Eve Langlais - Accidental Abduction

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.