Dragon Men do it Better

by Mina Carter

  Its saliva dripped as it moved closer. Onto her boot…great.

  “Shit…shit.”

  It wasn’t alone. Flicking her gaze from the pod in front, she noticed more than a dozen, and all of them had opened and were swaying in her direction.

  Jenna was screwed…big time.

  For the second time in less than an hour her meaningless life flashed through her mind. As one of the pods lunged, she did what any girl would do when faced with a plant with teeth.

  She screamed…

  3

  The scream split the air as Ranaar hit the edge of the grove. Shit. Was he too late? The lizard warrior increased his speed, using his back claws to dig into the soft loam and give him purchase as he ran. The plants around him stirred, sensing live meat, but before they could get a bead on him, he was already past them, leaving their fangs snapping at the empty air.

  He chuckled and would have flicked an offensive gesture back their way but he was too concerned with getting to the crashed ship billowing smoke into the atmosphere. He had to get there in time. He told himself it was more to do with the technology and nothing to do with the fact there might be crew still alive. He didn’t need anyone, but it would be nice to have a conversation.

  Another scream tore through the air as he burst through the last of the leaves around the ship. It had gouged a deep furrow in the grove, broken vines and plants lying scattered around the hull. His head whipped around to locate the source of the screams. The plants had a tiny female pinned up against the side of the hull, their petals pulled back as they prepared to feed.

  A roar of fury escaped his lips and he launched himself forward. Getting between the female and the plants, he lashed out with his claws, shredding and slicing petals and stems in a flurry of movement. The plants screamed, whipping at them with fronds , but he was too quick for them to land a blow.

  Finally, there were no more plants around them. He whipped his head from side to side, checking the devastation at their feet to make sure none of the fuckers were still alive. Even a dying one had a bad enough bite to take a foot off.

  “Come on,” he growled, whirling around to the female and bending to haul her up over his shoulder. “We have to get out of here before they come back.”

  The pounding against his back and ass started immediately, along with muffled screaming, but that didn’t stop him from leaping past the battered ship and running along a well-worn path. The sound of rustling told him that the whole grove had been awakened. Only he wouldn’t be around to see it if the female would stop hitting him.

  “Fuck’s sake, female,” he hissed, digging deeply for more speed. “Stay still unless you want to die!”

  The word die seemed to have an instantaneous effect on her, making her freeze in his arms. Not a word came from her lips as they made their escape, the plant life snapping at his heels. The quiet that fell, with only the sound of his bare feet hitting the ground, was a hell of a lot more pleasant than her constant screaming. Although the small hands that held on to his back felt surprisingly good. Instead of fighting him she now gripped him, a whoosh of air erupting from her every time he vaulted over a fallen tree. For one so small, she had strength in that grip. She also had not fainted, which again surprised him. This female was intriguing.

  Free of the grove, he slowed down a little, keeping all his senses alert just in case he hadn’t spotted an outlier from the carnivorous plant group. They sent runners out often to try and establish new groves, so he never knew when a new one would crop up. Trying to bite his scaly ass got them roasted on the spot, but the female he carried was soft skinned and vulnerable. She would be easy prey for them.

  Nothing rustled in the undergrowth so he slowed down a little, careful not to jostle the little female on his shoulder. Who was she? Where had she come from?

  * * *

  Jenna had always wondered what it would be like to be carried off over the shoulder of a male. The way they told it in those romance books she had downloaded always made it sound so…so less bloody painful. They didn’t explain about being thrown around like a sack of potatoes or being jostled and bounced around to the point where she swore her upchuck reflex was going to make a spectacular show.

  Don’t get her wrong, he had shown up right in the nick of time. The last thing she wanted on top of an already shitty day was being devoured by a bloody plant.

  She was grateful until he had gone caveman and manhandled her. Didn’t that just boil her piss.

  Yet when he had shouted, her usual bitchy attitude had died away and she had done the one thing most people failed to get her to do. She had shut up.

  What the hell was that about? Jenna snorted as she lay draped over the male’s back. And what a back it was. Muscle, muscle and more muscle ripped and flexed, the guy was stacked. Well, from the back. He had some wicked looking scars too, she’d caught a glimpse of them on his chest, all puckered and raised.

  Jenna had a thing for muscles, but the scars not so much. They managed to do the opposite, in fact. They scared the shit out of her, reminding her of pain and anguish.

  She felt him slow and watched his ass flex as he finally stopped. Yet he didn’t put her down.

  He stood for so long on the top of a small rise that she wondered if he’d gone to sleep standing up or something. When she was just about to poke him in the ass to see if he was dead, he sighed and dropped her to her feet. She was so surprised she stumbled. Then she got it together and stumbled back, her ass hitting an outcrop of rock. Normally, she’d have hightailed it the fuck out of Dodge, but with those asshole plants out there, she didn’t dare. If the plant life could do that, who knew what the animals were like. No, her best chance of staying alive was with him.

  So she backed up and got her first good look at him.

  Wowzas!

  Jenna had never been shy. Her mouth had always had the ability to go a mile a minute and she usually said whatever popped into her head with zero filter. Yet now, she was lost for words.

  Mr. Caveman was hot—not in your “pretty boy. I look good. Look at me” way—but more a “I want to do naughty dirty things to you and you will enjoy it” way.

  At well over six feet in height, he dwarfed her, causing her to tilt her head up just to get a good peek. His skin was a golden tan and there was a hell of a lot of it on show. His front was just as muscled as his back—solid pecs, eight-pack abs, and that oh-so-famous Adonis belt that had the ability to make Jenna go weak at the knees. His snort snapped her gaze up to his face, and Jenna felt her right ovary contract and almost pop.

  Hot damn, blue eyes gazed at her from a rugged face. A sharp nose and full lips were all topped off with a small amount of scruff, which wouldn’t you know just upped his hotness level to scorching.

  Jenna watched as he folded his huge, toned and muscled arms across his bare chest. He was wearing what looked to be a flight suit, but only the lower half remained. She was drawn to each pull and flex before he growled at her, the sound so deep it vibrated through her and risked the popping of the left ovary.

  Shit, who was this guy?

  As she watched him, he watched her. His sharp gaze assessing her in exactly the same way.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “How did you get here?”

  Jenna tilted her head as his gravelly voice washed over her, causing goosebumps to erupt and the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. He was hot, very hot, but the unmistakable air of danger that oozed from him kept Jenna on edge. His flight suit reminded her of some she had seen worn by military personnel. Only his was different. That coupled with both his size and speed, she would bet her ass he was special forces.

  He growled again at her, reminding Jenna he had asked a question.

  “Errrr isn’t that obvious? A ship brought me here.” She skipped over the introductions. If he was special forces, he didn’t need to know who she was.

  His eyebrow winged up so far she was surprised it didn’t disappear into his hairline. “No shit,” h
e bit out and she caught the edge of frustration in his voice. “This system. How did you find this system?”

  4

  He hadn’t moved a muscle but she wasn’t fooled. A guy like this, he’d move when he was ready and she wouldn’t see him coming. A shiver rolled down her spine. For all that, she didn’t feel threatened. Instead… she felt safe.

  Jenna folded her own arms across her chest, “Blame the arborian rat that trashed my console and then blame the black hole that sucked me up and spat me out. Trust me. I’m not here for a holiday. And how are you speaking English and not alien?” she threw back.

  She hated getting questioned. It felt too much like an interrogation. Although being interrogated by Mr. tall, dark and built like a brick shit house wasn’t the worst thing to happen.

  God she had turned into a perv. He didn’t say anything else, just looked at her, his gaze intense and unnerving. So Jenna left her rocky perch and walked about the small clearing he had brought them too. The view once again reminded her of Earth and a sharp pang of homesickness hit her deep down, swirling before she managed to push it aside.

  “Translation matrix, obviously. Don’t tell me your species are so primitive you don’t have them?”

  Twirling around Jenna walked toward the male, ignoring that question. Better to be proactive than reactive, as a buddy always said.

  “So, handsome, what’s the plan?”

  He was still watching her, heavily muscled arms—ohmigodthosearms—still crossed over his chest. Then he sniffed the air and his eyes narrowed.

  “What are you?”

  Her jaw dropped. Not who are you, but what are you? Had he actually sniffed the bloody air?

  Jenna frowned and lifted her arm slightly. Turning her head, she sniffed. Nope she didn’t stink that bad…she hoped.

  “Rude,” she answered and refused to look at him, instead gazing around and trying to get a feel for the place as well as looking out for any plant life with teeth. Jenna let the shudder fall its way down her spine at the thought.

  Where the hell was she that the plant life needed teeth?

  “Name’s Jenna,” she called over her shoulder, her gaze skipping deliberately over his arms. Holy crap those biceps were HUGE.

  He moved. One moment he was all the way over there and the next he was crowding her, that big body almost pressed up close and personal against her back. On a spur on the edge of the rise, she had nowhere to go, other than tumble down to the sharp rocks below. Her startled movement caused stones at her feet to crash down onto them, but he had her before she could fall, a hard arm around her waist.

  Then his nose was buried in her hair, down the side of her neck, and she squeaked. Froze.

  “You don’t smell Draakon,” he growled, sniffing again. “You smell sweet. Like nothing I’ve ever smelled before.”

  “Whoa, usually a guy buys me a drink first,” Jenna squealed although she couldn’t move. His arm was so tight around her taking a deep breath was near on impossible, yet she didn’t feel in danger.

  The heavy sniffing, though, was a little…unnerving.

  “Of course I don’t smell like a…a… whatever you said! I’m a bloody human. That’s why!” Jenna placed her hands on the arm holding her and attempted to peel the large hand from its place across her belly. Jesus, the hand was the size of a damn shovel. His touch was also doing something. She felt a little hot and out of control, and Jenna preferred being in control.

  He growled. Actually full-on growled. But it wasn’t a dangerous eat you in a bad sort of way and more a dangerous eat you in a good sort of way noise. She was forced to bite back her whimper.

  “Why would I buy you a drink?” he demanded in a low voice. “Is water a prized resource on your planet? You would barter your body for it?”

  “What?” Jenna squeaked and tried again to move, but her attempts were foiled. His arm wouldn’t budge and he seemed to be enjoying having his head buried in her neck. His response to her witty comment meant its meaning had flown straight over his head. She chewed her lip, partially to stop herself from moaning as he ran his nose up and behind her ear. Jesus Christ on a cracker if a nose could make her body wake up and say hello, what else could he do?

  Only she wouldn’t be going there because it appeared he was a total caveman. Come on! Who didn’t know about Talutian vodka? Hell that stuff was lethal but oh so much fun.

  He paused in his olfactory exploration. “Water. On your planet is it so prized that you would pay a high price for it?”

  “Errr,” Jenna was stumped, so instead of answering and getting the poor guy all confused, she smacked the hand that still lay on her belly. When he didn’t move she did it again.

  “Hey!” Smack “You want to…” Smack “let go already!”

  When he still didn’t move or react Jenna tried a different approach—or a more childish one.

  She pinched him… hard.

  “Let me go.”

  He growled again, but this time the sound was not a fun one, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. It was a low, dangerous sound and one that was nowhere near human. His hand tightened around her waist and he pulled her a few steps backward.

  “Don’t do that.”

  Jenna felt the air rush from her lungs as he moved them back, his grip so tight now she would no doubt have bruises. Why couldn’t he just let her go for a minute, let her breathe without his different yet heady scent. Without his damn nose creating havoc on her body. Yet he hadn’t done what she had asked, so in true Jenna style she pinched him again.

  “Let me the fuck go.”

  What was the worst that could happen?

  “You’re scared.”

  Realization colored his deep voice, and the bruising grip around her waist eased up. He didn’t let her go fully, but she could breathe at least. Reaching around, he captured her hand, holding it up so he could see her nails. She caught her breath as he pressed her nail beds, one by one.

  “Where is your natural weaponry?”

  Jenna frowned. Where in god’s name had she landed?

  “I’m not scared,” she snapped. “I just don’t like being manhandled.” Now that was a lie. She actually did, in the right circumstances.

  “Weaponry? Ahh you mean my incredible wit. Well, l only use that in battle.” Jenna rolled her eyes at her own sarcasm. She turned her head to the side, watching as he bent his own to look at her hand. He had scars on his face too, faint and silver. Instead of scaring her, they just added to the appeal.

  “Who are you?” she asked quietly. He still hadn’t given her a name, and for some unknown reason she really, really wanted to know it.

  He held her gaze for long moments before answering. “Ranaar.” His lips quirked as he flicked a glance at the landscape around them. “Lord of this place.”

  His gaze returned to her. “You have no weaponry and no armoring. How did such a soft species develop space flight? How did you survive… well anything?”

  His comment hit home with Jenna and even though he probably didn’t mean it, it felt like an insult and stung. Yes, humans, or Terrans, had become known as the race that was soft and easy to control. Hell, Earth had fallen faster than a whore’s drawers from first contact to the decimation of what was once her home. So yes, she knew they were pathetic but he didn’t need to remind her of it.

  “Can you please let me go,” she repeated and looked out over the view. Men, no matter the species, were all the damn same. Insensitive, arrogant, hot, assholes.

  * * *

  The little female was upset. Ranaar frowned as he realized he didn’t want to let her go. He’d never been blessed with a mate of his own and had never mourned that fact. Until now. He wanted to pull her closer into the shelter of his body to keep her safe, protect her from anything that might cause her harm, exactly as he would for a prized female of his own kind… but knowing she didn’t have the armoring and weaponry like Draakon females made that feeling a thousand times worse.

  But the
sheer need that washed through him rocked him back on his heels. Protecting a Draakon female was a courtesy. They could more than take care of themselves, and any male stupid enough to think otherwise risked getting his face bitten off. Literally. But protecting this female, so soft and delicate? The soul-deep compulsion got worse with each breath he took.

  Slowly, though, he relaxed his hold, letting her go.

  “Don’t go near the edge. It’s unstable,” he warned her in a gruff voice.

  He watched as she stepped away and nodded, her hands rubbing against her soft stomach. His mind drifted elsewhere until she stepped back toward him, her face determined.

  “Listen, sweetheart,” she growled through gritted teeth, the sound pleasing to his ears. The female poked a finger into his hard chest. “Me and you are going to have to have a little chat about your manhandling tendencies.”

  Still he said nothing as he looked down at her. He liked that she was so much smaller than him. The female lifted her hand again, two fingers pointing to her own eyes and then to his.

  “Until then, I’m watching you…you and your wandering paws…claws…err hands.”

  Perhaps they had laser vision or something? Ranaar didn’t think so though, hiding a smile at the little female’s ferocious attitude. To make up for their lack of weaponry maybe? They made themselves loud, their manner aggressive to make predators think twice about taking them on?

  “You can watch me all you like, little female,” he told her, eyeing her carefully.

  She huffed and folded her arms across her chest, her flight suit hugging her curves.

  “Hey, eyes up here,” she growled again.

  She had fire, this female, just like the females back home yet without their arrogance—or actual fire to back it up either. His palms twitched with the need to have her back in his arms.