by Jaylee Davis
Captivated by the sight of the loveliest creature he’d ever seen, he couldn’t move or breathe for a few seconds. Thinking was impossible. Once he finally recovered his senses, he bent over and offered his hand. Her slim fingers slid seductively across his palm, sending a tantalizing shiver all the way up his arm. The peculiar sensation shot straight to his groin with unexpected results. His semi-erect shaft deflated in an instant, flaccid and useless for anything other than taking a piss. He pulled her to her feet before his natural instincts took over and forced him to take a breath.
She smelled odd, a chemical smell, most likely due to the spotted colors covering her skin. It masked her human scent. Dark brown hair hung loose about her shoulders, the length reaching to her waist. The wavy mane had a distinct flowery aroma, which he thought smelled very nice, but he detected an intriguing scent surrounding her, much fainter and delicate than the others. It captured his interest the most. Before he could step closer, grab her and explore the tempting fragrance more thoroughly, his companions jabbed him in the ribs.
“Release the female! We must hurry and join the other team,” one spacer said.
Irritated by the interruption, Kord turned to him, and snapped, “I know!”
The other one shoved him with a shoulder, urging him to move to the side.
“There’s no time for this,” the male said.
“Stop pushing!” Kord snarled, but he released her hand and shuffled away.
He knew his duty. They were on a mission, and failure wasn’t an option. He simply had to forget about the beautiful female for now. Only the sheer force of his will kept him from turning around just to catch a final glimpse of her.
No matter, he consoled himself. He’d make time to slip away from his comrades at some point so he could find her. Her luscious scent wouldn’t be difficult for him to track. He’d make sure of her safety before the Krell made their move. The very thought of them touching her, capturing her, before he could locate her in the crowd made him break out in a cold sweat. No. The slavers wouldn’t take her. She was his responsibility now, his to protect. He didn’t question why.
Chapter Two
The rest of Pam’s evening went as expected. She and her friends visited several bars as they drank and socialized. They spent much of their time wandering up and down Duval, and downing way too much alcohol. Along the way they collected an impressive number of beads, which Sam proudly wore for them.
Pam kept hoping to catch sight of the handsome barbarian again. So far, they hadn’t crossed paths. She kept looking anyway, refusing to give up. As she searched the crowd, she noticed several groups of tallish men who were painted a dull shade of gray. They wore long, hooded cloaks, red colored contacts and their spiky styled hair was stark white.
Amanda suggested they were probably a group of frat boys who’d shown up dressed as aliens. Pam agreed, but she thought they acted strange by slipping in and out of the crowd as if they were trying to avoid something or someone. A goose-bumpy chill raced up and down her spine when one of the eerie-looking guys stared at her a bit too long. Not wanting to alarm her friends or be accused of being a wimp, Pam urged them to follow her through a gap in the crowd. They scurried single file to thread their way through the narrow opening. Frat guys weren’t the only ones who could disappear into a throng of drunken revelers.
Minutes before midnight, they made their way to Horseface Hattie’s to rest their feet and recharge. The moment Pam entered the bar, a pair of brilliant bronze colored eyes caught her attention. Her barbarian stood near a corner table at the back of the semi-crowded club. His gaze locked on to her.
His companions gathered off to the side, speaking with another man, who looked identical to her barbarian in size. In fact, they were dressed the same. She noticed all the shorter men wore similar outfits—pants and long-sleeved tunic-style tops. The more well-groomed ones sported brown colored clothing. They looked like military types. The others had shaggier, mop-topped haircuts and were dressed in dark blue. All of them looked remarkably alike—brown to black hair, dark eyes and deeply tanned skin. Most were at least six feet tall.
Pam quickly scanned the room while trying to avoid her barbarian’s piercing gaze. Most of the customers were near the front bar closest to the street where it was standing room only. She spied one vacant table in the corner. Amanda must have seen what Pam saw since she headed for it…and him.
Her stomach twisted in knots the closer they came, and she had to force her feet to keep moving. She literally had to command her legs to put one foot in front of the other. Each step made her more and more aware of her physical response. She chanced a quick glance at him. His unwavering stare took her breath away, and she almost stumbled, but a more shocking reaction shook her to the core.
What was wrong with her? She was wet, wetter than she’d ever thought possible, and all because of him. If she didn’t get her body under control, she’d have to use her fake tail to soak up the dampness between her legs before it dribbled down the inside of her thighs. Pam looked away. Get a grip.
She followed Amanda and then slid onto the stool farthest from him while her friend took the middle seat. Sam sat on the stool closest to the man. She kept her eyes averted and tried to ignore his presence by listening to the music blaring from a speaker behind her. Just when she thought she had control of her libido and everything was going to be okay, Sam pulled Amanda away, saying he saw some friends. Pam groaned when she made the mistake of looking up again.
He was still there, staring at her. A heartbeat later, he walked toward her. Captivated by the sight of him, she sat glued to her stool as if paralyzed, unable or unwilling to escape.
He settled his large body onto the spindly stool. It creaked, but miraculously held his weight. He had to weigh close to three hundred pounds. No fat, all muscle as far as she could tell. He reached across the table. Pam instantly dropped her gaze and shuddered as his hand covered hers. The man had the largest hands she’d ever seen and the hottest. Warmth crept up her arm and flowed through her. Almost instantly, she relaxed.
She took out a bit of courage, looked him straight in the eyes and smiled, and said, “Hi there.”
He smiled back, but didn’t speak. At first, she didn’t care. His lips were doing a hell of a lot of talking without him uttering a single word. They were soft-looking, smooth and full, and his expression held a hint of shyness mixed with a large dose of bad boy attitude. He wouldn’t ever have to beg for a woman’s kiss.
Her lips tingled in anticipation, wanting to discover how he would… Oh hell, no. Don’t go there. She decided to try again.
She placed her palm on her bare chest, and said, “My name is Sandra.” She cringed inwardly the second the untruth slipped out. For whatever reason, she felt awful about lying to him. She bought some time to recover by asking, “What’s yours?”
His smile faded as he stared at her. She’d almost given up on him when he jerked the thumb of his free hand to his chest, and said, “Kord.”
“Kord,” she repeated and then lost her train of thought as the giant gave her a broad smile. If he was handsome before, now he was devastating. “Your name is Kord,” she murmured, repeating his name. The awkward exchange left her feeling like a brainless fool.
“Sandra,” he said and pointed at her. His dark brows rose ever so slightly.
A surge of regret washed over her at the sound of his deep sexy voice speaking the fake name. For some strange reason, she wanted to hear him say her real one, but no, she’d made her decision at the beginning of her trip. She couldn’t tell anyone, not even him. Her identity had to remain a secret until she returned home.
Determined to stick to her plan, Pam forced a smile and nodded. “That’s right. I’m Sandra.”
He sucked in a deep breath, and the grip around her hand tightened a fraction.
“Oh!” The heat from his palm seemed to increase in intensity. She tried to hide her shaky nerves with a shy laugh. “Uh, I guess you aren’t from
around here?”
His smile faded to a faint scowl as he shook his head.
“Well, I’m not from here either. I’m from Texas…um, Houston, actually.” A half-truth. She lived in Austin. Damn. The lie expanded, taking on a life of its own. What else could she do? Tell him the truth? Never.
Kord frowned slightly as he asked, “Texas, Houston?”
“Ah, no. It’s Houston, Texas.”
He cocked his head and stared into her eyes, as if he concentrated hard on what she’d told him. It felt as if she were being examined under a microscope. To buy time, she cleared her throat while she fumbled for something else to say.
Desperate, she blurted, “So, where are you from?”
To her relief, his expression softened. He shrugged, almost in an apologetic manner before answering. “Pella.”
“Oh,” she said, acting as if she were familiar with the country or city. Apparently, he was from a place where English was understood at least a little, but his vocabulary seemed limited. It was odd.
“You can understand me?”
He nodded, and the corners of his lips lifted into a sly smile.
“Well, okay then. I don’t mind doing most of the talking. Um, are you thirsty?”
That time she got a head shake out of him. The man had the most incredible eyes she’d ever seen. His irises were the color of oil-rubbed bronze spattered with tiny scattered flecks of gold. Even in her drunken state she could tell he wasn’t wearing contacts. His eyes were actually that color, not fake at all. He blinked, startling her.
Dammit, I’m staring at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.
Pam glanced away, pretending to check on her friends. Unfortunately, her gaze slid sideways, taking in the sight of his broad chest and then his rippling abs. A part of her mind registered that he had a circular design tattooed on the right side of his chest. It decorated about half of one immense pectoral muscle.
Once she realized she gawked at his massively ripped torso, she forced herself to look at the table where his hand rested over her own. He wore leather gauntlets, which covered his forearms from wrist to elbow. They were a nice sexy touch to an already scorching costume. Don’t go there.
If she didn’t stop eye-groping him, she’d burst into flames right there on her stool. As a last resort, she shut her eyes and took a deep breath. A faint musky scent surrounded her, so masculine and thigh-clenching exciting. He smelled good enough to… Oh hell, no. She absolutely had to get a grip on her libido.
Frantic to think of something to say, she asked the first non-sexual thought that popped into her mind. “So, are those guys your friends?” Pam tilted her head and looked toward the group of men standing across the room. In her opinion, they seemed way too curious about what Kord was doing.
He nodded and then to her surprise he chuckled. The sound was unexpected, deep and throaty, and so very sensual. Pam shifted on her stool, praying that when she eventually stood she wouldn’t leave a wet spot. She couldn’t do anything to hide her nipples. They were painfully stiff, and she wasn’t cold at all.
Why had she dressed naked tonight of all nights? The guy turned her on just by holding her hand. She stole a quick glance at him and caught him admiring her breasts.
She crossed her free arm over her chest and laughed nervously. “I’m not used to being undressed like this. It’s just a costume. I wanted to do something daring, and this is what I came up with. I think the artist did a great job. Everyone has been very complimentary, even the women.” Oh no. Now I’m rambling on like some airhead. Please, make it stop, she pleaded with her impaired brain. “Do you like it?” What? Did I just ask him that? I’m brain dead and my mouth isn’t sober enough to realize it.
He nodded with a great deal of eagerness it seemed.
“Okay, look. I’ve had a few drinks, and I think it’s screwing with my mind so don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t usually act this way.”
Like a total boob. Was it getting hotter in the bar? Or was it just her hand heating up?
“Sandra.”
His deep voice had a settling effect on her frayed nerves, helping her gather her wits.
“Kord, I’d like to talk to you, but I don’t know how it’s possible.”
His expression turned thoughtful and then, without warning, he released her hand, stood and crossed over to his friends. Pam overheard some of their conversation. It was a heated discussion about something, which ended abruptly after Kord growled at them.
Pam gasped. Her barbarian had growled like an angry pit bull about to attack. In response, some of the shorter men simply shook their heads and backed away. The others curiously glanced at her. She didn’t know if she should be concerned or not, but as soon as Kord returned and sat, he smiled. That had to be a good sign, right?
He grabbed her hand again before speaking. “Yes.” He nodded. “No.” He shook his head. His smile widened, and he said, “Sandra lovely.” He nodded again. Apparently, his friends had known a few words to share with him.
Whether it was in reaction to his hand or his words, Pam’s insides turned all warm and gushy. It didn’t even matter to her that he hadn’t said her real name.
Ridiculous.
She sighed. “Thank you. Kord very handsome,” she said, unintentionally mimicking his speech pattern. Then raising her free hand high above her head, she added, “And very big and tall.”
He threw his head back and laughed heartily. It was the best sound she’d ever heard, and it put her at ease. A good thing too, since she spied a full set of long, sharp canines, top and bottom, when he laughed. How odd. Was he in a weird tooth-sharpening cult of some kind? If only they could communicate. He seemed to understand everything she said, but he couldn’t respond.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask. For one, where did he come from? Did all his people have long, pointed teeth? Pam cast a quick wary look over at his companions. The one who resembled Kord in size caught her immediate interest, but the tight-lipped giant simply glared back in their direction, giving away no answers.
The rest of her questions were more personal, like why did her barbarian seem to insist on holding her hand? Was he feverish or was his normal body temperature scalding hot? Did his tattoo have a special meaning to him? Did she?
Stop right there. Stranger equals danger, always. Why did her mother’s voice always interrupt at the worst possible time?
“Sandra.”
His voice banished all her questions. She realized he’d shifted position, and she froze. Kord leaned across the table, his very handsome face mere inches away. For an instant, Pam thought he might try to kiss her, but instead he pressed his tanned cheek to hers and then buried his face against her neck just beneath her ear. He took a deep breath, then exhaled, making a soft growly sound, which sent goodtime shivers racing all through her.
The only thing keeping her from melting off the stool was his firm grip on her hand and her own desire to get closer. She strained to lean over the table by a few more inches. A startling jolt of desire shot from her solar plexus and sizzled like wildfire along her nerves.
“Um,” Pam moaned and nuzzled closer, seeking something unknown.
“Kord!”
The harsh deep-throated shout startled both of them, and she drew back in fear. Kord not only jerked away, he released her hand, shoved away from the table and sprang to his feet. An angry snarl erupted from deep in his chest as he stormed toward the other giant man. They faced off, inches apart, and argued.
Although she couldn’t understand what they said, the words sounded menacing, and Kord growled while he spoke. What worried her more was how his large friend didn’t back down one bit. In fact, the other hulking barbarian snarled at Kord with just as much ferocity. Pam feared they were about to come to blows until a dozen or so of their shorter companions formed a tight circle around the two giants. They seemed to have appeared out of the crowd and tried to calm the situation.
*
“Leave, Thoren!”
Kord’s savage growl grew louder as he closed the distance between him and his warrior brother. Instinct drove him to clench his hands into tight fists in preparation. He wasn’t certain about what he was preparing to do, but he was sure of one thing. He’d protect the female at all costs.
“Remember where you are, brother.” Thoren snarled. “We’re here to spy on the slavers.” His voice lowered as Kord drew within inches. “Not to pleasure females.”
“Do not interfere,” Kord threaten with a growl.
“Stay away from the human female!”
“She’s mine!”
“Impossible,” Thoren rumbled, but he took a deep breath. His eyes widened and he made a swift hand gesture before backing away by one step, indicating his willing surrender. “Your scent has changed. There’s no trace of the suppressor drug.”
That revelation and Thoren’s action cooled Kord’s fury in an instant. He relaxed his hands. As he calmed down, he noticed the Tauran males had gathered around. They urged them to settle their disagreement without a fight.
“The humans are looking our way, much too curious,” one of the higher ranking Tauran spacers implored. “The captain will have our heads if the natives discover us.”
A Tauran soldier added, “And the general will help him.”
“You two stop arguing,” a different male ordered.
Kord recognized Lt. Morshant, the Tauran spacer in charge of their mission. The lieutenant had just arrived, and judging from his rapid breathing, he had some urgent news to share. They all gathered around him.
“Two of our scouts positioned at the far end of this roadway have sighted two Krellian transports. As we expected, they emerged from the sea and landed on the beach. The Krell are moving along the street…” Morshant paused to listen to a device inserted in his ear. “There’s much screaming. It seems the human females are immune to the Krell sedation touch. The slavers are firing stun blasts into the crowd and then collecting them. They’re taking some of the males also. We need to follow them. Hurry!” Without further explanation, he turned and bolted for the doorway.
