Stranded

by Victoria Michaels - AKA-Angela Knight

  The man cringed. “We’d have stopped it before you were really hurt.”

  “Yeah?” He jerked a thumb at Alex, who was crowding at his heels, steaming with fury. “What about her? Why’d you pull her into it?”

  “Well, just watching you fight C’kici and varitakor had gotten a little dry. We decided you needed a love interest.”

  “But why kidnap us?” Alex exploded. “Aren’t there people in your own time that would have played your stupid game?”

  Krikor blinked at her. “Oh, we couldn’t use anyone from the present. Not anymore. Everybody’s heard of the Bubble. They all know the rules, so there’s no fear. And if the contestants aren’t afraid, there’s no drama. Besides, you two are…”

  Hawke’s fist slammed into his face before he could finish the sentence. Krikor went down like a sack of cement as the big man threw his sword aside and lunged for his throat.

  Alex flung herself on her lover as he grabbed the man’s skinny neck and began to squeeze. “Hawke, no! Please! Let him go!”

  He threw her a wild-eyed look over his shoulder. “He’s not going to just get away with this!”

  Softly, Alex said, “But Hawke, you can’t do this. Let him go.”

  He looked down at Krikor’s purpling face, his expression twisted with rage. Slowly, the fury faded. He released his hold and straightened off his gasping victim. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I can’t just kill him.”

  “No.” Alex calmly stepped around him, drew back her foot, and rammed her bare heel right into Krikor’s balls. As the skinny little creep curled into a gagging ball, she gave Hawke an angelic smile. “Not until I got in my shot, anyway.”

  His answering grin was savage. “That’s my girl. Let’s…”

  White light exploded over their heads from the glowing hole that had opened in the ceiling of the cave. Alex and Hawke stared up at it in horror. “Oh, sh --”

  They were sucked off their feet before he could finish the curse.

  “–-it!” Hawke spat, just as his booted feet hit the ground in the pitch dark. Gunfire exploded around him. He hit the dirt more by instinct than anything else as the enemy fired wildly, probably reacting to the hole of light that had spit him out.

  Hawke curled instinctively into a ball, his hands over his helmeted head.

  Helmeted?

  In the darkness, his hands explored his body, discovered familiar cloth where he’d been almost naked before. Holy crap, he was wearing his uniform again--apparently the same uniform that had long since been reduced to rags by alien fangs.

  It couldn’t be! And yet, it was. The show’s bastard producers must have somehow duplicated all his gear. Including--Thank you Jesus--his M-16. He pulled the rifle off his shoulder and began firing it in the direction of the enemy. Somebody screamed.

  Everything went quiet.

  “Lieutenant!” Sergeant Ron Jacobs bellowed from somewhere nearby. “Lieutenant, what the hell was that light?”

  Hawke took a deep breath and lied. “I haven’t the faintest idea, Sergeant.”

  The Bastards had returned him to the exact moment he’d left--two full years before they would abduct Alex from her bed. She didn’t even know him yet, much less love him.

  Why should she? He was just the Jarhead son of trailer trash. And she was Alexandria Kenyon, blue-blood Southern Belle.

  Way out of his league.

  Alex yelped as she fell out of the light, hit something soft, and bounced. “Oh, hell. Hawke?”

  She blinked at the moonlight-washed furniture around her, then reached for the crystalline lamp gleaming in the dimness. A moment’s fumbling turned it on.

  Stunned, Alex stared at her surroundings. She was back in her own bed. And . .. She looked down at her chest. She was wearing the same camisole she’d had on when they’d snatched her a month ago.

  It was as if none of it had ever happened.

  A sense of hollow emptiness washed over her. Hawke. God, Hawke. If they’d sent her back to the moment she’d left, they’d sent him back too--straight into the middle of the war in Afghanistan.

  Two years ago.

  Feeling sick, she rolled out of bed. He might be dead now. And even if he wasn’t, how the hell was she going to find him?

  But she had to. Somehow. She loved him, dammit. She wasn’t about to lose him after everything she’d done to keep him alive. She’d fought a monster for him, for God’s sake.

  Think, Alex. What did she know? She knew his name. She knew he was a lieutenant in the Marine Corps. Her father had connections. Surely she could convince him to…

  The doorbell rang.

  Alex shot a glance at the clock. It was the middle of the night. Who would…?

  She was running downstairs before she even had time to complete the thought. Hope swelled in her chest as she skidded to a halt in the foyer, flipped the porch light on and snatched the door open. “Hawke?”

  The tall man on the other side wore a Marine dress uniform and a chest full of ribbons. Her heart skipped in anguish. He’s come to tell me Hawke’s dead… .

  Then Alex registered the hard, handsome face under the shining black bill of his uniform cap. His blond hair was cut so painfully short, she hadn’t even recognized him. “Hawke?” Her voice broke. “Hawke?”

  Then she was in his arms.

  They both started babbling at the same time. “I thought I’d lost you…”

  “Jesus, I’ve been waiting so long…”

  “What have you been…?”

  “I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

  Alex grabbed his strong arms and dragged him inside, banging the door shut. “They just sent me back. How did you know?”

  Hawke studied her face, his gaze fierce and hungry. “You’d told me it was 2004 when they took you. I served out the rest of my tour while I waited until the Corps transferred me back to the states. A month ago I managed to track you down, but I didn’t dare approach you, because I knew you wouldn’t know who I was yet.”

  She closed her eyes, imagining it. “Oh, Hawke.”

  “Then today I went to the ATM, and there was ten million dollars in my bank account that just appeared out of nowhere. I knew it was the prize money. I figured that must mean you were on your way. So I pulled up outside your house and waited until I saw the flash.”

  Alex blinked. “Ten million? Hell of a prize. How are you going to explain it?”

  “According to the bank and a lawyer or two, I’ve developed a rich relative..” A faint smile curled his mouth. “Think Judge Kenyon would mind a wealthy son-in-law--even if he did come from trailer trash?”

  “What?”

  Right there in her foyer, he swept his hat off, dropped to one blue-clad knee on the marble floor, and took her hand. “Alexandria Kenyon, will you marry me?”

  She sucked in a gasp as joyous tears prickled her eyes. “Oh, God, Hawke, do you really have to ask? Yes. Oh, yes.”

  “John.” His gaze searched hers. “My given name is John.”

  The tears swelled hotter. “I love you, John.”

  He grinned. “Even though I’m a dominant asshole?”

  Alex pounced on him, knocking him onto his back. His medals pricked her breasts as she dove in for the kiss. “Since I’m incredibly kinky--oh, yeah.”

  His mouth tasted of mint as his lips moved hungrily against hers. She slid both hands up into his short-cropped hair as his own went to her ass and pulled her astride him. His fingers felt deliciously warm on her spine.

  By the time they both came up for air, Hawke’s eyes were smoky with passion and growing heat. Alex pushed herself up to straddle him and contemplate the best way to get his uniform off.

  Cupping one of her breasts through her camisole, he grinned. “Oh, I remember this. I considered ripping it off you.”

  Starting work on his intricate gold buttons, she narrowed her eyes. “Lieutenant John Hawke, don’t you dare.”

  A big, warm hand slid under the lace hem and went looking for bare fle
sh. “I’m going to have to teach you to read Marine command insignia. I’m a captain now. God, I’ve missed these breasts.”

  She closed her eyes as his clever fingers did wonderful things to a nipple. “And they’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, come on. We’d just made love when the asshole showed up.”

  “You mean you’d just banged me up the backside playing Master Bastard.”

  He winced. “Sorry about that.”

  “No, you’re not. And neither am I.” She managed to drag another button from its buttonhole, exposing a tempting sliver of abdominal muscles. “You Marines sure wear a lot of clothes, Captain.”

  Hawke laughed and reached for one of the hooks holding his tunic neck closed. “Let me help you with that.”

  “Thank you.” She rose off him to stand astride his hips, pulling her camisole over her head. “By the way, I am not making love to you on this cold floor when there’s a perfectly good mattress upstairs. Which doesn’t crackle, rustle or sag, unlike the last one we played on.”

  “Have I mentioned you have the most gorgeous tits I’ve ever seen?”

  “Yeah? Maybe I’ll let you kiss them.” Alex turned with a teasing roll of her ass. “If you can catch me.” She sprinted for the stairs.

  Hawke caught her before she got four more steps. She rode up the stairs across his brawny shoulder.

  Five minutes later they were naked in her bed, and Hawke was demonstrating exactly how much he’d missed her nipples. Each long, wet stroke of his tongue made her squirm, while the big hand exploring between her thighs sent sweet pleasure sizzling through her body.

  For her part, Alex caressed the hard ripples of muscle sheathed in satin skin. Being back in civilization hadn’t made him go soft--in any sense of the word, judging by the warm, thick cock nestled against her hip.

  She wrapped her fingers around it and smiled lazily as he gasped.

  “You’re distracting me,” he protested over her nipple, his free hand gently cupping her other breast.

  “Good.” Alex stroked the length of the bobbing shaft. “I’d hate to think I was losing my touch.”

  “Noo.” His voice sounded distinctly strangled as she brushed her thumb over a bead of pre-cum. “You’re definitely in no danger of that.”

  “Good.” She grinned impishly. “‘Cause, you know, I was getting worried. I mean, you’ve been here thirty whole minutes, and you haven’t tied me up yet.”

  Hawke lifted his head. Smoky gray eyes sizzled over his feral smile. “Are you disappointed?”

  “Who, me?”

  “Alex, love, are we getting bored with foreplay?”

  She wriggled under him. “Well, I am really, really wet…”

  With a low, menacing growl, he reared back onto his haunches between her thighs, grabbed her knees, and spread her wide. She yelped as his thick cock speared into her in one hard thrust.

  Hawke grinned down into her startled eyes. “In that case, it has been an awfully, long…” he drove in all the way to the balls “…long…” pulled out and jammed in again “…long time.”

  Her entire nervous system jolting with each thrust, Alex wrapped her calves around his back. “Tell me about it.”

  As his massive shaft worked in and out of her creamy sex, she grinned happily. One thing’s for sure--Mrs. Alexandria Hawke will never, ever be bored.

  Epilogue

  They were married a year later, after twelve months of living in glorious, engaged sin. Hangin’ Harry gave his daughter away with a proud smile in a church ceremony that was the biggest social event of the year. He hadn’t even flinched when Hawke had told him about his father. To the old man’s credit, his new son-in-law’s status as a war hero seemed to weigh more than the millions he’d won in that mythical lotto.

  He and Virginia were already hinting broadly about their yen for grandchildren.

  Hawke and Alex had every intention of obliging them--and enjoying the process thoroughly.

  Victoria Michaels

  Victoria Michaels lives on the East Coast with her teenage son and handsome husband. She’s a published romance novelist under another pen name, but has assumed the Victoria Michaels name to explore some of her kinkier fantasies.

  * * * * *

  Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of

  Voices Carry

  by Melissa Schroeder

  Coming soon from Loose Id

  Voices Carry

  “Was there a problem with my presentation this morning?” Her voice sounded like a breathy whisper even to her own ears.

  The images bombarding her were breaking her concentration. There was nothing specific, but flashes of her ass figured prominently.

  Images. She hadn’t had image transfers for close to fifteen years. And now, to have the images he was thinking, laying her on his desk…

  He studied her silently, displaying no outward sign of what he was thinking. She shifted in her chair to ease the ache between her legs. Instead, the soft fabric of her suit rubbed against her pussy, heightening her arousal. She shifted again and groaned inwardly. The fabric was damp from her arousal.

  Her mind drifted back to her assumption that John Marrow had been the one thinking about her this morning. She couldn’t believe it had been her supervisor. Marcus Carlyle thought she would taste like sin? Blood rushed to her face.

  “No, Ms. Adams. I didn’t have a problem with your presentation.” His voice, huskier than usual, sent warmth pooling to her groin. “In fact, it was well done. I have a more serious matter to discuss.”

  He keyed his code to his security drawer. It popped open, he pulled out a microfile, and shut the drawer. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her heart. Her skin tingled with arousal and her nipples tightened against the fabric of her suit. She cursed herself for not wearing her breast cups this morning.

  He straightened and handed her the electronic file. Before she could open it, he stopped her with a warning.

  “I have never doubted your loyalty before this moment, but I must have an understanding that everything you read in that is to be confidential. No one in the department can know what you are seeing.”

  She nodded and punched in her security code and selected the report. She clicked on the file. Instantly, it projected above the device. As she read about the breaches of security, her stomach knotted. His comments now made sense.

  “No one else knows about this?”

  “The department heads know to some extent. I’ve tried to keep it quiet.” One corner of his mouth kicked up. “You know I like to filter everything to make sure it doesn’t get out.”

  Yes, and it had been the subject of many of their disagreements in the past. “You trust me with it?”

  “Every report, every little piece of information you’ve uncovered has never been leaked. No matter how small or how big, it never makes it around the office or to the media before I hear about it. So, I trust you. Plus, I also know you wouldn’t spy. It isn’t in your makeup. You feel as strongly as I do about keeping the Federation safe.”

  Warmth filled her at his confidence in her. She read over the report. The breach didn’t follow the usual patterns of the hackers or cyber-terrorists who tended to send viruses and worms to cause disruptions. This was a full scaled attack on some of the department’s most coveted information—the names and locations of their undercover agents, their aliases, and what species they had assumed as their disguises. She glanced up to find him studying the DC skyline as the busy late afternoon traffic whizzed by his twentieth floor window. The sunlight caressed his face, highlighting his chiseled cheekbones and the few gray strands of hair woven within the black.

  From the moment she met him, there was something about him that drew her. His suits were tailored to fit the lean muscled body he gained from serving in the Federation’s air corps. It wasn’t just his looks or his gorgeous body that attracted her. There was an underlying sense of self-control to Marcus Carlyle. No matter how many times they’d argued in the last y
ear and a half, he never lost his temper. She’d never heard him raise his voice no matter how heated the argument.

  He must have sensed her studying him. He turned to face her, his green eyes dark and serious. She shivered as a wave of hunger swept through her. How could a man who irritated the hell out of her, make her want to jump his bones with just a look?

  She cleared her throat. “How much do the department heads know?”

  “They know there has been a small breach. No one, except the spy, knows how much knowledge has been gathered.”

  Her mind jumped from person to person and then skidded to a halt as a good looking, blue-eyed blond came to mind. “You suspect Mr. Marrow?”

  “No, I don’t. He definitely has access, but John isn’t a good liar. There’s a reason he’s been divorced three times. He can be, shall I say, indiscreet when involved with a woman.”

  A smiled tipped his lips and the now familiar zing warmed her blood. She must have given her thoughts away because his smile faded and his eyes heated.

  He cleared his throat. “What I need from you is some overtime, working on some of the transmissions, analyzing data. If we can figure out who wants the information and has the credits to pay for it, we’ll be able to catch the spy.”

  She nodded but said nothing. The air in the room turned warmer, the spicy scent of him filled the air.

  “I want to apologize for what happened earlier,” he said, his voice a shade warmer.

  Flashes of his thoughts sparked through her mind, through her body. The image of his hands, dark tanned hands against her ivory skin, while he spread her legs and bent his head to lick her clit, sent a wave of wet heat to just that spot. Oh, Lord.

  “It’s okay. David tends to be a little overprotective.”

  “He’s older?”

  He expected her to hold a conversation while he was thinking about doing those things to her? Jesus, she could barely breathe.

  “No, I am, but there’s less than a year between us.”