by Sadie Carter
Alien
Warrior
Sadie Carter
Copyright
Sadie Carter
Alien Warrior.
© 2015, Sadie Carter
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
This story contains explicit sex scenes and BDSM. R18
Cover Design: No Sweat Graphics
Editor: Christie Giraud: EbookEditingPro
Chapter One
Tension seeped from her muscles as the lifebot’s expert hands massaged the kinks out of her back. She sighed in contentment.
Why had she been putting this off?
Oh yeah, because getting access to a lifebot meant going through Luke Pressad, MD, and DH – Dickhead. Every time she got close to him, he found some excuse to touch her. She shuddered. His skin was always cold and clammy.
Gross.
The shrink had been out to make her life a misery ever since she’d refused to sleep with him. So she’d waited until she was truly desperate for some release before applying to Pressad for access to one of the communal lifebots.
The lifebot moved down to her buttocks, squeezing and massaging them. He pulled her cheeks apart, running a finger down over her asshole. She tensed, reaching back to cover her ass with her hand.
“Not there,” she ordered.
“But you wanted me to pleasure you.”
“Yes, but I didn’t say you could touch me there.” As usual, she’d rushed in without taking the time to properly program him for her desires. It had just been so long since she’d been touched like this. Sad as it sounded, she was kind of desperate.
Desperate enough to use a robot.
Yep, that was pretty desperate. But it wasn’t like there was much choice. It was the lifebot or her own fingers and she was tired of getting herself off. With the lifebot, she could at least pretend he was a real man.
Fingers dipped down to her lower lips, parting them.
“You’re not turned on,” the lifebot said. It was scary how lifelike they were. No wonder she wasn’t turned on—too much thinking about Pressad was bound to turn anyone off.
Zoey closed her eyes, attempting to conjure up a fantasy to help things along.
A dashing, dark pirate kidnaps her from her bed, whisking her away, his voice deep and seductive as he ties her to his bed. Naked, helpless, she lies there, spread-eagled, her pulse racing, knowing she shouldn’t want him, but with every touch, every taste, her need grows. Moisture coats her pussy as he teases her mercilessly.
Leaning in, his breath tickles her ear as he whispers wicked promises. “Think about your every dirty fantasy, about all those forbidden dreams. I’m going to fulfill every one. I’m going to keep you here, tied to my bed until your voice is hoarse from screaming, your body stretched to the edge with the pleasure I’ll force upon you.”
A warning siren blasted through her fantasy and she rolled off the table, knocking into the lifebot. He didn’t even flinch.
Duh! He’s a damn robot, Zoey.
She hastily scrambled into her clothes, a pair of form-fitting pants and an over-sized shirt.
“But I haven’t given you any pleasure yet,” the lifebot complained as she raced towards the door.
“Ah, sorry. Next time?” Zoey raced out of the room. “Okay, you just apologized to a robot. You really need to go on a date, Zoey. With an actual man.”
Like that was ever going to happen. She was stuck in a military outpost on a planet with no other inhabitants and few visitors. There was only a handful of single men and most of them were twenty years older than her.
She heaved for breath as she raced down the passage. “You are so unfit, Zoey,” she muttered to herself.
The last time the emergency siren sounded, these giant rat-like things had eaten their way through some of the perimeter fencing. It had been a shock, considering it was supposed to be impenetrable.
Zoey ran across the courtyard and into the command center. The compound was a square, with buildings on all four sides and an open area in the middle. The whole area was covered by a massive dome. The dome was there to protect them from the wildlife, especially these flying lizard-like things that breathed fire from their noses.
“Remind me again why I wanted to live on this God-forsaken planet,” she muttered.
For adventure. To test yourself. To see the Universe.
Except all she did around here was think up new ways to annoy the dickhead.
As she raced into the command room, Pressad looked up. Around the room, everyone was calm but there was an air of tension. Something bigger was going on than a few holes in their perimeter fencing.
“Zoelle, finished so soon?” Pressad smirked.
Smug bastard. With the amount of innuendo in his voice and the sly look he was aiming her way, any idiot could work out what she’d been doing.
“Oh, shut your pie hole, Pressad,” she told him.
Zoey spent a lot of time watching old movies and television shows to pass the time. She loved using insults that the dickhead didn’t understand.
He frowned. His ego wouldn’t permit him to let on that he didn’t understand her. Instead, he ignored her, turning away to read his tablet.
Satisfied, she took a seat. After majoring in alien studies and strategic operations on Earth, Zoey had been stationed here on Solim. She’d had high expectations of being able to put her knowledge to good use.
Unfortunately, soon after she’d arrived, the trade routes had been interrupted by a war erupting between the Darins and the Korklas. Now, the only ships that came their way were cargo ships from Earth and the occasional transporter.
For a whole year, she’d been stuck here in perpetual boredom, watching old films and thinking up new ways to piss the dickhead off.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
The commander of the station turned to look at her, his face tense. Another man she didn’t particularly get along with. Commander Jared Montclare did not care for women. In any way, shape, or form. In fact, he seemed to hate the opposite sex. But she was not about to bow down to him just because he didn’t like what she had between her legs.
“Zerconian warship,” he told her. “It just entered our atmosphere. They’re requesting permission to land.”
Her eyes widened as she gaped at the commander. “A warship? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said impatiently. “I didn’t make it up for fun, Ms. Mira. Well? What do you think?”
What did she think? Why was he asking her?
Because you’re supposed to be the expert, dummy. This is what you’ve been waiting for, so answer the man.
Zoey cleared her throat. “I know they don’t need permission to land. They could wipe us out with their blasters. Their battleships are three times the size of this compound.”
“I know all that,” he said dismissively. “But they are asking to land. Does that mean they’re friendly?”
“They’re not part of the Alliance, so we have no peace agreement with them. They’re a patriarchal race. Arguments are generally settled through violence. At least among the men. They keep their women secluded so we know very little about them.”
Zoey searched her brain, trying to think of what else she knew. “They’re large, powerfully built. Violent and aggressive. Their plane
t is rich in resources and wealth.”
“It would be advantageous for us to establish an alliance with them then,” Pressad interjected slyly.
She stared at him in disbelief. “How the hell would we do that? Commander, they are not a race we want to mess with.”
“Just think, Commander,” Pressad countered. “If you were to bring a treaty with the Zerconians back to Earth, why, I’m sure you’d have your pick of command stations.”
Had Pressad gone insane?
“They won’t want to negotiate a treaty with us,” she countered. “That’s not why they’re here.”
The commander turned to her. “They why are they here?”
She resisted the urge to shrug. How the hell should she know?
“What did they say?” she asked.
“They just said they had an issue onboard and they needed to land to fix it,” Whiz, their communications expert explained. “We need to answer them.”
Zoey licked her lips, thinking fast. They didn’t want to anger the Zerconians by refusing to accommodate them. At the same time, they could have an ulterior motive.
“Let them land and fix the problem, but I don’t think we should engage with them,” she advised.
“This could be your big break, Commander,” Pressad countered. “Your chance to prove what a superior leader you are. Just think about what your superiors would say if they knew you had the chance to talk to the Zerconians and you didn’t take it.”
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath.
Whiz turned to look at her with sympathy. She didn’t care if he felt sorry for her or not, she needed some back-up to convince the commander that this was a terrible idea.
Whiz shook his head apologetically as she pleaded with him silently. Great, she was surrounded by spineless idiots and manipulative jerks.
The commander nodded. “Good idea, Pressad. Glad there is someone useful on this team. Give them the all-clear to land. They can use landing bay one since it’s the largest.”
“And,” Pressad added, “I think that Ms. Mira should be the one to greet them.”
What? She turned around. Had he lost his ever-loving mind? While she worked for the galactic military, she was still a civilian.
The commander frowned. “But if they’re a patriarchal society won’t they want to deal with a man? And I am the commander of this station.”
Thank God. At least someone hadn’t lost his mind. She turned to Pressad with a superior smile. It was childish, but hey, she’d take her wins where she could.
“I don’t want to discount Ms. Mira’s advice,” Pressad said. “After all, she is the expert on other cultures. If she is worried they could be confrontational or dangerous then sending a woman to greet them is probably the wisest course of action. And being our specialist, she is best equipped to negotiate with them.”
Oh my God. Was he actually trying to get her killed? They had no idea what the Zerconians might want. The fact that they had asked for permission before landing was a positive sign. Hopefully. But who knew? Maybe they were planning to turn them all into sex slaves.
Ick, who would want Pressad as a sex slave?
“I don’t think—” Whiz started to say.
“Excellent idea, Pressad,” the commander interrupted him. “Mira, go and greet our visitors. And try to make yourself a bit more presentable.” He ran his gaze over her clothes in disgust.
She wore a shirt four sizes too big because it hid her body from Pressad’s lecherous gaze. Now the commander wanted her to put on something nice for some overgrown, violent aliens?
Yep, she was doomed.
Pressad smirked at her. “Oh, and she should go without guards. That might send the wrong message. We don’t want them to think we don’t trust them.”
No way. The commander would never agree to that.
“Agreed. Well, Mira, what are you doing just standing there? Get moving.”
She’d lived a boring, safe life these past twenty-two years. Now she found herself regretting all those missed opportunities. She should have eaten more chocolate. Drunk more alcohol. Had sex. Yep, she really should have had lots of dirty, hot sex.
Too late now.
Chapter Two
Crown Prince Dexanon Xa’a watched as his pilot landed the battleship. It dwarfed the transport ship already docked in the landing bay. He studied the buildings. This must be where the planet’s occupants lived. Puzzled, he wondered why that area was under a dome while their landing bay was exposed to the elements.
“Why would they live under a giant dome?” his cousin and the ship’s chief healer, Thor, muttered from beside him.
“Perhaps they cannot survive in the open atmosphere?” His personal bodyguard and best friend, Koran, spoke up. “Earthlings are an inferior race. Weak and not very intelligent, according to our research.”
Dex frowned. “But they leave their transporter out here. It makes no sense. Anyone could tamper with it and leave them without the means to evacuate.”
Getting out of here quickly was high on his priority list. Most of this planet’s surface was desert. Bleak and dry. There was just this one small outpost built in the middle of nowhere. If their ship hadn’t sustained damage from an unexpected fight with the Coizils, they wouldn’t have landed here. But this was the closest planet and they needed to turn off parts of their operating system so the engineers could fix the damaged area.
“Think they’ll come out of their dome to speak to us?” Thor asked.
Koran snorted. “They’re probably shaking with fear. They’ll watch us from a distance, thinking they are nice and safe behind their glass wall.”
“And they’ll stay safe,” Dex warned. “We’re not here to make war with them.”
“It wouldn’t be a war, Dex,” Koran countered. “It would be a slaughter.”
He nodded. “Exactly. They have nothing we want. Let’s just fix our engine and be on our way.”
“Crown Prince?” Aarex, assistant navigator of the ship, called out. “The dome is opening.”
Dex tensed. Now what? Not that he was worried about an attack. Earthers weren’t a warrior race. They tended to rely on their Alliance membership to protect them from other, more superior races. He had more than two hundred warriors on this battleship, all of whom were highly trained and always ready for any trouble.
“It appears we were wrong,” Thor stated. “Someone is brave enough to approach us.”
“Or stupid enough.” Koran sneered. “They’re alone. And just look how small they are. I knew Earthling males were small, but this one wouldn’t even reach my shoulder.”
“Think it could be a trick?” Aarex asked. “I’ve scanned him. He’s not armed. But the male could be a decoy to deceive us.”
Dex frowned, watching the way the lone Earther walked. There was something about the way he moved.
Was that? No, surely not.
He stepped forward, studying the being intently. A gust of wind pushed his shirt against his chest.
Incredulous, he could barely believe what he was seeing. “It’s a female.”
***
Zoey forced herself to keep moving, even though she wanted to run back to the safety of the dome like a coward. She kept her shoulders thrust back, stifling the urge to hunch over in fear.
She would not give Pressad the satisfaction of knowing she was scared. She studied her surroundings, watching for any sign of the planet’s dangerous wildlife.
She analyzed all the risks and calculated the likelihood of getting out of this alive.
Not good. Really, not good.
“Hell, if the Zerconians don’t kill me, those fire-breathing lizards probably will,” she muttered to herself. “Why me? What did I do to deserve this?”
Okay, so calling Pressad a self-serving, egotistical, needledick pervert had probably not worked in her favor. But her mama had raised her to always tell the truth.
Sometimes the truth hurt. She just hadn’t expected it to hurt he
r.
Cautiously, she approached the huge battleship. Seriously, how many people could this thing hold? They were so doomed. Zoey stood there, waiting. What was she going to do if they didn’t respond? How long was she supposed to stand here, like some wallflower that had been stood up for the prom after her date got a better offer?
Suddenly, part of the ship separated away, lowering to the ground to form a ramp. She waited, holding her breath. No way was she walking inside. That would be like entering the lion’s den.
Three males ran down the ramp and, ignoring her, took up positions around her, blasters at the ready. Another three men strode down the ramp. They moved like they owned the planet. Confident. Self-assured.
Tight pants covered their long, muscular legs. They all wore leather-like vests, baring their impressive biceps, which would have put the Hulk’s to shame. She swallowed as heat filled her body.
Oh no. No, no, no. She did not find their muscular perfection attractive. They were too big, too brutish, too incredibly attractive.
Shit.
As they came closer, she had to crane her neck to look up. Way up. They had to be well over seven foot. She was five foot five and they dwarfed her. They all had tanned skin and dark eyes, but that was where the similarities ended.
Zoey worked hard to keep herself calm. Breathe in. Breathe out. The man to her right had long, silky, midnight-black hair that reached his shoulders. Dark eyes studied her thoroughly. A thin scar ran down the side of his thick neck. He frowned at her fiercely, his whole body screaming his disapproval.
What the hell did he find so objectionable? She scowled back at him.
The man to the left chuckled. She turned to study him. His dark eyes twinkled as he stared down at her. His slightly disheveled, dark-blond hair wasn’t as long as Grumpy’s, but it still reached the bottom of his jaw.
They were both attractive men, but it was the one in the middle who truly stole her attention. His short, blond hair looked almost white. Deep, brown eyes watched her intently from a face that was too rugged to be called handsome.
