by Lynn Best
Nothing? She wanted to protest, but Drake stalked toward her. Cowering, she tried to grow smaller as he towered over her, veins on his neck pulsing. “I hope you have more to offer than a nice set of tits.”
Brandy covered her bosom with her arms. She’d faced lots of angry, intimidating men in her previous line of work. She knew the best thing to do was not to make them any angrier than they already were. The testosterone would wear out eventually. She stared at him with doe eyes. “I’m good for a lot of things.”
He snorted, but she could tell he found her attractive. When he stepped closer, he trailed a hand down her neck. “I bet you are.”
“Drake,” Wrek said. “Don’t you think we should deal with the issue at hand? They seem to be charging weapons as we speak.” Wrek gestured to the screen and Han’s ship sitting patiently in the dark expanse of sky.
Drake moved away from her, adjusting his pants. His physical reaction to her closeness was apparent.
“Take us out. I need time to think.”
“Where to?” Tork asked, his hand on a section of wall that pulsed with light and symbols.
“I don’t care, just get us out of here.”
Tork began tapping the panel.
They were going to leave. Panic tightened its grip on her. “No, wait. Let’s talk to Han. I’m sure he’ll listen to your demands.”
“No more whining,” Drake said, watching Han’s ship grow smaller in the distance.
Their ship shot forward. Brandy lurched, nearly tumbling as the stars blurred to smears on either side of the screen. She dropped to her knees, feeling like she might be sick. A hand on her arm made her lift her head. Drake leaned over her, grinning.
“Come on, gorgeous. Let’s make you more comfortable.”
“Wait. I’m sure we can come up with a deal,” she said, her mind reeling. “Charis is my best friend. Han will listen.”
He pulled her up like a rag doll and began to lead her out of the room.
“The idea was to steal Han’s heir and keep him from inheriting his kingdom—to throw the whole system into chaos to give us the upper hand.” Drake’s gaze shifted to her. “Though I have no idea why I’m telling you that.”
Brandy got the impression Drake was playing at being a bad guy without actually being one, though she couldn’t be sure.
She tried more negotiation tactics. Being an escort on Earth had taught her to haggle with the best of them. “Why don’t you send me back, and I can talk to Charis and Han for you? What is it you want? World peace? A seat at the table? Money?”
“I want Han dead,” Drake said, his face serious.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “I can’t promise that, but maybe we can think of secondary wants. What’s on your B list?”
Drake yanked on her arm, starting to drag her to the door again.
Digging in her heels, she said, “Wait. Okay, how about this? Han has a mate. You all need a mate, right? Just like Han, you can’t procreate without a human female. And I’m a human female.” She smiled, putting a hand on her hip to show off her assets after snatching away from him.
Drake’s eyes roved over her. “You’d willingly mate with us?”
“All of you?” she asked, uncertainty grabbing her. She wasn’t sure what she’d gotten herself into.
Drake raised an eyebrow at Tork and Wrek. Wrek seemed keen on the idea. Tork kept his cool, not giving away his thoughts.
“If you mate with us and help produce an heir, it would solidify our position in the hierarchy,” Drake said, mulling it over. “But if you refuse, or you cannot produce an heir, we will not only take Han’s child, but we will kill your best friend Charis as well.”
“Now hold on. We don’t need to drag Charis into this.”
“No, this sounds like a great plan. One we can start right now.” He grabbed her arm again, heat flaring in his eyes.
“Drake, wait. Let’s think this through.”
Tork and Wrek watched as she was manhandled from the room. Her eyes darted around, searching for help that wouldn’t come. She was completely on her own and at the mercy of these animals.
Abducted twice over. FML.
Drake dragged her down the hallway that glowed with the same purplish black as the other parts of the ship. And she wasn’t surprised when he stopped and placed his hand on the wall, causing it to disintegrate. He shoved her inside with a very firm hand on her bicep.
The room was small and bare, cell-like in nature. He forced her down until she was sitting on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared up at him.
“I’ve got business to attend to now, but I’ll be back later. You can show me all the things you are good for.”
She was too stunned to do anything. He stalked out of the room, making the wall close behind him.
As soon as he was gone, she was up, touching all the surfaces, willing the organisms inside to open and let her out. Either they functioned differently than on Han’s ship, or they’d locked out her DNA from accessing the system. It didn’t take her long to figure out there was no way out.
She sat down, gripping her knees again. Her little plan to manipulate Drake had backfired. Now if she didn’t mate with all three of the brothers and get pregnant by one of them, they would hurt Charis. She couldn’t let anything happen to her best friend, but she’d also sworn to herself when she left prostitution that she’d never again let a man make her do anything she didn’t want to again. Apparently, that promise was about to be broken three times over.
Unless she could get out. Or Han would rescue her.
Han would rescue her, right? She’d been with him alone only once, and it was an awkward encounter. Han had known he was supposed to try to procreate with Brandy, but in the end, he’d given up and left to read poetry. She’d had better success with Kahn and Rahan, but neither had been able to produce an heir and had lost interest in her. She was not adequate. A toy they’d become bored with.
So, what would happen to her once these men found out she couldn’t get pregnant? And would Han risk everything for a broken toy?
Charis would insist on Brandy’s rescue if she knew about the abduction. But her friend had been very ill. Would Han even tell her? He might not want to worry her in her fragile state. Maybe they would just decide Brandy wasn’t worth the trouble and let Drake have her. That was more depressing than the last soggy crab leg at a buffet.
To keep her spirits up, she began reciting lines from her favorite movies. She ran through the rescue scene of The Princess Bride—Inconceivable!—and the end of The Sound of Music. She quietly sang songs from The Little Mermaid, Phantom of the Opera, and Wicked. Her mom had been a huge theater buff, having once been a B-movie actress turned porn star. In fact, that was how Brandy was born—a birth control failure during a porn shoot. What a way to be conceived, with her mother double penetrated while faking an orgasm as the camera rolled and a crew watched. Country music singers should write songs about her life. Nothing more tragic than that for an opening scene.
Not that her childhood was all bad. She got to meet people. Travel. Her mom didn’t quit the business when Brandy was born, but giving birth had changed her body and her chance at stardom. Instead, she’d began directing her own porn films. Brandy was not allowed on set, but she did spend time in the green rooms, talking to adults in bathrobes who gave her chocolates and let her ride in their expensive cars. For many years, Brandy thought her mom, and later, her stepdad, made movies people could go see in the theaters. It wasn’t until she was nine and stumbled onto a shoot that she realized what those nice people in bathrobes really did for a living.
Brandy had no idea how much time had passed when the outer wall began to disintegrate again. She stood, trying to ready herself for anything. Wrek entered with a tray of food.
“I thought you might be hungry.” He didn’t bother to do more than glance at her as she took the tray.
“I am. Thank you.” She inspected the contents—a meat that resembled chicken, something
brown that seemed like it could be gravy, and a cup of water. Either their food simulator was not as good as Han’s or they were giving her subpar items on purpose. She would not complain. Not if wooing these men was the key to hers and Charis’s safety. “This is really nice. Thank you, Wrek.”
His eyes fluttered. They were a strange shade of purple, almost lavender. There were other tweaks to his appearance, too. He wore leather and black like the rest of them, but his tattoos resembled science equations rather than the tribal swirls Drake sported. Wrek’s hair was longer, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. He kept tucking strands back in a nervous tick that seemed to increase the closer he got to her. His glance kept landing on her and then bouncing away as if he were afraid.
The quiet, nerdy type. Brandy knew what this kind of guy liked, just as she had Drake’s number.
She set the tray down on the floor, got up, and moved toward Wrek. Closing the gap between them, she tossed her blond hair and licked her lips. “I appreciate what you said about me before. That I was the most beautiful woman on Han’s ship.”
Wrek gulped, hands smoothing hair back that hadn’t moved. “If I was more accurate, I would have said, ‘In my estimation, she is the most beautiful.’ Beauty is subjective and therefore non-quantifiable.”
Brandy smiled. “It’s enough that you thought I was the most beautiful.” She walked fingers up his chest, letting one hand rest on his broad shoulder. He may have been a nerd in spirit, but his body was not; it was broad and well-defined. She licked her lips again, tilting her head so her hair fell away and he could see the expanse of her bare neck.
He watched her intently. His body was stiff as if he was holding back from reaching for her. But she could tell by his breathing that what she was doing was working.
“Are you on break? Do you have a minute?” She puckered her lips slightly, leaning until the tips of her breasts were touching his chest.
“I… uh… I have to get back soon. Drake says he’s first.”
“Drake is first? That doesn’t seem fair. How soon do you need to get back?” She let her hand move from his shoulder to cup his neck.
“In a few minutes?” The rise in his pants now pressed against her. He was putty in her hands. If only she could win him over to her side, she might not need to bother with the others. He might offer to drive her off the ship himself.
She wrapped her other hand around his neck, standing on her tiptoes until their faces were nearly level. Her body was now up against his tight enough she could feel the thundering of his heart. His breath smelled of peppermint. A dimple in the center of his chin made him adorable. His eyes kept darting to her lips, her breasts, and then back up to the ceiling as his heart sped up.
In a seductive, throaty voice, she murmured, “There’s a lot we could do in a few minutes.”
When she felt his hands slide along her hips to rest on her butt, she knew she’d won.
He pulled her to him, bending awkwardly to place his lips on hers.
She was expecting a sloppy kiss, full of urgency and over-excitement. What she got was a welcome surprise. His kiss was soft at first, but it quickly hardened. Good pressure and tongue placement. She’d kissed lots of guys. Maybe hundreds. His wasn’t bad at all.
She felt her own body warming to him. To his scent, which was strong, male, and intoxicating. And to his touch that was the exact right amount of demanding, showing how much he wanted her without being desperate. His tongue pushed between her lips, licking, exploring, while his hands squeezed her backside. He pressed her closer until she was against his erection. The huff of breath in her mouth when he moaned was a sign he was enjoying it. One of his hands slid up, tracing the skin of her breast before cupping it.
He stopped kissing her just long enough to trail his hot mouth down her neck. She tilted her head for him, enjoying the pleasure of his lips sending tingles down her skin. His thumb was rubbing the tender nub beneath her shirt and bra, using it like tinder to start a fire.
She’d had no idea how much she would enjoy this kiss with Wrek. It was unexpected and welcome. She hadn’t had a partner since Rahan had left her for Harper, and her body seemed to know it had been too long. Warm wet heat pooled between her thighs. She rubbed them together to help the ache, but it only increased the longing.
His tongue lapped over the skin at the tops of her breast where her shirt stopped. She gripped his back and pulled her closer to him, tilting her head back to pant and moan.
A whirring alerted her to the wall opening. A figure strode in. Before she knew it, Wrek was yanked away.
Brandy stumbled forward before righting herself. A furious Drake held Wrek by the arm.
“What in the hell are you doing? I send you in to give her food, and this is what I find you doing?”
“I… uh… I just…”
“Enough!” Drake hollered. “I told you I was first. What did she say to get you to disobey me? She probably has your access codes already.”
“No,” Wrek answered emphatically. “I would never do that.”
“Right. Great set of tits and she lets you touch ‘em. You probably procured her a shuttle, too.”
“I didn’t.” Wrek swung his gaze to Brandy as if confused.
“She’s playing you, brother. Don’t you see you are the easiest mark? Like she actually wants to have sex with you…” He sneered. “Come on. Think with your head, not your dick.”
Wrek stared accusingly at Brandy. He looked so hurt she almost felt bad.
“It’s not true,” she said.
Drake laughed. “A good liar. I like this chick.” None too gently, he shoved Wrek out of the room. “Leave her alone until I’m done with her,” he ordered. “One blowjob and she’ll have you taking her back to Han in a rowboat.”
Appearing dejected, Wrek shuffled away. Drake stayed in the doorway, studying her. “Clever girl. I’ll be back to see you later.”
Brandy stuck her tongue out at him, but he just laughed and closed the wall in her face.
3
She was losing her marbles. She really was.
Having no clock, no connection to the outside world, and no one to talk to, Brandy had started to lose it. Wrek hadn’t been back, and neither had Drake. Food had arrived with a non-verbal beast who set the tray on the floor, sniffed at her, and walked out. She’d even tried to engage him in conversation before he’d left, but he’d growled in her face before retreating.
She’d sang all the songs she knew, recited all the movie lines. She’d even taken to using the leftover food to decorate the walls, drawing flowers and puppies, but since the surface was a purplish-black, it wasn’t noticeable anyway.
Finally, she’d given up and fallen into a fitful sleep with dreams of floating into empty space.
When her cell wall opened again, her eyes fluttered open. Tork was leaning over her.
“Captivity does not become you,” he stated.
“What do you care?” she asked, sitting up.
He made a face that let her know he certainly did not care.
Tork was not the type to seduce. He was the type to avoid. Tall and handsome like they all were, his face held an intensity the others seemed unable to master. His scowl could shoot ice into the souls of the toughest humans, but it was his sneer, as shifty as a hyena’s, that Brandy really feared. He turned it on her now, his eyes tracing her curves like most males did when they saw her. She shivered and crossed her arms over her body protectively.
Leaning on the wall, he pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette and lit it with a human lighter.
Brandy raised her eyebrows. “I’ve never seen a Cartharian smoke before.”
He took a drag and blew the smoke out. “Human pot is nothing compared to what we grow. You want a toke?”
She shook her head.
He chuckled and took another drag.
“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly.
“Boss man says you need stimulus. The scanners indicate you are in
distress. He doesn’t want his new toy upset.” He adopted a mock-scientific tone that sounded a lot like Wrek before continuing. “I’m your chaperone. Going to take you for a walk, puppy.”
“Take me for a walk?” She wanted to refuse this smug bastard, but she was going crazy. And maybe if she were out, she could figure out a way off this ship. “Fine. Where to?”
He took a step back, the cigarette pinched between his lips, and gestured for her to exit. Brandy didn’t wait. She hurried out of the room.
“Don’t think about running,” he said. “I have a stun feature on this thing I’ve been dying to try out.” He waggled one of those dark cylindrical wands in his hand.
“Where else would I rather be?” It was her turn to sneer.
“Exactly.” He took another hit of his smoke before stubbing it out beneath his boot. “This way.”
She walked beside him down the hall, feeling nervous and lightheaded. It must have been a contact buzz from whatever Tork was smoking that made her mind feel fuzzy and her limbs weak. Shaking her head a few times, she was able to gain control of most of her senses. Whatever effect it had on Tork, she could not discern anything different from his behavior. He sauntered like he owned the place. His black T-shirt, fitted snuggly to his arms and chest, flexed and relaxed as his arms swung. And his boots clomped loudly on the floor. He had the habit of pushing his dark hair back, though it would always fall forward again. The wavy locks were wild in a way that most girls would find incredibly sexy. Brandy knew better. She’d dated all kinds of guys like Tork. She knew they spent a lot of time trying to seem as if they didn’t give a shit when they cared a whole hell of a lot.
He stopped in front of a wall and pressed his hand to it, turning to her instead of watching it disintegrate. “What’s your name again?”
“Brandy.”
“From the song. Brandy, she’s a fine girl?” His half-lidded eyes watched her in amusement.
“Something like that,” she said tersely.
“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckled at his own joke and then waited for her to enter.
