Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart (22 page)

Sated and panting, face to face on
the bed, they came to an agreement.

"I really don’t like you,"
she began. "But for some reason, my body does. I’m sure it’s only a
passing thing."

"Definitely not permanent,"
he agreed. "But so long as we must share quarters—"

"We might as well give our
bodies what they want," she finished.

They sealed their deal with a kiss
and another frantic bout of copulation that left them sweaty and hungry. Of
course, their eventual shower and meal rejuvenated them enough that at her
frosty insistence he should clean the room and not her—because as she said with
her hands planted on her hips, "I am not your bloody maid"—meant they
got dirty, sweaty and hungry all over again.

And thus did their journey—and
erotic discovery of each other—last through several galactic units, Tren
neglecting to stop at the planets on their path that offered entity auctions.
His feeble excuse? He’d fetch a better price elsewhere. The truth? He couldn’t
get enough of the barbarian Earthling—and although he wouldn’t admit this aloud
or even contemplate it for long in his mind, he didn’t want to let her go.

Chapter
Seven

Megan lost count of the times she
fucked her purple pirate, she refused to label what they did as lovemaking even
if they cuddled afterward most times. She still lied to herself that she hated
him, but her body knew the truth even if she still remained unprepared to admit
it to herself. And especially never to him.

They tried to avoid each other, him
leaving to go off and do whatever he did to run the ship while she watched
strange alien videos that taught her nothing other than the fact she knew absolutely
nothing at all. But like yin and yang, Ben and Jerry, and every other pair who
couldn’t stay apart, they kept finding excuses to see each other.

Their few conversations, more like
sparring matches, always ended one way—naked and panting. Actually, she did it on
purpose to goad him into fucking her, but in her defense, he appeared to be
doing the same thing.

For some reason, they just couldn’t
keep their hands off each other even if they maintained their charade of
dislike. Nor could they simply just have sex, they needed to go through a
complicated dance involving shouting and manhandling—the physical wresting the
part which titillated her most.

At least this time, I don’t have
to go through the whole betrayal thing,
she mused.
He made no bones about the fact he was going to sell her as soon as he hit the
right market. And yet, the funny thing was every time she threw his plan to
auction her as a sex slave in his face, he got quiet and angry. Then he always
screwed her until she screamed like a banshee. Needless to say, she threw that
in his face every chance she got.

They’d exchanged, in between sexual
bouts and verbal battles, some bits of personal info. She’d regaled him over
another glass of that deadly wine all her previous failed relationships. He’d
boasted of his numerous conquests. That particular conversation ended up with
her throwing his sex figurines at him and calling him names followed by
raking-nails-down-his-back sex. She didn’t know which of them was the more
pathetic—her for continually trying and failing at love, or him for avoiding it
like the plague.

He still didn’t trust her with his
ship—wise pirate—so she found herself confined to whatever room he wanted her
in. Most often the bedroom, but he did also bring her up to his bridge on occasion
to give his chair a frenzied and sweaty workout.

They fell into a comfortable
pattern, one which she hated to admit she enjoyed. It took her lamenting the
fact she didn’t have any oils to massage his delectable body with that made her
realize this was a problem. She needed distraction from the fact she was
growing feelings for her captor. Some form of the Stockholm syndrome that
wouldn’t end well, for her at least. Thus when the computer announced they
approached a docking station for repairs, she jumped all over it.

"I want to come with you,"
she declared as he clothed his magnificent body.

He didn’t even bother to look at
her as he replied, a shame because she’d displayed her bosom—a weak spot of
his—as a distraction. "No. It’s too dangerous."

"Aw, are you trying to tell me
you care?" Intentionally, she baited him and when he shot her a glare, she
batted her eyelashes at him.

He growled. "You’re vexing me
again. You know what happens when you do that."

Megan rolled her eyes. "Well,
duh. The same thing that happened, like, five minutes ago in the shower when I
told you to shave because your face was roughing my girly parts up. And, like,
a few hours ago in your command center chair when I declared mutiny. Now, just
imagine how much I could irritate you if I came along."

His eyes flared with a look she’d
come to recognize—lust. "Very well. You can come with me. But I warn you
right now, if you start any trouble, I will leave you there to your fate."

A grin spread across her face as he
caved in to her request. "Fine. Whatever. However, do you think while
you’re acting all hotshot with the locals, you could find me some clothes that
fit?" While his clothes were comfortable and soft, she’d prefer garments
of her own. The red dress had unfortunately not survived one of their more
vigorous encounters.

"Any more demands? This isn’t
some frukxian cruise you know," he snarled as he tugged on his boots. She
ignored his attitude as she’d come to realize a few days ago it was his way of
pretending he didn’t like her. She knew this because she did the same thing.

"Hey, you’re the one who
abducted me. Now you get to deal with the consequences." She smirked at
him, and then chuckled at his dark glower.

She stopped laughing, though, when
he strapped holsters around his waist, thighs and arms. He proceeded to fill
them with knives and pistols that he pulled out of yet another opening in the
wall.

"Um, is that all really
necessary?" She eyed his growing arsenal with fascination and a touch of
trepidation.

He didn’t bother to answer as he
slid a pair of daggers into each of his boots. Armed with enough weapons for
half a dozen men, he straightened and grinned, a predatory smile that displayed
his pointed teeth. A sane person would have screamed, fainted or shuddered in fear.
Megan shivered alright, but with lust because, by all that was holy, he looked
damned good—and dangerous.

So
good in fact, she delayed their departure to show him how much she liked his
mercenary look.

* * *

Tren wanted to bang his head off
a wall, maybe punch a few things, and he definitely wanted to kill something. A
smart male would have annihilated the female strutting along beside him, but
dammit, he admired her spirit, worshiped her body, and grudgingly liked her.
Even stranger, he got a feeling she liked him back. Sure, she didn’t know
everything about him, such as his reputation as the universe’s most renown
mercenary. However, he got the feeling it wouldn’t matter one whit to her. She
acted like a queen—demanding and imperious. Strangely, he enjoyed it. Enjoyed
her, both in and out of bed. Not that he’d admit it out loud.
She’d use that
information against me for sure
, he thought with a grin.

He still hadn’t changed his mind
about selling her; however, he’d decided to keep her for a longer portion of
his voyage, his twisted logic dictating he’d get a better price for her nearer
his home world. He also selfishly intended to enjoy as much of her naked body
as he could until that time. It surprised him that he hadn’t tired of her yet;
actually, he still fought the urge to mark her each time she exposed her neck.
Obviously, he’d caught some kind of space illness because he even looked
forward to her harangues and attempts to hurt him, her feisty nature calling to
something in him. Not that he let her get away with her bouts of violence and
vocal displeasure. Of course his method of punishment—extreme screaming
pleasure—might have had a lot to do with the fact she didn’t let up in her
attempts to drive him insane.

Crazy human. My human.
The possessive thought almost stopped his heart, and he must have
uttered something because she peered back at him to ask, "You alright?"

Grunting in reply, he blamed his
strange thought on the fact he was taking his merchandise for a walk and would
probably need to protect it.
I should add liar to my list of skills.

Tren kept one hand on his holster
as they exited the docking tunnel into the main part of the way station; a
jumbled mess of buildings meshed together and covered by a dome on an asteroid
circling a weak star. It was the only space station in this section of the
galaxy, and one he tended to avoid because of its surcharges and ratty
denizens. Given they’d sustained some minor damage during their hyperspeed
flight and he still had a rear thruster in need of repair, it made sense to
take advantage of the services offered here, even if the prices ranged into the
obscene.

Although, not as obscene as the
leer thrown Megan’s way by the one eyed Kharnqiop who added to his disrespect
by drooling. Tren didn’t like it one bit. Stepping behind Megan, Tren bared his
pointed teeth in a snarl that promised violence and extreme pain. The creature
clamped its mouth shut, dropped its dozen eyes and shuffled off, probably to
spread the word he’d arrived.

 Good. Teaching lessons to the hot
heads who’d come crawling from the corners of this cesspit would keep him
entertained while he waited for the repairs.  Yet another reason he’d retired.
Covert operations were harder to manage when everyone knew your face and, in an
attempt to gain recognition, kept attacking—and dying. At least their feeble
attempts to take him out since retirement kept him in practice. Having Megan
along to protect would add an interesting element, though.
I’ll kill anyone
who touches her.
For business, of course. Damaged goods wouldn’t fetch a
nice price. He wondered how she’d feel about up close and personal violence.

Probably cheer if she thought it
would benefit her.

The thought made him smirk.

He let her lead the way, which
amused him since she had no idea where to go, but she faked it well with her
head held high, stalking like she owned the place. Spilling out into the main
thoroughfare, crowded with beings from a multitude of races, she finally
halted. He moved to stand beside her, his presence claiming her without words
as his property.

He let her look around with wide
eyes before he nudged her in the direction they needed to go. "Stop
gawking. You look like fresh meat."

"Well, excuse me for suffering
some culture shock. It’s one thing to meet you, you kind of look human. But
this," she inclined her head. "That’s freaking wild."

Tren tried to view it for a moment
from her perspective, the scene before them one he’d seen a hundred times
before. Beings of all shapes, sizes, colors and in possession of appendages in
the single to double digits roamed the marketplace. Normal stuff. He shrugged. "You’ll
get used to it. Now come on. We need to get the work order in before the first
ones arrive."

"First what?"

Tren didn’t bother answering, he
just took off at a brisk walk, and after a moment’s hesitation she followed.
But, of course, she didn’t walk behind him in a position of subservience. She
placed herself on his left and with her lips tight, pretended an aloofness he
could tell by her tight body she didn’t feel. Frukx, but he admired her spirit.

Locating the grungy office of the
service station, he sauntered in and slammed his fist down on the counter. A
familiar face came scurrying in from the back. Tren sneered as the creature
blanched. He relayed his instructions on repair to the three armed mechanic who
bobbed his head in deference. Tren made sure to keep one eye on Megan who
prowled around with way too much curiosity in her eyes. She also looked much
too enticing in his oversized shirt, the sway of her breasts entirely too
visible.

Tren growled and the mechanic
stepped back, swallowing hard with all five of his mouths.  He fixed his gaze
on the creature. "I expect it done within one astral unit."

"But the other clients—"

Tren leaned forward and grabbed the
mechanic by the neck. "Do you need to lose another arm?" Annoyed at
the exorbitant rates they’d charged him last time, and the scratch they’d put
on his hull, Tren had displayed his displeasure in a way that left a permanent
impression.

Frantic head bobbing answered him
and Tren released the alien, a sudden prickling on the back of his nape making
him whirl. Megan no longer lurked the shop, having stepped out into the
thoroughfare.

And of course, she’d found trouble.

Chapter
Eight

"Unhand me right now,"
Megan demanded, hiding her fear behind false bravado. Not an easy task
considering the slimy grasp of the blue octopus holding her wrist.

A gurgle she suspected passed as a
chuckle made her grimace. "That was totally gross. And I said let me go."
When the alien creature ignored her and started tugging, her sandaled feet
sliding, she got mad.

"You must be a male under all
that disgusting goo." She pulled out a chopstick saved from one of their
dinners. After seeing Tren’s own preparations, she’d tucked it into her pants
in case of an emergency. This certainly counted. She jabbed the oversized
needle into the tentacle holding her. The icky alien squealed as it released
her. Megan took a step back and bared her teeth in a grimace as she waved her
makeshift rapier at it.

Its eyes, all half dozen of them,
fixated on something behind her. It shrieked again, even louder, as a big,
familiar body rushed past her. Tren picked up the extraterrestrial as if it
weighed no more than a feather and threw it against a corrugated wall. It
hadn’t even begun sliding down, leaving a slimy trail, when Tren pulled out a
pistol and fired.

A great big hole appeared in the
middle of the creature while Megan watched with her jaw dropped low enough to
hit her toes. Given she could have stuck her hand through the octopus thingy
without touching its insides, she presumed it was dead.

Tren holstered his gun and turned
to face her. The dangerous glitter in his eyes and the tenseness of his face
sent a jolt of pure desire through her.
Oh my god, I think that was the
single most, hottest thing any man has ever done for me.
She ignored the
fact she’d just about saved herself before he’d arrived. She admired the way he
took charge and protected her.

"You are uninjured?" he
asked, his clear blue eyes checking her up and down.

"Slimed, but fine. You know,
I’d just about taken care of him," she announced as she held up her
chopstick.

A smile tugged his lips. "Yes,
you did. I just made an example of him to warn others away. You are not upset I
killed it?"

She shrugged. "I might have
felt different if it were a human you just shot a cannon through, but I never
did care for seafood."

He snorted, tried to stop it, but
couldn’t. He laughed aloud, a mirthful sound that proved contagious and she
joined him. She vaguely noticed that some of the alien folks walking by stopped
to gape at them, but she paid them no mind. Tren owned the most awesome laugh
and she got the impression he didn’t use it often. It pleased her to know she’d
caused it even if unintentionally.

"Stow your vicious weapon, my
feisty barbarian. We wouldn’t want to frighten the shop owners into closing
before we can purchase some items."

Megan tucked the chopstick into her
waistband before sauntering off. "Shopping. Cool. Think we can find some more
shoes? I’d love to find some steel-toed combat boots in my size. These sandals
suck for kicking balls with."

Tren snorted and Megan grinned as
she perused the storefronts that made her think of home. Well, if you
discounted the fact the garments on display owned several sleeves and the
shopkeepers all resembled mad science experiments.

Adrenaline from the fight wore off
and she hid an internal quiver as she pretended interest in the wares offered
by creatures straight out of
Men in Black
. Her mind whirled as it
finally hit her. She’d not only stabbed something living, she’d watched it get
killed for just touching her. While she didn’t regret her actions—and still
found his hot—it made her wonder exactly how violent she could expect her new
life to end up. Judging by the occasional grunts and thumps that she heard from
behind her where Tren followed, probably often.

A savage part of her approached the
concept with glee. No more false politeness or putting up with bullshit. But
then again, as with all things, only the strongest would prevail. Currently,
Tren protected her, but what about when he relinquished ownership of her—not
something she wanted to truly think of, but she’d always been a realist. What
skills did she have to survive other than an acerbic tongue? In a battle of
fists or weapons, speech wouldn’t gain her a thing.

In sudden inspiration, she whirled
to speak to Tren and almost bit her tongue, trying to hold in laughter. She
found him with one fist cocked while his other hand held up a goblin-like
creature by the neck. He appeared sheepish at having gotten caught.

"Don’t mind me. Finish what
you were doing." She waved magnanimously.

Flashing a savage grin, Tren turned
back to his blanching victim. A few smacks and a toss later, he swiveled back to
face her. Megan shook her head at him as she took in the devastation that
seemed to follow in their wake. "Does this happen to you often?"

He shrugged. "More or less. I
told you to stay on the ship."

"I didn’t say I minded. It
does, however, explain your arsenal, and it is part of what I wanted to talk to
you about. I wanted to know if you’d teach me how to protect myself. I’m
starting to realize I can’t count on cops and laws to really protect me out
here."

"I will protect you," he
growled, his gaze narrowing in displeasure.

"For now. But what about once
you sell me? You won’t be around. " His face darkened, but she forged on. "So,
please, would you teach me something so I’m not so helpless?"

"You are far from helpless,"
he barked as he strode away.

She hurried to catch him. "Oh,
come on. You and I both know I wouldn’t stand a chance against a real bad ass."

He stopped suddenly and whirled. "A
real what?"

"You know a thug. Bad guy.
Vicious killer. I’d be toast in a second." She drew a finger across her throat
and made a choking sound.

He snorted. "I don’t think you
have much to fear. You’ve stood your ground fairly well against me."

Megan rolled her eyes. "Now I
know you’re placating me. You don’t count. I mean, you might be a pirate and
all, but that doesn’t make you a bad guy. I’m talking about super mean, cold
hearted dicks. The kind who would hurt me in a heartbeat."

Tren choked. "You don’t
consider me a danger?"

"Well, duh. You’re a nice guy
for a buccaneer. I mean, sure, you’re big and annoying, but you’ve never
actually done anything to hurt me."

"And what about this?" he
asked splaying his arm to showcase the limping forms, and in some cases,
corpses, that littered their path.

She snorted. "We’re in a den
of iniquity. Attacks are to be expected. Self-defense is not a crime, so don’t
feel bad."

Her words made his face twist from
disbelief, to humor, to smoking intensity. A hand shot out and he grabbed a
hold of her, yanking her toward him until she reeled against his chest. "Silly
female. Don’t you realize I am the most dangerous thing you will encounter?"
he whispered before hoisting her up for a kiss that stole her breath.

Megan forgot they stood in the
middle of an alien marketplace. Forgot the violence trailing them. Forgot even
her own name as his lips slanted over hers in a possessive embrace that turned
her knees to jelly and sent moist heat to pool in her cleft. She curled her
arms around his neck and tugged him closer. Sliding her tongue between his
lips, she shuddered as he sucked it and then grazed it with his teeth.

Kissing him just never grew old. No
matter how many times they touched, she could never get enough. Arousal flushed
her body and made her wish for a more intimate setting, especially when a
sarcastic voice intruded.

"Well,
well. Isn’t this cozy?"

* * *

Tren kept one arm wrapped around
Megan as he pulled and aimed a pistol at the only other male in the universe
who could hope to sneak up on him. His damned brother who also doubled as his
worst enemy.

The cold gaze of his only sibling
didn’t flinch even though Tren kept his gun level with his smirk.

"What do you want, Jaro?"
Tren’s voice came out low and tight. Megan, for once, said nothing, but she did
turn in his grasp, her back plastered to his front. He bit back a grin as he
felt her hand move to grip the end of the eating prong. She certainly didn’t
lack courage.

"Want? Does a brother need a
reason to exchange pleasantries? It’s been a long time, Tren. Forgive me if I
find myself curious as to how you’ve been."

"I am fine. Now leave and get
on with your business." Tren muttered the words through gritted teeth.
Jaro just smiled at him coolly.

"Do you always hold family
members hostage?" Megan’s voice pierced their impasse and he held back a
groan as she drew Jaro’s attention.

"And who might you be?"
Jaro asked with a sneer.

"On Earth, I’m called Megan,
but according to Tren, I’m probably known as a new pair of shoes. Or maybe a
shirt depending on the price he can get for me when he sells me. Apparently,
I’m annoying, so I might not fetch a good price."

Her outspoken declaration, which
Jaro unfortunately understood given he also wore a translator, was almost worth
the dropped jaw and wide eyes on his brother. But it didn’t last and Jaro’s
gaze quickly narrowed. "I didn’t know you’d taken to slave trading,
brother."

Tren would have answered with a
scathing remark, but Megan was on a roll.

"Oh, he didn’t intend to. He
accidentally abducted me when he was fishing on my planet. See, my boyfriend
decided to kill me and tossed me into the ocean. Lucky me, I got kidnapped by a
pirate and now I get to look forward to being auctioned off as a sex slave, or
an appetizer depending, I guess, on the buyer’s taste."

"Megan!" Tren growled her
name and she turned in his arms to smile up at him with false innocence.

"What? Did I say something
wrong?" With a smirk, she turned back to face his nemesis.

"Nothing wrong at all, dear
Megan," Jaro interjected smoothly, drawing her attention. "I
apologize for my brother. Personally, had I discovered a gem like yourself in
my hold, I would have dressed you in fine fabrics and wooed you as obviously
befits someone of your beauty."

Tren growled. He couldn’t help
himself as his brother flirted with Megan, and she seemed to soak it up even
though the touch of his kiss surely still lingered on her lips. It angered him,
rousing a possessive jealousy he’d never known before.

Megan tittered and Tren gritted his
teeth.
Surely, she doesn’t fall for his flowery lies?

"What a load of crap,"
Megan crowed. Her laughter turned derisive and Tren watched in satisfaction as
Jaro’s face tightened in anger. "You didn’t seriously think I’d believe
that load of drivel, did you?" She snorted. "I might be considered a
barbarian, but even I’m not that gullible."

"You should watch your tongue,
else you might find yourself without it," Jaro growled.

Tren didn’t like his menacing tone,
but apparently Megan liked it even less. In what he was coming to realize was
her signature move, she kneed his brother between the legs. As Jaro gasped, she
smiled at him sweetly. "That’s for being a dick to your brother. And this-"
She kneed Jaro again in the stomach. "Is for being an asshole in general."
Megan turned to face Tren and stood on tiptoe to brush her lips over his. "I’ll
see you back on the ship for my
punishment
," she announced with a
wink. She pulled away from him and made her way back to their vessel, her
buttocks wiggling enticingly. Tren tracked her passage while his brother
straightened with a wheeze.

"I will kill—"

Jaro never finished his sentence
because Tren grabbed him around the throat and slammed him up against a wall. "I
wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you, else I might just forget the
promise made to our mother and end you right now."

Jaro’s eyes widened, incredulity
blatant in his expression. "Don’t tell me you care for that crass,
barbaric female?"

"Of course not," Tren
scoffed. "She is a female, and one slated for sale once I find the right
market for her."

"I look forward to bidding on
her then. I think she’d look splendid spread eagle on my bed—naked. She won’t
be able to say much with my cock stuffed down her throat."

"Oh no, you won’t." A
jealous rage gripped him. Tren knew it was foolish even as he drew his fist
back and knocked his brother out. In that one act, he’d let his sibling know
Megan meant more to him than he let on. More than he even wanted to admit to
himself.

Looking at his brother’s slumped
form, a part of him regretted the past that had brought them both to this
point. But, a man could only apologize so many times. It was time Jaro got over
it.

Tren banged on the counter of the
hiding shopkeeper who peered at him with frightened eyes. "You recognize
me I assume?" The peeking head nodded. "Good. I expect you to ensure
he comes to no harm, or I’ll come back and show you in violent detail why you
don’t piss me off." Tren turned to walk away, but stopped and pivoted
back. "Oh, but feel free to compensate yourself for the trouble by taking
anything he has on him."