C2 2

Harper

His touch was like a drug, the tingle running through my body all too familiar. Adrenaline junkie? I never denied it. But my fix the past two years usually came from going out on rescue-and-recovery missions for the Interstellar Coalition. More than two hundred and fifty worlds, all with civilizations. Oceans. Storms. Accidents. On Earth, I’d worked as an ER nurse. I’d seen everything from gunshot wounds to decapitations. When the aliens showed up demanding fighters and brides for the Coalition that Earth was now a part of, I was compelled to volunteer. But not as a bride. Forget that. I was no alien brood mare. And I wasn’t going to be shooting any kind of gun. I wasn’t a fighter; I was a healer. I wanted to have an adventure without domineering mates or fierce battles. To finally see what was out there, in space, on other worlds. Beam me up, Scotty.

So I volunteered, told them what I wanted and ended up assigned to this bizarre, alien version of a first responder, paramedic team. The war with the Hive was never ending. Literally. These alien races had been at war with the Hive for centuries. But that didn’t mean they never had emergencies. Natural disasters. Surprise attacks. We went in after every battle in this sector of the galaxy and triaged the wounded, helped them survive the aftermath.

Ran from the Hive.

Whatever. It was dangerous, but it made me feel like I was doing something important. Something that mattered and I didn’t need to shoot anyone. My team was human, and we followed the human combat units around the Coalition like cheerleaders assigned to a football team. They fought and we went in after. We hung on to the back end of the Battlegroup Karter like leeches. When the commanders moved on, we stayed long enough to clean up the mess. Assuming the Coalition won. If they lost, there was nothing left to save.

The Hive didn’t leave raw material behind, and to them, my human brothers and sisters, hell, every single Coalition warrior out there fighting, was meat to be processed.

Most of my MedRec team—Medical Recovery Team—took care of our own the best we could. Sure, a Prillon doctor or Atlan nurse would rush to help a fallen Earth fighter, but something about seeing a human face out here in deep space mattered to the warriors who were lying there bleeding. Dying. Missing home with every breath in their body, afraid they were going to die on the other side of the galaxy.

I lived here now, MedRec Zenith with the rest of my team. I’d been to more planets and seen more alien races than most in this bar. Yet, I’d never seen anything like him.

My mouth watered, and I itched to touch the stubble on his square jaw as he squeezed my hand. I had no idea how long I’d been standing, thinking, staring at him like a mute, but his eyes never left my face. Rovo was completely forgotten. The alien hottie was utterly and completely focused. On me. On the small scratch in the middle of my palm.

“You should have had this healed with a ReGen wand.” He didn’t wait for me to argue, only pulled one from somewhere on his pants, turned the blue light on and waved it over my palm.

I’d been in space for almost two years, even used the healing wand on the wounded, and I still wasn’t used to the healing device. It—along with the more complicated ReGeneration Pod—was miraculous. Within seconds, the wound on my palm knitted closed, turned pink and then disappeared entirely. It had stung before, but I felt nothing now. Numb.

“Thank you,” I said once he turned off the wand. While it was polite, it felt wrong somehow. Wrong to walk away without a mark or a scar when the sight of Henry in that transport coffin heading back to Earth still burned the back of my eyelids.

“Why didn’t you take care of yourself?” he asked. I noticed a sharper bite to his voice, and I glanced up from our joined hands.

“It was a scratch.” I offered him a small shrug and looked up into his eyes. Couldn’t look away. I couldn’t lie. Didn’t want to, so I swallowed and shared my feelings. Yes, feelings. The things I hid so damn well. “And I needed the whiskey more than I needed a healer.”

He slowly shook his head as his thumb slid back and forth over the newly healed flesh. “I am glad I was here then, to tend to you.”

So serious. His attention was addictive, the caress making me shiver with delight. I didn’t want to pull my hand from his.

Deep shit. That’s what this was. Trouble. And I wanted it. I wanted him.

It was time to lighten things back up, to enjoy my break between missions. There wasn’t much time for a fling with a mysterious alien man I’d never seen before, and one who’d be gone in a matter of hours, most likely never to be seen again. A fling? No. A quick fuck? Maybe that could work. But I sure as heck didn’t want to be in the middle of hot sex with a stranger and have the mission alarms trigger.

Hold that orgasm, dear. I have to go…

There would be no leaving in the middle. Not with this guy. But I really wanted the orgasm—or two—that I knew he’d give me.

He wasn’t wearing the uniform of any Coalition branch I recognized. He wore unrelenting black from head to toe—even his hair was as dark as pitch. He had a thick silver stripe around one bicep, but no other variation. Only his eyes held color. Green. He was pale, perhaps even paler than me, which was surprising since I was full-on Nordic blonde, with an Irish dad and mom’s family history traced back to Norway. I burned just talking about the sun.

“Lucky me.” I gave my coyest smile. I was no expert at flirting, but I wasn’t a shy virgin either. This would go nowhere past a quickie. I’d never see him again once the next call came down. So why the hell not? For now, I’d have fun, remember that I was a woman—even in the unisex, bland uniform—and that he was very much a male.

He turned his hand, interlocking our fingers. “Do you have wounds anywhere else?”

“No.” Sex-on-a-stick didn’t let go of my hand. He was the most amazing specimen of a male I’d ever seen. And I’d been around. Los Angeles was full of man candy, actors and models, surfers and musicians. I came from the land of silicone breasts, Botox and gluteal implants where nothing was real and everyone was gorgeous.

And none of them held a candle to him.

The last two years had been rewarding, and grueling. Most people burned out by the end of their service. I wasn’t there yet, but I was doing some serious flirting with an alien stranger, so perhaps I was showing signs of stress in a completely different way.

Sex could be a good stress reliever. Especially with Joe Manganiello’s alien doppelganger. He’d give me orgasms. Lots of them. Then I could go on my next mission as relaxed and pliable as saltwater taffy.

His gaze dropped and raked over my body, making my nipples harden beneath my bright green uniform. Green meant medical in the Coalition. The docs wore dark, forest green, while we got this lighter version, like emeralds. The color brought out my eyes, I’d been told. There was a thick band of black that hugged the torso. Of course, on the women like me, it only served to highlight the curve of our breasts. I was sure if he wore it instead of his unrelenting black, it would make his chest seem broader. Like that was even possible. He was built like a tank.

He cocked his head to the side and leaned in closer, inhaling deeply. “I still smell blood, female. I am not sure if I believe you. If you were mine, I would strip you bare and assess every inch of your perfect body to ensure you are completely well.”

That made me grin. “You don’t believe me?”

“If you were lying, keeping something as important as your health and safety from me, you would not like the consequences.”

“Consequences?” My heart leapt at the word. I widened my eyes and waited for him to elaborate. My tongue flicked out to lick my suddenly dry lips.

“Punishment,” he said as his eyes followed the motion.

My mouth fell open. I should have been scared. A stranger. An alien stranger, wearing a uniform from an unknown planet, was talking about potentially hurting me. Perhaps he was a mind reader because he said, “I do not hurt females. I protect them, even, it seems, from themselves. A spanking would certainly remind you that there would be no secrets, that your body was mine to care for, to worship.”

Had he just said spanking ? As in his big, hot hand on my naked backside? Why was that idea so damn hot? I licked my lips again. “You want to worship me?”

His eyes turned darker. While he kept our fingers intertwined, he hooked his other hand about my waist and tugged me closer. “What I will do to you…” He shuddered and leaned in, his breath fanning my neck as his nose brushed over the curve of my ear. We weren’t alone; the canteen was at least half full, yet it seemed as if we were in our own little bubble. A bubble where all I could see was him. All I could hear was his deep voice. “Learn every soft curve. I’ll find the places that make you catch your breath, that make you shiver with desire. I’ll taste your skin. Your pussy. And that’s all just the beginning. I will worship you with my mouth.”

To say the temperature of the room went way up was an understatement. My uniform was all at once uncomfortable and had too much fabric. I wanted his palm to be touching the bare skin on my back, and preferably moving a few inches lower so he could grab my—

“Do you want to know what I’d do with my fingers?” He pulled back and dipped his chin so our eyes met. Locked. “Or my cock?”

I swallowed. Hard. My mouth watered at the mention of his cock. “Wow, you’re really good at this.” My voice had a breathy quality I didn’t recognize. “My apologies for thinking you had no game.”

“What game do you speak of?” he asked, stepping back and tugging me away from the bar. My hand still in his, he pulled me around into a hallway. I let him, abandoning my beer. The hallway was short, with one door at the end lit with a white outline to indicate an emergency exit.

“Picking up women.”

With a quick flick of his wrist, my back was against the wall, and he was pressed against me. I felt every hard inch of him and suppressed a moan. My hands were above my head, held in place by his firm but gentle grip. He leaned over me until I was completely immersed in his heat. His free hand came to rest on the curve of my hip, the touch like lightning to my system. I didn’t try to get away. I didn’t want to. He felt good. Too good.

“I assume that phrase is used on Earth. If I were to pick you up, you would be over my shoulder.”

“It means you got me here, alone with you, and I don’t even know your name.” Did I just look at his lips? Yes. Yes, I did. And I wanted to know what they felt like against mine, what he tasted like. I looked up to find him watching me intently.

His eyes did that roving thing again, took in my mouth, my neck, my breasts. “You wish to know my name before I kiss you?”

My panties were now ruined. So was my self-control. “Name would be good. Maybe tell me where you’re from.”

He did the hair tucking thing again and my legs turned to jelly. “My name is Styx. I am part of the Styx legion on Rogue 5.”

I frowned. Weird names. “You have a part of a planet named after you?” His finger slid down the side of my neck to rub back and forth across the line of my shoulder. His eyes followed the action.

“Rogue 5 is a moon base. I am the leader of the Styx legion, therefore, the name is mine.”

“I’ve never heard of Rogue 5,” I admitted, tilting my head to the side to give him better access.

“It is not part of the Coalition.”

That I knew. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I am here meeting a business associate.” The way he said the words business associate reminded me of a Sopranos episode. All that, Hey, I got a guy…

“Is everyone from your world as wild as you are?”

He grinned then, his teeth straight and white. “You think me wild?” He shifted his leg so his knee rested between mine, and I was practically riding his thigh.

My mouth fell open, and he took the opportunity to put the tip of his finger on my lower lip. The touch was calloused even as he applied the softest pressure, rubbing back and forth in a delicious tease.

“Tell me your name.” Not a request, a demand from an alpha male.

Never one to give in so easily, I leaned forward and took the tip of his finger into my mouth, sucked on it. Once, twice, grazed his skin with my teeth before I released him. Just a little nip, so he’d know I wasn’t tamed. “Harper. Harper Barrett from California. I mean Earth.”

Great, I sounded like an idiot. But he didn’t seem to mind. His pupils were so wide his eyes went almost black, and a vein pulsed in his neck. “I will taste you now, Harper.”

Oh. Okay.

I expected slow, but he claimed my mouth with a hunger that made me weak. I couldn’t say more, not that I wanted to. I’d flirted, tempted and even taunted a wild, rogue male. He wasn’t bound by Coalition rules or consequences. And the way he kissed, with unbridled need and exquisite attention, I knew he did things his own way.

A way I liked very, very much. So did my nipples and my clit and my aching pussy. Yes. I imagined him stripping me right here, filling me with his cock, thrusting into me so hard my back bruised against the hard wall. Yet he was gentlemanly enough to tell me his intentions so I could say no, if I desired. Which I didn’t. No, I desired he continue and never stop.

“Something is missing here.”

The voice came from my left, and I stiffened because we weren’t alone. Styx didn’t react. He continued to explore my mouth with a fervor I’d never known before. But it was like I’d been doused in the proverbial bucket of ice water.

I pulled back slightly. “Styx,” I murmured, breathing hard.

“Hmm?” he asked, nipping along my jaw.

I turned my head so I could look to the side and Styx took advantage, lowering his mouth to my neck so I couldn’t turn away from our visitor. Yes, we were being watched. By a very big, very gorgeous male. He was huge, like Styx, wearing the same uniform. Same silver arm band. But where Styx’s hair was shorter and a deep, dark black, this man’s hair was actually silver, long and straight and shining. Not gray or blond or any color I’d ever seen before. And his face was chiseled perfection, his eyes a pale gray. He looked like a warrior god from a Dungeons and Dragons fantasy. Not real.

His grin, as his gaze drifted over my body, over Styx’s hand locking my wrists above my head, was wicked. And wide.

I twisted my wrists in protest and held myself perfectly still in Styx’s arms. Playtime was over. “Styx,” I repeated.

He didn’t lift his head, just continued to kiss and lick, and even nip along my jaw to my ear, then down my neck. “This is Blade.”

Odd introduction, but they obviously knew each other, felt comfortable enough to have a female between them.

“It’s…um, nice to meet you,” I said, although I wasn’t really sure if that was the truth. I twisted harder, and only then did Styx lift his head with a sigh.

“Don’t stop for me,” Blade said, taking a step closer. “I’ll join you.” He placed a hand on my cheek, his caress every bit as soul-melting as Styx’s had been. Gentle. Awed. And suddenly I felt very…between them.

“Um—”

“Did I mention that Blade and I enjoy sharing a woman between us?” Styx asked.

“Sharing?” I squeaked, my heart pounding so hard I was afraid it would explode. I glanced between the two, their differences like night and day. Salt and pepper. Hot and…hot. Oh. My. God.

“Twice the pleasure for you.” Blade’s quiet promise sliced through the air with the sharpness of his name. “We will claim a mate together.” He leaned down, ran his nose along the side of my cheek and sniffed, just as Styx had done. “Our bite will make you so sensitive, so wild, that the slightest touch will have you coming. Over. And over.”

His heated words made me shiver, the hot whisper sliding into my mind like a drug. I was drunk on their attention, my body determined to enjoy the ride even as my mind was arguing. Processing.

Two of them. At the same time. The idea didn’t scare me as much as it probably should have. But claim a mate together. Mate? As in forever? I knew enough about the other alien warriors, the Prillons and Atlans and the rest of these super-possessive, alpha males to know what that word meant.

“Mate?” I asked. “No. I’m not a mate. I’m no one’s mate.” Were they crazy? I just wanted a quickie. A good time. A little fun before I had to dive back into the guts and gore and killing fields. Mate had barely registered when the second part of what he’d said finally worked its way through my sex-fogged brain. “Wait. Bite? Did you say bite ?”

Blinking in confusion, I looked back at Blade, who grinned. I thought I’d seen everything during my time in space. This? I never imagined fangs.

Yes. Fangs.