The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8

by Mills, Michele

  How could she resist? Resistance was futile when it came to this man. His wet hair fell straight down his back in shiny waves of dark amber. Water cut across all of his dips and planes. The perfect definition at his hips was particularly mesmerizing, as was his cock with those amazing ridges that when inside of her felt like a vibrator specially crafted for her pleasure. It was hard again and begging for her attention.

  On the slave ship, he’d touched her, deciding on the spot that she was his. From his first touch she’d been consumed with raging hormones like nothing she’d ever experienced. As a matter of fact, she could fuck him again. Climb on top of him right now. Which was kinda pathetic, and scary, too.

  She’d never felt like this about any man. Not for the boyfriend who’d torn her heart out freshman year at college when she’d caught him cheating on her with her BFF. And also not for Roberto, the high school boyfriend she’d given her virginity to in the back of his truck, only to later realize she was part of his rotating harem of girlfriends.

  None of these other boys were as remotely sexy as this giant male in the shower.

  When Joyzal was done washing her, he turned on an air blower that instantly dried them both. It was a weird rush of wind like a whole-body blow dryer. Joyzal grinned at the shocked expression on her face as the air had blasted them both. One moment they’d been wet, and the next they were dry, no towels needed. Jacole was pleased with the results because strangely, when she looked into the mirror, her short hair was placed in perfectly arranged, gleaming curls and looked a little more Xylan.

  Joyzal left her alone in the restroom so she could use the toilet. She giggled at all the buttons it had. Heated seat or gentle massage? She choose the heated seat and for air freshener to waft up during use. It was all pretty darn cool. She could get used to this. Afterwards, she stepped out of the restroom, naked as the day she was born, and Joyzal immediately handed her some clothes.

  “This is all I have for you to wear at the moment. This ship has a clothing manufacturing device, but it is basic. I will purchase more for you when we return to Zamarilla,” he said before he walked into the restroom. She stood there alone for a minute, still awestruck by the vision of Joyzal’s beefy ass as he’d walked away and shut the door behind him. Because, wow, that image was a poster she could objectify every damn day.

  She shook her head and reoriented on the here and now and checked out the clothes he’d given her. She unfolded a large blue tunic with a V neck and a pair of black billowy pants. She put them both on. The shirt went down almost to mid-thigh, and the pants were a bit long, but not bad. She liked how the pants were so light and silky. The top was substantial but still felt very soft, she didn’t have a bra and she was worried her girls were a little too “out there.” Oh well, what could she do about it? Nothing. She stepped into the pair of light boots that came with the outfit. Normally, shoe fitting consisted of her trying to shove her large feet into tiny shoes, feeling like Cinderella’s evil stepsisters, but these shoes fit perfectly.

  Joyzal walked back in. “Do the clothes fit?”

  “Yes,” she answered, grateful yet again to be clean and clothed properly after her ordeal on the slave ship. She’d never take a warm bed, shower, and a toilet for granted ever again.

  A pleasant chime sounded throughout the ship. Jacole turned her head. “What is that?”

  “There is an incoming vid message for Joyzal of Six,” the computer intoned. “From Melachine of Eighteen”

  “Who?” Jacole asked.

  Joyzal shook his head, and a rueful smile formed on his lips. “It’s my mother. She suffers from chronic bad timing.”

  “What?” she sputtered. Jacole hadn’t imagined this badass warrior would have something so mundane happening in his life as taking calls from his mother. “Your mother is calling you? Are you kidding me?”

  “No, I am not kidding you. And why would I make light of this situation? Also, Xylans do not lie,” he continued. “We are honorable. Other species tell untruths. Xylans always tell the truth, no matter the outcome. Truth is first in honor. Computer, tell Melachine that I will answer her call in a quarter rotation.”

  “Confirmed.”

  “Why is your mother calling you? Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission? And wait, I thought you said you were an orphan.”

  “She is my adoptive mother,” he answered as he opened a drawer and took out a tunic and pants for himself. Both were black and similar to what she was wearing. “When I last spoke to Melachine, she was trying to set up mating compatibility with the youngest daughter of an esteemed line on Chronos. I told her no, and she was disappointed. She is calling from our home on Zamarilla—the home you and I will share.”

  She froze. “You live with your mother?” Oh dear God, had she mated with the alien equivalent of a guy who was living in his mom’s basement?

  “Yes,” he said as he pulled the tunic over his head, covering his magnificent chest. She did her best to ignore the gorgeous penis that was resting against his thighs. “All Xylans live in the same compound as their extended line. This is common. Is it not the same on your planet?”

  She thought about it. “Well, yeah, I think a lot of people actually do live that way, with extended family. But a lot of people don’t. I lived alone.”

  He nodded and pulled on his pants, covering that lovely ridged cock, a total eclipse of the sun. She forced herself to lift her chin and meet his gaze. “I also lived alone for many rotations,” he answered. “But I find it preferable to live with family.”

  She stepped forward, put her hand on his forearm and gripped tightly. Her lips formed a thin line. “Wait. Do you want me in here while you talk to her? Do you want her to see me? How will she feel about this if she was trying to set you up with someone else?”

  Joyzal chuckled and bent down to put on his own boots. “When Melachine finds out that you are my Bride, she will be the happiest of females.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” He stood up straight. “Follow me. We will speak to her on the bridge.”

  Joyzal placed his palm on a square panel on the wall and the door to his room swished open. He escorted her out with a hand on the small of her back. As they walked down the hall, he reached down and enveloped her small hand with his big, rough claws. Warmth for this man heated within her chest. It wasn’t fair that he was so wonderful and yet in the end unattainable. She had to admit this was a man who she wished there was no end date for. But he was temporary. All men were. She needed to never forget that simple rule. It was the only way to save her heart.

  Her mind flashed back to the shower they had taken together and the incredible sex. The emotions glowing in his eyes when his coarse shaft had pounded into her…

  The door to the bridge swooshed open. A cool breeze brushed against her hot cheeks. She did her best to ignore the warmth that seemed to continuously flare between her thighs whenever she thought of her time with Joyzal. She was about to meet his mother. This was getting serious. And she didn’t know how she felt about that.

  “Computer, turn on the vid screen,” he ordered. “We are ready to accept.”

  A screen blinked on the wall next to them. An elegant Xylan female appeared before them, darker skinned than Joyzal and, in fact, darker than Jacole. Her skin glowed with a luminous sheen. Her hair was swept off her face and formed dark, gold-tinted, shiny rows over her shoulders. She was dressed in a blue blouse with extra fabric that crossed over her chest. There were creases around her eyes and gray near her temples. She had the same serious-looking ridges on her forehead as Joyzal, and when she lifted her hands Jacole saw the Xylan four claw-tipped fingers, except Melachine’s claws were painted the same color as her shirt.

  Classy.

  Joyzal stood directly in front of the vid screen, blocking his mother’s view of her as he spoke. “Good morning, Melachine.”

  “Joyzal.” She nodded. “I know you said we would discuss this further upon your return, but—”


  Their voices faded away. Jacole looked down at her own clothes. After seeing the way Melachine was put together, she couldn’t help feeling she wasn’t exactly dressed to meet her future mother-in-law. Even if she had zero trust in this relationship, this woman would still be a major player in her life for the foreseeable future. She needed to build a new life with these people and here she was, in clothes that were too big and looked like loungewear, no make-up, and no jewelry. Damn. She really wanted to make a good impression.

  Joyzal stepped aside. Jacole looked up. “Mother, this is Jacole of One. She is my Bride.” Her heart warmed at the pride for her she heard in his voice.

  She met Melachine’s gaze and smiled. “Actually, I’m named after my great-grandmother. She was the first Jacole. I’m the second.”

  Joyzal grinned. “Mother, I reintroduce you to my Bride, Jacole of Two.”

  “Your Bride?” his mother gasped. Her eyes were wide as they scanned up and down, examining every inch of Jacole. Her clawed hands went to the sides of her cheeks for a moment. She was practically bouncing with happiness. “Oh, she’s beautiful. Joyzal, your Bride is perfection. Your line will be strong. But…how…? Joyzal, where did you find a female of royal pigment to test for mating compatibility? You were on a mission. This is impossible…” she sputtered.

  “She is human,” he answered patiently. “She’s not Xylan. If you look closely, you’ll see she is lacking ridges and claws. There was no need for her to be offered by her line. She doesn’t have a line on Chronos.”

  “Human? What is that?”

  “I’m an Earthling,” Jacole interrupted, hoping she could help to explain better. “I live, well, lived on the planet Earth until I was kidnapped by alien space pirates.”

  “She was on the ship when I recovered my last target,” Joyzal confirmed.

  “You rescued her? Is that why your hair is shorn? Is that because of your captivity, or do humans choose to do that to their hair?”

  Jacole touched her short hair. “Um, I chose to do that.”

  “Can it grow back if left alone?”

  “Yes, it can.”

  “Good.” Melachine smiled brightly. She looked toward Joyzal. “So you saw her and offered to put her honor before yours, of course.”

  “Of course,” Joyzal answered, sounding annoyed she’d even asked. “I kneeled before her and spoke the appropriate offering as was expected of a warrior, and…she offered me her hand.” There was clear pride in his voice. He turned and met Jacole’s gaze, his eyes turning dark with passion. Her stomach swooped. Dear God, this man was hot. She was putty in his hands.

  Melachine gasped again and looked back at Jacole, her hand at her neck, her eyes wet. “You did? You offered my son your hand for mating compatibility?”

  “Yes…” Jacole answered. Shit, this offering of the hand thing had been big-time, hadn’t it? She’d had no idea when she put her hand out to help him up it had actually been a whole huge thing in Xylan mating rituals. She really needed to learn Xylan etiquette, fast. At this rate of failure, she’d be accidentally starting wars before she knew it. “To be truthful, because I’m human I had no idea when I offered him my hand that I was doing this testing for mating compatibility thing. I thought I was being nice and helping him off the floor. It is a human custom to offer a helping hand. It had nothing to do with mating.”

  Melachine looked both confused and worried. “Joyzal, what does this mean?”

  “She’s human. They do not mate like Xylans do. They can have many mates in one lifetime,” Joyzal growled, clearly angry at this thought.

  “What? More than one mate?”

  Oh fuck, not this again. “Humans marry. We can commit and have only one mate. But if the mate dies, or the mating turns wrong, we can have another mate. Also, we can test out many mates, um, before finding the right one.”

  Melachine was quiet, her mouth open. Jacole had managed to shock her possible future mother-in-law. Great.

  “Listen, it all worked out in the end though. I don’t mind that I’m here with Joyzal,” she told the both of them. “I’m happy that we’re spending time together and testing this mating thing.” How did she put this nicely in front of his mother and not admit they were busy having ferocious jungle sex that would make the ladies at Cosmopolitan magazine blush? And that she loved every goddamn minute of time she’d spent with this woman’s son? “We’re getting to know each other.”

  Melachine narrowed her eyes. “Is my son Joyzal your one true mate?”

  Shit, shit, shit! Now she was being put on the spot. Jacole looked at Joyzal and then back at his mother. Both were staring at her, waiting for her answer. She swallowed. Yes, she could lie. That would be the easy thing to do in this situation, tell them what they both wanted to hear. But she wasn’t a liar, and she wouldn’t start now. She’d always been a big believer in telling the unvarnished truth in any situation. She felt she owed that to people. Honesty always came first, no matter how painful. She took a deep breath and admitted the fear that was darkening her heart. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m happy to be here with Joyzal. I’m happy we’re spending time together. I don’t want that to stop. I’m just—” she forced herself to speak the truth, “—not sure if it’s forever.”

  Joyzal stiffened. Pain flashed in his eyes.

  She felt like crap. “We’ve only just met,” she answered softly.

  Melachine whimpered. “Not sure?”

  Joyzal strode toward the screen. “Mother, we will talk again later.”

  “Joyzal, you must do your best to convince her—”

  “I will,” he said, cutting her off with a swipe of his hand on the red circle next to the screen.

  He strode forward with a determined look on his hard face. Oh hell. Jacole shuffled back a few steps and connected with the unforgiving wall of the bridge. Her seven-foot-tall, badass alien Bounty Hunter husband pressed his body fully against hers and planted his palms on the wall on either side of her head. Holy shit, he was imposing. Her heart beat furiously, like it was about to tear out of her chest, her breath rapid and shallow. He bent forward, his nose almost touching hers.

  She was able to look deep into his furious eyes as he spoke.

  “Our mating is real. I have claimed you. You accepted my claim.”

  She clenched her jaw. He was big, bad, and scary, but this didn’t mean he was in charge. No one was in charge of Jacole, except Jacole. “We’re dating, Joyzal. Dating. That’s what humans on Earth do when they first get to know each other.”

  “We are not dating,” he spat, pronouncing it like dah-ting. “You accepted my claim when you chose to run. I set up our mating in the old way, on the holo-deck. You are my Bride.”

  Holy shit, why hadn’t she asked about that? Where was her mind? They’d been running in a forest. Where did she think the forest had come from and why were they there? And then she’d woken up in his bed, just accepting that they weren’t in a forest any longer and were instead on his spaceship. Like that was a freaking everyday occurrence. This man was causing her to lose her mind. Her will was slipping away, and she was just trusting in him. She didn’t even know him. “What does it matter if I ran?”

  “I repeated the words to you, the words of a Xylan mating ceremony, and told you to run, and then you chose to run. I chased you and caught you and—”

  “That was a marriage ceremony? When I ran and you threw me to the ground and we made love, and you think that was our wedding?”

  “Yes.” He looked at her intensely. “Jacole, you are my Bride. I have planted my seed in your womb. You carry my offspring. Last night we not only performed our mating ceremony, we also created the start of our line.”

  She sucked in a breath. “What?”

  “We mated instantly because the rush of mating hormones was too intense. When a warrior and his Bride test for mating compatibility and find themselves a match, they do not always instantly mate. Usually they can wait at least a few days, even a week or a moon cycle,
to join in order to have time to organize their mating banquet. But in cases like ours, where the female is in her breeding cycle, the rush is too strong to deny, and the couple is allowed to mate immediately.”

  She blinked. “I’m pregnant?”

  “Yes, you carry our offspring, the start of our line. This is why my mother was troubled when you said you weren’t sure of forever. She understood that because we’d mated immediately, that means you were in your cycle.”

  “She thinks I’m pregnant?” Jacole squeaked.

  “She knows you’re pregnant.” He frowned. “As I know.”

  She placed a hand over her lower stomach. “How can you know that? We had sex for the first time yesterday. Maybe it didn’t work. I thought having unprotected sex with you was okay because we weren’t even the same species, so I couldn’t get pregnant.” She turned her face away from his.

  “Jacole…?”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “It is the truth. You are carrying the start of our line.” He placed a hand over hers on her lower stomach and dropped his forehead to touch hers.

  She was upset and stunned. No, shocked. Shocked to discover that she’d performed a marriage ceremony out there in that fake forest he’d created and that she was pregnant with this his baby. But standing there, with him pressed close as he told her this news, with his hand and his head touching hers… That warmth that always seemed present when he was near spread across her chest again. Damn him.

  “I’m…I’m just trying to wrap my brain around all of this.” She held on to the fabric of his shirt with both hands, holding on for dear life because she needed something with which to brace herself against the chaos of her new reality. Her life was spinning out of control since the moment the aliens kidnapped her, and it continued to escalate on a daily basis. “Not long ago I was at home, getting packed for training school at Quantico. And the next morning I wake up in a cage on a spaceship about to be sold off as a sex slave, and now I have an alien Bounty Hunter husband who is telling me I’m pregnant with his child. It’s a bit much.”