"There will be no selling of me and my services," she screeched from behind him.
Tren ignored her and kept walking. What she wanted didn’t even factor into his decisions.
"Ooh." Exasperation colored her exclamation, and a moment later, she attacked him, pummeling his back in a fury with her fists.
Seriously? He turned and her blows rained on his rock hard abdomen. He stared down at her while she vented her wrath and only when she slowed did he drawl. "Done yet?"
She raised sparking brown eyes to his, and he couldn’t help notice the pink flush on her cheeks. He found himself captivated by the redness of her lips, their natural color, he assumed, now that she’d warmed up. He missed seeing her knee, though, which connected with his cock with unerring accuracy.
"Now I am," she sassed, sounding all too pleased with herself.
Tren gritted his teeth through the burning pain, and before she could inflict more damage, he grabbed her and upended her over his shoulder.
"Put me down," she yelled, pounding his back with her fists.
"No."
"I will not let you rape me you—you purple pirate!" she exclaimed.
"Like I said, I have no interest in your body. Not enough breasts for my liking. But lack of body parts or not, I’m going to sell you to the highest bidder." His words, delivered in a menacing tone, did nothing to halt her mouth.
"You can’t do this to me. I demand you bring me back to my planet. I will not be sold like-like an object."
"Silence," he roared, smacking her bottom with the flat of his hand to grab her attention. When she screeched in rage, he smacked her again and again until she quieted. A shame because he would have enjoyed slapping it some more, perhaps naked. She did have the most delectable bottom. "Finally, some quiet. Now listen up, Earthling. Firstly, we’re not even in your star system any longer, so returning you to your home world is not an option, which, believe me, I am already regretting. Secondly, I’m beginning to think unless I muzzle you or remove your tongue, I’ll never have any luck selling you. Men like their females docile and biddable. And quiet, very, very quiet. A lesson you might wish to learn. And three, my ship, my rules."
"Your rules suck."
Tren’s jaw dropped in surprise at her reply. Did this female not own common sense? Only idiots antagonized him—and never more than once. He made sure of that. "Anyone ever tell you that you don’t know when to shut up?"
"All the time, but let me ask you, how would you feel if your boyfriend tried to kill you and then you got kidnapped by an alien who wants to sell you? Would you just give up?"
Then, to his horror, she burst into tears.
"Oh, no. No tears. I won’t tolerate that. You stop crying this instant," he ordered.
She just sobbed louder.
At a loss, Tren, who’d reached the command center at last, dropped her into his chair and stood back to survey her. His captive smirked at him, not a trace of tears to be seen on her face. She’d faked it.
A grudging admiration at her spirit tugged him, but annoyance at her drama tempered it. "I see even Earthling females are prone to the same dramas as all females the universe over." Her reply to his disgruntled observation? She blew him a noisy kiss and flashed her index finger at him, which probably meant something back on her planet but just gave him an urge to bite her digit—then suck it.
Pushing aside thoughts of places he’d like to nibble on her frame, he discovered a curiosity about some of her earlier words. "Why did your male companion choose to kill you? Was it because you wouldn’t shut up?"
"No," she replied, her spine straightening as he intentionally goaded her. "He wanted my money. Stupid me, I didn’t know he was a con man until he decided he no longer needed me. He pushed me off a boat and left me to drown."
Strangely, the actions of her male partner angered him. Not that he let it show. "Lucky me, I now get his botched remains. I warn you right now, you’d better start behaving because if I decide to kill you, I will succeed." He gave her his most dangerous look and waited to see the fearful respect he’d grown accustomed to.
She stuck her tongue out at him, and Tren almost went crossed eyed at her temerity. "Go ahead," she taunted.
"Are you insane, female?" he roared. "I told you to behave or else."
"Why bother? You already said you intend to sell me," she accused. "That’s not very nice, you know."
Tren shrugged. "Niceness doesn’t enter into it at all. It’s just business. You were a part of my catch, and I can’t just release you; it wouldn’t make financial sense when I can fetch a small price for the trouble you’re going to incur."
"What trouble? Are the space police going to come after you for abducting me?" Her tone and eyes brightened at the prospect and Tren almost laughed.
He controlled himself, keeping a serious mien plastered to his visage. He did, however, snort before replying. "Policing is for those that are a part of the universal coalition. Your backward planet doesn’t count and everything on it, including its people, are fair game. Most slavers just can’t be bothered with your kind because of your mental instability."
"Our what?" she sputtered.
"Screaming hysterics and lack of basic understanding of how the universe works." He shrugged. "Actually, kind of like the behavior you’re currently exhibiting." He moved sideways and avoided the foot she swung his way.
"Well, at least we’re not rude, overbearing jerks," she retorted.
Tren growled at her and bared his teeth. To his annoyance, she didn’t even flinch. "Do you know how easily I could kill you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Save the big bad routine for someone more gullible. If you didn’t murder me after I kicked you in the balls, then you’re not going to for just talking."
A scowl crossed his face at her reasoning, and to his amazement she laughed, a rich throaty sound that made her lips curve enticingly and her eyes dance. It also made his cock swell with interest. He didn’t like it one bit. How am I supposed to make her respect me if she finds my threats amusing? He’d never run into that issue before. Most beings cowered, fainted or wet themselves when he turned his displeasure their way.
He needed some space from her and the contrary emotions she evoked. "I’ve got work to do. Don’t touch anything." He barked the command at her, but she just continued to grin in a way he found disturbing. To ensure she didn’t attempt to drive them into the nearest star, he tapped a panel on the wall by the elevator and locked the console to voice command only—his voice—then left. To his surprise—and odd disappointment—she didn’t say a thing to stop him.
Good. It’s about time she gave that tongue of hers a rest. Although, he could think of other ways she could exercise it. Ways that made his cock strain the crotch of his pants.
Chapter Four
Alone, Megan drummed her fingers on the armrest of the chair and looked around with interest. For some reason, she’d expected a bigger command center for the ship. However, the actual space rivaled that of her spare bedroom with less furniture. She knew the ship was immense from her glimpse of the cargo bay and how much floor they’d traversed when he’d carried her upside down—those long legs of his had an immense stride—the impression compounded as they got on an elevator to change floors for gods’ sake.
However, sizable as it all seemed, the one thing his ship seemed to lack was other people, beings, aliens, whatever she wanted to call them. Despite his purple color, she found herself hard pressed to think of him as an extraterrestrial. He oozed too much testosterone and chauvinism for that. Just like a man back home.
It occurred to her she should probably be more upset about her current situation—hysterical screaming and hyperventilating came to mind—but honestly, after the shock of her attempted murder, this space adventure she found herself on came as kind of a relief. And it wasn’t like anyone would miss her; she had no family left to care about her, part of the reason she was such an easy mark for preying men. She worked from home
as a web programmer and analyst, so no coworkers existed to wonder where she’d gotten to. As for friends, Cameron made sure to estrange her from them. Grooming me for my eventual midnight swim, the jerk.
What truly pissed her off wasn’t her currently odd situation, but the fact Cameron had probably made it back to dock by now and probably celebrated her demise at his hands. Spending my money, the asshole. She wanted to go back just so she could kill him herself.
While thoughts of revenge and annoyance at Cameron sustained her, the more immediate concern was her eventual fate. Despite her captor’s threats, she didn’t get the impression he’d actually abuse her, even if he kept threatening to kill or sell her. His smacks on her ass had stung, but given his size and evident strength, he’d obviously held back. Not like some of her previous boyfriends who’d turned violent for less provocation. I honestly don’t think the purple pirate will hurt me. A possibly dumb intuition based on nothing more than gut instinct, which in her case had shown itself as rather unreliable in the past.
I have such a great track record with men. If they’re not out to screw me, they’re fucking around on me, trying to beat me or, in my newest scenario, murdering me. She never put up with any of their shit, of course, but the pain of their betrayals still hurt. Is it so much to ask for a guy who’ll like me for who I am; outspoken, curvy and all?
Maybe she should consider allowing her captor to sell her as a sex slave, an object of value to someone, even if alien. Allow herself to become someone who gave and received sexual pleasure. I’m good at that. I could become a first class courtesan and have my owner shower me with presents, an interesting fantasy for someone else. However, knowing her penchant for giving orders, and stating her mind, it seemed an unlikely scenario in her case.
Alone and in need of something to occupy herself, she hopped up from the chair and prowled the control center, or so she assumed even given the sparse decor. Unlike the Star Trek films and shows she’d watched, there existed a definite lack of cool flashing lights, buttons and levers. Just a lot of blank wall space with faint scribbles, a chair and a big window like screen that showed nothing, not even her reflection.
Boring.
She leaned against the screen and tried to peer through it, wondering if perhaps it acted as a two way glass.
"Command console locked. Please speak to confirm identity."
Megan reeled back at the feminine voice that spoke from thin air. When nothing happened and no one appeared, she lightly touched the screen with a finger.
"Command console locked. Please speak to confirm identity."
This was more like it. A voice activated computer. Cool. "Um, hi, I’m Megan."
"Invalid voice entry."
"So whose voice will work?" Megan spoke aloud, but the computer didn’t reply. Her abductor probably had it keyed for only him.
Foiled in that area, she wandered around touching various panels where she found symbols, some of which caused the computer to relay the same command, some of which did nothing. She also tried to figure out how to open the door to the elevator thing, but ended up kicking the wall in aggravation and stubbing her toes.
Annoyed, she threw herself at the wall with a frustrated yell, pummeling it with her fists. When it suddenly slid open, she stumbled forward into a brick wall with steadying hands.
"Are you done abusing my vessel?" said her purple captor in his low sexy voice.
A shiver skated down her spine and it had nothing to do with fear. Her hands, sprawled across his chest, registered a steady thump, like a heartbeat; of course, it was on the wrong side of his torso and lower, but it still made him seem more human. Awareness of his body and an answering call in her lower tummy stunned her more, though. Attracted to a purple slave trader with pointed teeth? Am I completely insane?
Realizing he waited for her to speak, she sprang on the first thought that came to mind, other than asking him to remove his shirt so she could inspect him. "I’m bored and hungry," she complained, pushing back from him. She shot him a mutinous look as she crossed her arms over her chest, mostly to hide her erect nipples that seemed determined to catch his attention.
"I didn’t realize it was your people’s custom to throw a tantrum like a young’un."
Her chin tilted stubbornly at his rebuke. "Maybe if you hadn’t locked me up with nothing to do I wouldn’t have to resort to childish tactics to get some attention."
She could have sworn she saw a glint of humor momentarily light his eyes. "Oh, you have my attention. Don’t blame me, though, if you don’t like it." He bared his teeth at her and she rolled her eyes.
"Enough with the trying to intimidate me. I’m no use to you dead, so unless you’re planning on starving me as some sort of punishment, I need food."
"I have better ways of chastising you." His eyes roved her body sensually. Megan couldn’t help the bolt of heat that speared her cleft.
She pretended to not understand his sexual innuendo. "Could you beat me after you feed me?"
"Follow me and I shall provide sustenance. Perhaps it will improve your ill disposition." He smirked as he stepped back into the elevator, and as she entered the tight space facing him, she threw a dirty look at him for his remark. He leaned around her and she sucked in a breath, expecting retaliation, only to release it when she realized he simply wanted to push a button.
It occurred to her as the door slid shut behind her she didn’t know if her space pirate had a name. Somehow purple people eater didn’t seem apt. "My name is Megan, by the way, or do you not name the merchandise you’re going to sell?"
She could have sworn his lips twitched before his grim façade took over again. "I’m Tren, and I name all the things I sell. New hover car. Relaxing retreat. Night at the Red Vulva. You know, that type of thing."
It was her turn for her lips to quirk. "Touché. So, I have to ask, if my people are such barbarians, how is it you know our language?"
"I don’t, the translator does. It is standard protocol for the devices to be programmed with all known languages, defunct or not. Although, I believe the version for your planet might be somewhat out of date given some of your expressions aren’t translating."
Megan inclined her head in understanding. "Pop culture references I’ll bet."
"And this Han Solo I heard you mention before, he is a pop culture?" His clear blue eyes bored into hers as the elevator stopped, and she almost fidgeted at his intense look.
"He’s a movie character. From Star Wars." At his blank look, she laughed. "I don’t think I can explain this without you seeing the actual movie. But, basically, your whole bad ass buccaneer look was first done by Harrison Ford who played Han Solo in the Star Wars trilogy."
The brows of her captor drew together. "I am not an actor."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. I’m just saying, at first glimpse you reminded me of him in that role. But don’t worry, now that I’ve really gotten to look at you without the whole pain and exhaustion thing messing me up, I’ve changed that comparison to Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean. Except you have whiter teeth, pointier, too."
His lips tightened at her words. "Nothing you’ve just said makes much sense. I am myself, and while there are those who would try to copy me, I am unique." He stepped from the elevator into a long hall, his back stiff.
Megan laughed. It appeared as if Tren, her purple pirate, was offended. "I never said you weren’t unique." He swiveled to peer back at her and shot her a dark glare. She smirked, and with a shake of his head, he turned back again. "Just forget it. So where are we going?"
"My quarters."
Megan stopped walking. "Excuse me. When I said I was hungry, I meant for food, not sex."
He craned to look at her over his shoulder and she definitely couldn’t mistake his slow grin this time. It transformed his face and made her heart stutter. "Who said anything about sex? It’s where the food replicator is located. Although, since you keep offering, I am not averse to testing the merchandise after
our meal."
Megan’s mouth rounded into an ‘O’ of surprise. "Like hell."
"I would assume you mean no. But do not blame me for offering. You are the one who keeps referring to intercourse. I was just trying to meet your obviously insatiable needs." He eyed her frame up and down in a slow perusal that ignited a slow burn between her legs.
She pressed her thighs tight together. "I need another lover like I need a hole in my head. No thank you. And I am not some kind of nymphomaniac." Even if the current conversation was making her hot.
"If you say so," he drawled as he led the way into a large suite, which, of course, held a massive round bed.
Megan ignored it, afraid any comment would lead him to believe she wanted to test its springs—which her pussy certainly did—but went against the grain. While she enjoyed a healthy sexual appetite, she had one teensy tiny requirement in her partners. She had to at least like them.
She wandered around the space noting the table bordered by chairs that appeared made of rubber. A shelving unit built into the wall held strange objects, figurines of creatures, but like she’d never imagined. One appeared a mix of fairy and a dragon in a rainbow of colors. Another, a voluptuous woman with five boobs, waved four arms.
"Are these real creatures?" she asked running her finger across their varied surfaces.
"Keepsakes from some of my more notable conquests," he boasted.
She snatched her hand back and whirled with wide eyes. "You fucked all of them?"
He frowned at her. "If you mean had sex, then yes. But that’s only a fraction of the females I’ve been with, and like I said, the most memorable."
"Great, I’m stuck on a ship with man whore," she snorted with disgust; although, she couldn’t deny a certain curiosity. Exactly how knowledgeable is he about the female form?
"I am not paid to pleasure my partners. However, if the need is great and I am not in the mood to woo, then I will recompense a female for her time."
Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart Page 16
