Daxon pierced a large chunk of juicy dark meat with the tip of a claw and placed it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, then answered, “I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with the fact that I enjoy the way you smell too.”
She blinked. “You do? But…but I’m dirty and my clothes are a mess.”
She reached down and saw that her own meat was cut into perfect itty-bitty pieces while Daxon was slicing up his own rack of…whatever, with his claws. She appreciated his thoughtfulness as she chewed on a square of meat and about had an orgasm over the amazing taste and the way it melted in her mouth.
“I inhaled your scent when I entered my quarters,” he answered, “and initially found you asleep on my bunk. This is why I’m ninety-nine percent certain that you’re my future Bride. Although only through the clasping of hands will we be certain.”
“Oh wow, you can identify your mate just through smell?”
“Yes, Xylan have better vision and sense of smell than humans. But the fact that I can identify my mate through scent alone is something only I was born with. It is a genetic rarity passed down through my line… Are you thirsty?” he asked. He reached across the counter and grabbed a tankard of amber liquid. He poured and handed her a tiny cup. “Try this, it’s Xylan ale. It’s very potent, so I gave you a small amount.”
“Oh, okay, thanks.” She drank the liquid, finding it very refreshing, as if she’d drunk a whole gallon of water. And it tasted delightful, like sweet fruit. A pleasant warmth spread in her belly and all the discomforts of the day seemed to magically wash away.
She was definitely asking for more of that later.
They continued to chat while they ate. He told her more about something called the Scales of Xylan Law, and the Xylan honor code and how there were all kinds of rules for a mating. It was fascinating.
But finally, they both finished their food. Daxon took their dirty plates and left them on the counter, on top of a stack of older dirty dishes. She frowned, deciding she’d clean that whole area up for him tomorrow. First, she needed a good night’s sleep, then she’d be ready to tackle his mess. There was no way she was staying in a room in such disarray. It would drive her crazy.
He stretched and yawned, again exposing those super-sharp fangs. “We need to sleep,” he said with a growly voice.
She stood. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I’m being so rude, I bet you’re really tired. You originally came in here to sleep and found me in your bed and then had to deal with all of that. Why don’t you just show me to my quarters, and I’ll get out of your way. I promise I won’t be any bother during our journey to the Bounty Hunter station.”
“Female, there isn’t a separate quarters for you to stay in or another bunk anywhere on this ship.”
She blinked. “What? You’re kidding.”
“No. There’s only this room and this one bunk on the entire ship and we’re going to have to share it for the entire journey.”
Her hands fisted. “I can’t believe you. You planned this, didn’t you? You’re still trying to cheat on your vow.”
He crooked an eyebrow. “Planned? No. It’s just a fact. This is not cheating. This really is the only bunk on this personal flier.”
She let out a heavy sigh.
“I have to admit the thought of sharing a bunk with my future mate sounds pleasant. It gives my human female the opportunity to do more of this long-term human-style courtship.”
She rolled her eyes. There was no way she was sleeping on the same bunk with him. She’d sleep on the floor before she slept next to him. “Whatever.” And then her frustration began to soften. “I guess I really need to remember that in the end you’re being amazing about the fact that I snuck onto your ship.”
He winked at her. “It’s only because I think you’re my future mate and I want you close. If you were anyone else, you’d be in lockdown stasis for the duration of this trip.”
She grimaced. “Remind me not to make you angry.”
He chuckled. “Remember how I told you this is a small ship? I was serious. There is only this room to use as a combined sleeping quarters and mess hall. And that is the only restroom on the ship. I have a bridge for piloting and communications, a one-unit med bay and a strangely expansive cargo bay. But there is nowhere else for you to sleep.”
She shrugged and glanced at the floor, deciding she needed to start getting ready. She’d need to clear space if she was going to sleep there so he could have the bed. He might think they were sleeping together, but no way. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” she asked.
“No, I don’t mind.”
“And, um, I hate to bother you again, but do you have a clothing fabricator on this ship because it would be great if I could change into something more appropriate to sleep in.”
“This is the lowest grade Hunter ship. There are no extras.”
She bit her lip. “Okay, no clothing fabricator. Um, do you happen to have something I could wear besides this wedding dress and priestess robe?”
He opened a cabinet and took out a black sleeveless tunic exactly like the one he was already wearing and handed it to her. It smelled like him. Her knees weakened. She clutched it to her chest, forcing herself to not openly press it against her nose and inhale, right in front of him. “Thank you.”
He nodded and she went into the restroom, her stiff skirts swishing behind her. She closed the door and glanced around. It was a small space but had all the essentials: a whole-body cleansing unit and mouth/teeth cleaner, a toilet and sink and there was even a wall-unit clothing cleaner. Luckily this area was monitored by cleaning bots, so this space was sparkling clean.
She kicked off her strappy white heels that had suffered so much abuse they were now mainly stained brown. Then she shrugged off the heavy robe and crammed it into the wall-unit and started the cycle. She tried to wiggle out of the cumbersome wedding dress but quickly realized she’d never be able to unbutton the back by herself. Darn it. She let out a huff and glanced toward the door, her heart sinking. She pursed her lips, walked over and opened the door a crack. “Um, Daxon, can you please help me unbutton my dress?”
“Yes,” he answered absently, his voice floating through the portal. “I will help you.”
“Thanks.” She opened the door wider and stepped out into the room. “I just need you to—” She looked at him and gasped. “Daxon, you’re…you’re…”
Naked.
The man was entirely naked. Not a stitch of clothing anywhere. Her eyes darted away, her face flaming.
“What’s wrong, female?” he asked, tossing down the clothing she assumed he’d been about to put on. “Turn around and I will help you.”
She quickly turned and placed her back to him, putting her hands over her hot cheeks. That image of his nakedness was burned into her brain for all eternity. He was magnificent, and she’d caught a glimpse of everything, even his penis. She’d never seen a man’s penis before in real life; even at rest his cock was epic. Her nerves were a jangled mess and her heart raced like crazy. The area between her thighs was a slick mess, as it had been since basically the moment she’d met him. He wasn’t making this non-testing choice any easier for her. “Daxon, you’re naked,” she said with a shaky voice. “I’ll just go back in the restroom and give you a minute to change…”
He stood behind her. “Not necessary. I put the gloves of the unmated back on. You are fine. Stay.”
“It’s not that. You’re…naked. I can’t stay here when you’re like that.”
“Why not?” Then he blew out a disgusted breath. “I continue to forget that your species pleasure mates.”
“Yeah. So?”
He placed his gloved claws on her shoulders and pulled her a step closer to him, then he started on the buttons down her back. She couldn’t see him, but his heat, his nearness, his fabulous smell, was right there messing with her mind and soul. “Xylan don’t care about nakedness as much. We only worry about keeping our claws covered around the unm
ated so that we do not accidentally force testing of compatibility. Only species who pleasure mate avoid nakedness among the unmated.”
“Having you like this, without your clothes on, makes me uncomfortable,” she admitted.
He inhaled. “Hmm. I wouldn’t say you feel uncomfortable. I’ve been able to smell your arousal since we first met. But now it is spiking.”
She closed her eyes and her chin dipped against her chest. Great, now he knew that even though she was verbally denying him, she was very much attracted to him. She couldn’t hide this reaction. Basically, she wished the ground would open and swallow her up. No wonder he was still insisting on the testing.
She dug her nails into her palms, deciding no comment on this was her best answer.
His thick fingers and sharp claws fumbled against the buttons and fabric on her back. “These clasps weren’t made for Xylan claws,” he muttered. “Is this clothing important to you?”
“No, I guess not, but the dress was made specifically for the wedding ceremony I ran away from. I don’t need it anymore, but it was very expensive and many clothing designers and seamstresses spent countless hours making this gown so…”
The top few buttons loosened, then he growled in frustration. “What is this underneath? Why are there more useless layers of fabric on your body?”
“Oh, those are undergarments, don’t worry I can undo that myself you don’t have to—”
He cursed and she heard a rending of fabric and the sound of buttons hitting the floor. She gasped and grabbed the bodice to keep it from falling off and exposing her naked breasts. Cool air brushed against her bare back. “Daxon! The dress is falling off. What did you do?”
He chuckled. “It’s completely open and easy to remove. You’re welcome.”
“But…but…” she sputtered. “You’ve ruined it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said with a smug tone. “You’re never going to wear it again.”
“Ugh,” she huffed and stomped away from him and went straight back into the restroom. She used one hand to hold up the dress and the other to slam the door panel closed behind her and she rested back against the frame, allowing her heart and nerves to settle.
That man had ruined her wedding dress.
She stepped forward and let the whole thing drop in a frothy puddle around her, then she stepped out of it. She didn’t have any emotional attachment to it—the dress was for a wedding that never took place—but still! She took off her undergarments and salvaged what she could. The gorgeous pale pink panties with the pretty bow were still fine. She set them aside to wash. The bra was in tatters. The corset was trash, as were her slips. Boo. She sighed and put that all in a pile on the floor to be incinerated.
Finally, she was naked, free of all the layers of clothing, fabric and fasteners. She did a fist bump in the air. Thank gods. She stepped into the cleansing unit and let it do its job, cleaning off all the sweat and grime from her escape. Afterwards she hit the dryer and fluffed out her long hair, silky and glossy, with a slight wave. It went down past her shoulders and almost to her waist and she just left it to hang free. She used the mouth cleaner too and then she felt fresh and clean.
Then she slipped Daxon’s black tunic over her head and examined the result. Oh no. It wasn’t even decent. There weren’t any sleeves and the arm holes were so large they left enormous amounts of side boob exposed. The deep V in the front cut down almost to her belly button. Basically, all this shirt did was cover her nipples, and not all that well. The hem went to her knees, so there was that, but she was completely naked underneath because her panties were being washed and dried.
She let out a sigh. Well, here would be the true test of the rule about Xylan not feeling passion towards a female who was not their mate. Would he make a move on the half-naked young woman in his bunk he wanted to marry, or would he treat her like a roommate or co-worker he wasn’t interested in sexually? And also, could she sleep in the same room as a fantastically handsome, naked man she was unbearably attracted to and not try and touch him? Especially when she knew he wanted her touch?
She straightened her shoulders and stepped back out into the room. This time Daxon was dressed in sleep pants and another tunic that exposed his bulky arms. And he’d cleared an area on the floor right next to the bunk and had organized bedding there.
“I made a second bed so that we will not sleep together.”
“Thanks. Thank you for getting dressed. I appreciate it. And thank you for making a second bed.”
He gave a curt nod.
She fingered the hem of the tunic she wore. “I’m sorry, this shirt isn’t covering me very well.”
His eyes roamed dispassionately up and down her body, which left her strangely disappointed. “It’s enough,” he said. “You are very…rounded.”
“Rounded?” Was that good or bad?
“Here”—he pointed a claw at her ass—“and here” —he gestured to her breasts. “You are much larger than a Xylan female in these areas. This could be why my tunic fits you wrong because it was not made for rounded humans. But as long as you can sleep in it and feel comfortable, this is all that matters. If you don’t like this you can take it off and sleep without clothing. Xylan often sleep naked, I will not care if this is your choice. As long as we are not sleeping next to each other and I have my gloves on so there is no chance of our hands brushing.”
“No, that’s okay. I won’t be sleeping naked.”
“You are sleeping on the bunk,” he said. “And I’m sleeping on the floor.”
“But…but that’s your bed. I’m the intruder here. I expected you to sleep on your own bunk. I had already planned on making a bed for myself on the floor. I don’t mind sleeping there at all. It looks comfortable.”
His features tightened. “There is no way I’m going to let my future Bride sleep on the floor. It isn’t happening.”
“Oh gosh. Okay.” She could see there was no arguing with him. She walked over and carefully settled into the bedding of his bunk, trying to not expose herself. Finally, she had the sheets up to her chest and her body covered.
Daxon lay down on his own bed. She leaned over and glanced down at the bed and fully realized his space on the floor didn’t look nearly as comfy as the bunk. She almost said something and invited him to sleep with her because they could both fit on the bunk as long as they were pressed together. But…she didn’t trust herself to sleep that close to him and not try and reach for him.
“Good night,” she whispered.
“Good night,” he rumbled.
And then the lights went out and she fell asleep.
7
“Incoming vid message from Gurpreet Singh, location, New Earth,” the ship’s computer pleasantly stated.
Daxon rubbed his eyes and groaned from his makeshift bed on the floor. “Who?”
The computer repeated the message.
“Oh hell. This early? Computer, hold that vid,” he ordered, still having zero idea who was calling and waking him from his much needed sleep.
“Affirmed.”
“Oh no,” his female whimpered from the bunk above. She leaned over, her shiny dark hair sliding pleasantly along the side of her face. Her features were contorted with worry. “No. No. No. Not Gurpreet,” she wailed. “How in the hell did he find me so fast?”
Daxon sat up and rubbed harder at his face, finally remembering he’d heard this name before. “Is this the rich idiot you left at the altar? The one who murders and abuses females and their offspring?”
“Yes.”
“Huh,” he grunted. “I don’t know how he found us, but don’t worry, I will deal with this.”
He stood, ready to leave and crush this lazhul, then out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of his female hungrily gazing at his body. His lips twitched. He’d learned yesterday that his nakedness caused his female’s arousal to spike and today he decided to use this to his advantage. Anything he could do to convince her of the need to reques
t the touch of his hand he considered fair game.
He turned toward her and slowly removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor. Then he tugged his sleep pants off his hips, exposing his dormant cock to her gaze. A whimper escaped from her lips. He could smell her arousal; it hung heavy in the air.
He kicked his pants away, turned and strode to the restroom, naked. “You will come with me to the bridge, but do not be concerned,” he said over his shoulder. “I will take care of this lazhul.” Then he closed the door behind him.
A quarter rotation later Daxon and his female were both dressed and on the bridge and ready to accept the vid call. She was wearing the long robe she’d arrived in, which covered her from her neck to her feet. She’d complained that his tunic wasn’t enough to cover her nakedness and it would be inappropriate for her to be caught on vid like that in front of another human. Her body, with its strangely exaggerated curves, was now covered by the dark fabric but the hood was down and resting on her shoulders so her pleasant human features and her long hair were exposed.
They stood next to each other on the bridge.
“What are we going to say to him?” she asked.
“I am going to tell him you are mine. You are going to stand by my side so this lazhul can see that you are alive and that you are mine, then you will step aside so I can take care of the rest of the conversation.”
She lifted her chin, her eyes flashing with determination. “But I’m not yours,” she remarked. “I’m my own person. I don’t belong to him or to you.”
“He needs to believe I have you and you are mine.”
“But—”
“Computer, accept holo vid on the bridge,” he ordered.
And then the screen popped up before them and there stood a human male of Margol pigment. This male was much shorter and weaker than Daxon, well weaker than basically any Xylan. And his sinister gaze and demeanor held no honor. “Darcy Chopra,” the human male snarled. “What are you doing on a goddamn ship leaving New Earth? We were supposed to be married yesterday! You fucking left me at the altar.”
The Alien Bounty Hunters Complete Series: Books 1-8 Page 63
