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 unmated 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 request 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.”
“Of course I did,” she shot back. “Of course I left you, you asshole. I’d never marry a monster like you!”
Daxon suppressed a chuckle. He placed a gloved claw against the fabric of her back. He loved the idea of his female instinctively knowing this male and the one before him were not her mates and her doing everything in her power to avoid these bonding ceremonies. She’d run away from this male and directly onto his own ship. Straight to her true mate.
Darcy of One reached out and grabbed onto his forearm with her bare hand. He glanced down, startled at her touch, and then remembered she was human with little knowledge of the rules of the unmated. He would need to teach her, there was much she needed to learn about the Scales of Xylan Law and the honor code, because her hand was so very, very close right now to his own palm.
Palm to holy palm. This was the ritual that would bind them.
First, he needed to get rid of this idiot. He could tell already this was the type of male that would only listen to strength, threats and force.
“Why are you saying this?” the rich idiot raged. “You entrapped me at the Bridal Tour and despite your outrageous attempts to sexually entice me, I chose you. And I gave you everything. Do you realize how lucky you were? I made you. I was going to marry you in front of the whole planet. How dare you speak to me this way.”
“I trapped you? What the hell are you talking about? I was just standing there in a line-up I didn’t even want to be in. I literally just stood there and glanced at you. You are such a—”
His female opened her mouth to continue but Daxon placed both his claws on her shoulders and pulled her out of the viewing area. “Sit,” he ordered. “I will deal with this.”
She hissed, her eyes sparking fire.
“Trust me,” he said. “Let me finish this.”
She gave him a curt nod and sat heavily in the seat he’d offered.
Daxon turned and marched back to the screen. He braced his feet apart and crossed his arms.
“Who are you?” Rich Idiot demanded, his voice dripping with arrogance.
“I am Daxon of Seven, a Bounty Hunter. I was on a mission to New Earth to acquire my latest target. I have now left in order to return to the Bounty Hunter Sta
tion. You will speak to me from now on. I am assuming responsibility for Darcy of One.”
“What? This makes no sense. Why is my bride on your ship? Did you take her?”
“I did not take Darcy of One from New Earth. And she is not your bride.”
“She is my bride. I found her living in obscurity and declared her the most beautiful woman in the world. I announced she was the lucky winner of my Bridal Tour and she would have the pleasure of marrying me and being my bride. I brought her to Singapore. I made her rich and famous and I was in the midst of giving her the wedding of the century. It was going to be displayed live on all the vid channels. Why would she leave? If you did not take her from my palace, how did she end up on your ship?”
“While Darcy was living in your Palace, she learned that you murder and abuse the women and offspring in your harem. She then refused to enter into an abusive marriage with you, so she ran from the Palace at the only moment she could, when everyone was distracted with preparations for your wedding ceremony. She escaped and chose to hide on my ship because I am Xylan and she knew she’d be safe off-planet with a Xylan warrior.”
“I do not abuse the women in my…I don’t have a…I am not a murderer,” the male sputtered.
“Lies. A woman would only run like that from her intended mate if she thought her life was on the line. The probability of a dangerous mate is an accepted reason for dissolving a compatibility testing or claiming ceremony. This is accepted in the Scales of Xylan Law which trumps human law.”
“The what? What do I care about your laws? Darcy is mine. I found her and I’m marrying her. I demand you return her to me immediately.”
“That isn’t happening. She’s staying on this ship with me.”
“Turn that ship around and bring my bride back!” the idiot screamed, red-faced. “She left me at the altar, shaming me in front of the entire planet. I will not forget or forgive this insult. She will pay for what she’s done to me. And in the end, she will follow through on her marriage vows and her wedding night.”
Daxon's Hostage (Alien Bounty Hunters Book 6) Page 5