Desire: Ten sizzling, romantic tales for Valentine’s Day!

by Opal Carew

  “Perfect.” Sarden sounded extremely pleased. “That’s good work Al. Now all we need is a mechanic’s shop that will deal with unattached males as well.”

  “That…might be more difficult. Such commerce is closely regulated,” Al said hesitantly. “Perhaps the Lady Zoe—”

  “The Lady Zoe is going to stay right here aboard The Celesta under lock and key. It’s the safest place for her.”

  “What? But I want to go too,” I protested, wiggling around so that we were face to face. “I told you—I’ve never seen an alien spaceport. Hell, I’ve never seen any spaceport!”

  “That’s too bad,” Sarden growled, sitting up. “Because you’re not going to see one now either. I told you, the area I’m going to isn’t safe for you. And even if it was, I wouldn’t reward your treachery last night by allowing you to come.”

  “It wasn’t treachery, it was self preservation!” I protested. “I just wanted to lock you up and go back to Earth.”

  “You couldn’t have locked me up with those, even if you’d managed to get them on me.” He nodded at the manacles encircling my wrists. “They’re keyed to Vornish skin signature. One firm press of the lock-light would have set me free and then you’d be in the same position you are now.”

  “I was just trying to get back home!” I snapped. “Can you honestly tell me you’d have done anything different in my place?”

  “I most certainly would have—I wouldn’t have missed,” he said grimly as he did something to the manacles which were still keeping my arms above my head. “Now get up—I have just time enough to feed you first meal before I have to go meet this collector.”

  “Feed me?” I protested, sitting up and rolling my shoulders as well as I could with my hands still cuffed in front of me.

  Sarden raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Would you rather I let you go hungry?”

  “No, I’d rather feed myself. Like I did last night,” I said pointedly. “I know how to use the food-sim now, remember?”

  “I don’t think so.” He frowned. “You lost your ship privileges when you snuck into my room and aimed a pipe at my head. From now on, I’m going to treat you like I should have from the first—you’re going to be shackled in your room from now until we get to Giedi Prime.”

  “But—”

  “Now what do you want for breakfast?” he asked, cutting off my indignant protest. “It will have to be something from one of my home worlds, unfortunately. Perhaps some Eloim pandan broth would do you good.”

  I started to protest again but he was already up and out of the bed, busy getting ready to go and apparently not caring if I watched.

  He’d been wearing a pair of long black sleep trousers kind of like pajama pants. Now he shucked them off and threw them into a small chute I hadn’t seen earlier.

  He sauntered naked into the bathroom—which I could see from the bed—and got into the vertical bathtub tank. The purple cleansing liquid—which would have been well over my head, barely came up to his impossibly broad shoulders.

  I shivered as I watched him dunk his head, letting the purple liquid close over him as though it was no big deal. For most people I suppose it wouldn’t have been. But for me…it was a whole different story.

  I thought again of sinking in the watery depths, of the panicked cries ringing in my ears…and quickly pushed the memory away.

  Sarden didn’t take long in the personal bathing chamber. In less than two minutes he was out and standing in the mister. He did something to the controls and warm jets of air came out instead of mist. Hmm, so apparently it could be used as just a dryer—you didn’t always have to get wet. Good to know if I was ever going to go into that freaking drowning-tank bathtub—which I absolutely was not.

  Of course, I was watching the big alien’s bathing routine from the corner of my eye, trying to pretend I was concentrating on something else. I didn’t want to watch him at all but somehow I couldn’t help it—I’d never seen anyone so huge and muscular outside an action movie. Or maybe a male revue. One time Leah and Charlotte and I had gone to see The Thunder from Down Under—a male strip show from Australia. Those guys were in amazing shape—all muscular and oiled up but somehow none of them was half as hot as Sarden, though I would rather die than admit it.

  The other reason I was trying not to look, was that my eyes kept getting drawn to his crotch. He was every bit as big as I’d suspected and I couldn’t help staring once or twice, when he came into full frontal view. God—hung like a Clydesdale and with about as much modesty, I couldn’t help thinking as he took his time pulling on a pair of tight leather trousers and tucking his considerable endowment into them.

  When he was done, there was a substantial bulge that ran down the inside of his left thigh—and he wasn’t even hard. I didn’t want to think about how big he’d be if he was. The mental image that formed in my brain was downright scary.

  I couldn’t imagine trying to accommodate equipment that large. I wondered if Eloim and Vorn women were better able to take someone like Sarden—presumably so, or their respective species would have died out years ago from terminal too-big-to-handle-dickitis.

  “Enjoying the show?” Sarden asked, pulling another sleeveless temp-shirt over his head. This one was white and it stood out nicely in contrast to his deep red skin. His thick black hair was slicked back and his horns were even more prominent. His golden eyes glowed with amusement. It was no lie to say he was devilishly good looking—more of an understatement, really. Which really pissed me off. Why couldn’t I be kidnapped by an ugly alien so I could hate him a little more?

  “I don’t…don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, looking away as I felt my cheeks get hot.

  “Sure you don’t.” He did a little bump and grind and since he was standing and I was still sitting on the bed, his crotch was almost eye-level with me. The bulge in his trousers was a lot closer than I liked.

  “Get that thing away from me,” I said irritably. “So you’ve got a huge wang. So what?”

  “So you were looking.” He grinned, apparently in a good mood this morning. “And actually, I’m about average for my species.”

  “Which one? An Eloim or a Vorn?” I asked, interested despite myself.

  He frowned, some of his good mood evaporating.

  “A Vorn. As I told you, Eloim are a much smaller people. But we don’t have time to talk.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’ll make you first meal, as I promised.”

  “So I’m just supposed to sit here and wait? Can’t you at least take off the cuffs so I can take a shower?” I pleaded.

  Sarden shook his head. “You should be fine with the Force Locks on—the cleansing liquid won’t affect them.”

  “What?” I looked at the awful vertical bathtub. “No, I didn’t mean that thing—there’s no way I’m getting in there! I just wanted to take a shower in the mister.”

  He frowned. “The mister won’t truly get you clean—it’s only for momentary refreshment.”

  “I don’t care,” I said stubbornly. “I’m not getting into that huge purple drowning-tank thing. You’re really tall but that purple cleanser stuff would go clear over my head.”

  “Only until you kicked your way to the top,” he pointed out. “Or can’t you swim?”

  A convulsive shudder went through me—I couldn’t help it.

  “No,” I said in a low voice. “No, I…I can’t swim.”

  “And the idea of getting in over your head scares you?” he persisted.

  “What do you think?” I snapped. “Look, I’d rather not talk about it, okay?”

  Sarden leaned closer, studying me closely.

  “It does scare you,” he murmured. “The idea of water closing over your head scares you nearly to death, doesn’t it?”

  I refused to answer this and only looked away.

  “Poor little Pure One. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. Maybe I can help you bathe when I get back from this deal.” He cupped my cheek in an i
rritatingly condescending way as though I was a frightened child or a puppy that needed to be comforted.

  “Asshole.” Since my hands were cuffed with the heavy manacles, I couldn’t really bat him away. So I snapped at him instead.

  He withdrew his long fingers just in time to get them out of reach of my teeth, his eyes widening.

  “Feeling feisty this morning, are we?” he remarked mildly.

  “All kinds of feisty, which you’ll find out if you try petting me like a scared puppy again,” I told him.

  “I don’t know what a puppy is but I’ll keep it in mind,” he said dryly. “Well, I don’t have time to bathe you now but I can give you a change of shirts—I’m afraid all of my trousers will be too big for you, though.”

  “All right,” I said at once, thinking he would certainly have to uncuff me in order to get the shirt over my head and arms and put a new one on me. And once I had the cuffs off, maybe I could convince him to leave them off.

  “Get off the bed,” he directed. He had done something to the wall that made a kind of closet appear and he was rummaging through his shirts. Finally he pulled out another sleeveless shirt identical to the one he had on.

  “Wait,” I said. “Don’t you have something with a little more, uh, coverage?”

  “Why? Are you cold?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “The temp-shirt should keep you warm all over.”

  “It does,” I said. “But it’s kind of, um revealing.”

  “So it is.” His golden eyes roved over me again, as though I was some luscious dessert he was dying to take a bite of.

  I tried to ignore the lascivious way he was eyeing me.

  “Look, do you have something else or not?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” Reaching in the closet again, he pulled out a long-sleeved shirt in black. Were black and white the only colors he owned? Then again, with his deep red skin, I was betting his color choices were probably pretty limited. You don’t want to clash with your own clothes. I have kind of the same problem with my red hair—I’ve never been able to wear pink although I’ve always wanted to.

  “That looks good,” I said and held out my hands. “Take these things off so I can put it on. Please,” I added, hoping that being polite would help.

  But Sarden shook his head.

  “Not necessary. Look.”

  He touched the light between the manacles and it glowed green for a moment, just as it had for me the night before. Then he did something else to it and it glowed purple.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, frowning.

  “You’ll see.”

  Before I could ask anything else, he knelt in front of me, grasped the bottom hem of the black t-shirt I was wearing and pulled it right off my head and over my arms. Somehow the fabric passed right through the chains of the manacles though he hadn’t unlocked them at all, leaving me completely naked.

  “Hey!” I tried to cover myself with my arms but with my hands cuffed in front of me, there were limits to what I could hide.

  “What’s wrong?” Sarden asked.

  “What do you mean, what’s wrong? I’m naked.” I could feel myself blushing furiously as I scrambled to shield myself.

  “So you are.” He was giving me that look again—that big, bad wolf look that made my pulse race for some reason. “Is nudity really such a problem for your people?” he murmured.

  “Yes, it freaking well is,” I snapped.

  “But it shouldn’t be. And besides, I’ve seen you without clothing several times before,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, and I was embarrassed every time.”

  “Embarrassed? Hmm…” He came closer and traced one long finger over my collar bone. “Is that what this red flush means? Your skin is almost as red as mine.”

  “Yes, that’s what it means,” I admitted. He was still giving me that intense look and I felt like my heart was trying to pound its way out of my chest. “Stop that,” I said, wishing my voice didn’t sound so breathless.

  “Stop what?”

  “Looking at me like that. Like…like you want to eat me up.”

  “As a matter of fact I would love to eat you,” he rumbled, his golden eyes half-lidded now. “Vorn and Eloim both are very partial to pleasing their lovers with their tongues. There is no finer flavor than a wet and willing female.”

  “I didn’t mean like that.” My cheeks were getting hotter and hotter and I couldn’t help crossing my legs.

  “What’s wrong?” He looked surprised. “Don’t you enjoy letting a male taste you?”

  As a matter of fact, I didn’t. It always made me intensely uncomfortable whenever I let a guy try it—not that many had offered. Scott couldn’t be bothered and the boyfriend I’d had in college had done nothing but a few perfunctory licks before deciding he’d done his duty and it was time to get down to actual sex, which was always the main event, of course.

  But there was no way I was telling Sarden all that.

  “Don’t talk like that to me,” I said, lifting my chin and frowning at him. “If my hands weren’t cuffed, I’d slap your face.” If I could reach it, that was.

  “Really?” He frowned. “Don’t you give open and honest sexual compliments on Earth?”

  “Not unless you’re a freaking construction worker,” I snapped. “It’s considered rude and invasive.”

  He shook his head. “On Vorn 6 it’s considered extremely polite to tell a female how sexually arousing you find her and how you would enjoy pleasuring her.”

  Well, that certainly explained why he felt so free to constantly talk about how sexy he thought I was. Which really didn’t make any sense, as far as I was concerned. I mean, I’ve got a pretty face and a lot of guys like my hair, but I’m still rocking a plus-sized booty which has kept more than one man from looking my way.

  “I don’t understand you,” I said, frowning at him. “You could have picked anyone—any female—on Earth, right?”

  “Of course.” He nodded.

  “And you chose me? I mean, you could have had a supermodel and instead you picked a paralegal. You should have kept looking on that AMI thingy.”

  “A supermodel?” His forehead creased in concentration. “Oh yes, I think I know the females you’re talking about. The Commercians showed them to me as an example of what Earth males find attractive.”

  “What?” I couldn’t keep the incredulous note out of my voice. “You actually saw the supermodels and you still picked me?”

  “Yes, I saw them. The Commercians showed me Bianca and Ellsbeth and several others.”

  I could feel my eyes getting wide. “Those girls are at the top of the industry. I can’t believe you passed them up and went for me instead!”

  “Do you really think so poorly of yourself?” He looked at me curiously.

  “Well, no…” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I have a pretty face and pretty good hair when it’s not too humid. But I’m not tall enough or thin enough to be a supermodel.” Then again, almost no one is, and the fashion industry makes damn sure we never forget it.

  Sarden shrugged his broad shoulders. “Those females were all long, skinny limbs with no padding—nothing to hold on to. They most certainly didn’t tempt me so I was pretty sure they wouldn’t tempt Tazaxx either.”

  The reminder that he was planning to trade me away kind of put a damper on his compliment but I still couldn’t get over the fact that he’d picked plain, ordinary me over the highest paid models on Earth. I guess there’s no accounting for alien taste.

  “When I saw you,” Sarden continued. “I knew you were the one. You were angry with a male who had thrown something at your head. You shouted and stormed away from him. Anger made your eyes bright and brought a flush to your cheeks. It was most fetching. And when I saw how ample your figure was, well…” He gave me his little one-sided grin. “How could I resist?”

  “Wow…just wow.” I was literally at a loss for words which almost never happens to me. He’d picked me because of my figure, n
ot in spite of it. Maybe I should have gone back to Weight Watchers and tried harder to lose my luscious hips and overlarge ass. If I’d known it might keep me from being abducted by aliens, you bet I would have counted points until Doomsday.

  “It’s a shame to cover such beauty but I need to get your first meal if I’m going to feed you before I go,” Sarden remarked.

  Deftly, he slipped the sleeves of the black shirt over my arms and again, they went over the chain between the manacles as though it wasn’t there. There were no buttons on the shirt—instead it tied on both sides and made a V-neckline in the middle. Sarden knelt in front of me again to get it right. He was so tall that even kneeling, his face was at the level of my breasts.

  When he was done, I felt like I was wearing a wrap dress that was a little too big for me. The sleeves, of course, were more than a little too big—they came down about a foot past my fingertips. Sarden rolled them up for me and then stood back to admire his handiwork.

  “Perfect,” he murmured, nodding. “You look a hell of a lot better in my dress shirt than I do.”

  Eyeing his broad, muscular shoulders I had to disagree with that. I was betting he would look freaking spectacular in this shirt. However, it did set off my pale skin and red hair nicely and the V-neckline was really sexy.

  The look was kind of ruined by the big heavy manacles clamped around my wrists though.

  Sarden left to make me some food and came back with a steaming bowl of some kind of broth with wide, flat noodle things floating in it. Did I mention the noodles were bright green and the broth was pink? I wasn’t overly thrilled to try it but the big alien wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  He got me seated at the desk, which was back to its blank, empty state, and dragged up another chair to face me.

  “Eloim pandan broth,” he said dipping a long-handled spoon-like utensil into the pinkish broth and offering it to me. “Exactly like I had as a child. Eat it—you’ll like it.”

  “I…don’t know.” I eyed the pink broth uncertainly. It wasn’t pale pink, mind you—it was full on Barbie Dream House hot pink. It’s not a color you expect to run across when you’re eating soup. Still, I didn’t’ like to insult what was clearly a comfort food for him.