Captivated: Return to Earth

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by Ashlynn Monroe




  Captivated: Return to Earth

  by

  Ashlynn Monroe

  Captivated: Return to Earth

  Copyright © 2015, Ashlynn Monroe

  ISBN: 9781940744896

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: August 2015

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  Saving her men requires Franny to be their salvation.

  Francesca Dehart has rescued the three men she loves from a hellish mining colony on the Earth-like planet Utopia. Cade, her strong leader, was the first to win her heart. Nebraska burned her with his lust, and Dawson loved her first and hardest.

  Franny’s futuristic world is beyond anything the men expected after their rough, primitive existence. Chicago is a city of progression, but old values still make their living arrangements unacceptable to many. With the media scrutinizing them Franny longs to make the world understand.

  Is the love they’ve found worth the battle and struggle to hold on, or will Franny give up on having her own little piece of utopia?

  Content Warning: contains multiple partners, sexual content, and spanking.

  Dedication

  For the dreamers.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to the staff at Beachwalk Press. I am honored to call Beachwalk the home of these characters as well as many more.

  Author’s Foreword

  So many readers reached out to me because they wanted to know what happened after Franny brought her men to Earth. I felt compelled to write this story. Thank you for reading my work. I hope you enjoy the sexy conclusion to Franny’s captivation with her miners.

  Chapter 1

  Cameras flashed and reporters screamed as Francesca Dehart pushed her way through the crowd at the Virgin Galactic Interplanetary terminal. The three men she’d rescued from Utopia flanked her. Fear for her men made every muscle in her body tense. Cade, Nebraska, and Dawson wore strained looks and they were even paler than usual.

  She and her lovers were the last to disembark from the spacecraft that had just landed in Chicago after collecting them and the other surviving miners from the defunct mining colony. The survivors were third-generation colonists from an Earth-like planet called Utopia. She’d dreamed of this reunion for months, but the media wanted to capture every breath of clean Earth air her men took. Her vocal cries for their rescue had made them celebrities.

  There were more journalist here than there had been people on Utopia. Her captors turned lovers had fought for survival on an abandoned mining colony in a world with much harsher winters than Earth. Living there had made crowds unnerving for her, so she couldn’t imagine what it was like for the men. She’d brought them to her world to save them, but doubt stole her joy. This was too much, too fast.

  The men looked up at the very high, tinted glass and steel ceiling. Another shuttle came in for a landing, and the roar outside and shadow of the great ship’s belly flying overhead was awe inspiring even for someone who’d seen it before. The dignity in the way her men marveled made her proud. She would have acted like a total freak, but they took in the new sights and still remained wild-west tough as hell.

  “Did everyone who lives in your town come here to shout at us?” Nebraska asked as he hurried along next to her. He was a big guy, but kept looking nervously from side to side as the crowd of news-hungry reporters pushed in toward them.

  “These are just some reporters. It’ll be okay,” she assured the stressed man. Telling their story to bring public attention to the miner’s plight had made her three men quasi-celebrities. Franny noticed more than just local, or even national media. International broadcasting had sent people here for this unprecedented landing. These men were the first alien-world born humans on Earth.

  “What’s it like being home? Is it true America enslaved the miners for over a generation?” Hearing the female correspondent’s question made her flinch, because it was a reminder of what she’d been worried about.

  “We ain’t got a home, lady,” Cade replied.

  His response squeezed her heart in a vise. Home. This was her home, but would the men feel comfortable here in Chicago—or Earth for that matter?

  “What will you do now? Do you know where you’ll be staying?” asked the same reporter.

  Franny thought she recognized the woman from a popular morning TV show, so she opened her mouth to answer, but before she could respond a male reporter grabbed her sleeve. He yanked Franny—hard. She almost lost her balance. In panic she lashed out to slap at his hand. He didn’t let go right away. Then Cade was beside her. His scowl made his displeasure crystal clear.

  “Let her go!” Cade shouted. He stood toe-to-toe with the WGN anchor.

  “Come on, it’s okay,” Franny said, trying to de-escalate her very territorial male.

  Franny felt a hand on her shoulder and she gasped, turning. Dawson pulled her away from the wall of newshounds and put his arms around her. An image of what she had to look like next to him flittered across her mind as the cameras angled toward them. She was wearing a low-cut, shimmering, sleeveless blouse. The neckline was a thick collar of knit material. Her tight leggings snapped onto her chunky heel shoes, and her bright auburn hair was twisted in a very stylish, messy bun. She had dark, thick eyeshadow and bright red lips. Her face makeup was pale except for the rouged cheeks. Her look couldn’t have been more 2090’s Chicago hip.

  Flashes made it hard to see. The rabble of voices was disturbing to her. She had no idea how her guys were handling it. When she tried to get a read on their emotions by looking at their faces Dawson and Nebraska were too busy gazing all around at the terminal for her to see anything clearly. Security kept them moving. Cade lagged behind and she couldn’t see him. She wished she’d prepared the boys better. She wished she’d been prepared too. This wasn’t what she’d been promised, but if this was the cost to have them there she’d pay it.

  Dawson wore rugged, dirty flannel and torn denim. He smelled of hard work and masculinity. The scent brought back a host of memories. Some were great, but others still haunted her nightmares. His brown hair was long and tied into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. He gazed at her with his dark brown eyes and such intense longing his need stole her breath. She took his hand, pressing their palms together tight and lacing his fingers with hers.

  “It’ll be okay,” she whispered for Dawson’s ears alone.

  Cade and Nebraska were still behind them. She didn’t like how sick Cade looked. His dark blond hair lacked luster, and his cheeks were hollower than she remembered. He’d almost died on Utopia. He was so thin her first sight of him had made her stomach clench. Nebraska was tall with shaggy black hair, and he was just as beautiful as ever. When he was ready to look for work she was going to suggest modeling.

  The terminal exit loomed from the opposite end of the gauntlet of media. The big glowing Welcome to Chicago sign was lit up. Lights danced around the doorway cheerily. The sun looked supernaturally bright after being in the dim building. She made her way in the direction of freedom, but when terrified screams erupted behind her, she stopped and turned back. The blinding flashes set the scene of the dim interior as a surreal strobe light. Bright snaps flickered from every angle.

  Cade knocked the gr
abby-hands journalist out cold. Raising his chin, he challenged the encroaching crowd to a fight with his rebellious glare. He was very tall and his muscular frame loomed imposing and dangerous as he stared down at the crowd. His gray eyes were unblinking steel. Reporters thrust microphones in his face, screaming questions about Utopia, and fighting to get as close as possible to the front of the crowd.

  “Can Francesca really love all three of you now that your ordeal is over? Did you plan to save her or use her when you bought her from the alien?” shouted the male newsperson who’d managed to get his way past the barricade set up by Virgin Galactic security. The media had filled in the blanks in her story with embarrassing accuracy.

  Her mind played back the moment she knew she was theirs. The moment she’d let herself honestly belong to them on a day she never imagined she’d be rescued or able to rescue them.

  “What’s the matter, darlin’?” Cade asked with concern. “There’s nothing to fear.”

  That was the problem. She was no longer afraid of losing herself, because she’d done it already. “I’ve given up. This is what the rest of my life will be.”

  A darkness entered his expression. “It won’t be so bad,” he replied gruffly. “You make it sound as if we’re hurting you.”

  They hadn’t hurt her, but she hadn’t made the choice to live here. “I just never thought my life would end like this,” she explained.

  “End?” Cade asked angrily. “This isn’t the end of anything except the dark days. You’re alive. I’m sorry if you can’t go back to your fancy job and life, but we’ll give you all we have to offer.”

  “I’m not asking for anything. I just don’t want to be forced to suffer on—”

  “Suffer? I heard you screaming for Dawson this morning, darlin’. That didn’t sound much like sufferin’ to me,” Cade interrupted. She’d never seen him this angry. He was always the levelheaded one. “You can leave at any time and end your suffering.”

  “I don’t want to leave you, but I want to go home.”

  “You can’t have it both ways. You have no idea what real sufferin’ is. Do you think waking up to the sound of you in bed with a man I consider my brother is nice? Do you have any idea how I feel when you smile at one of them? You belong to me in a way you don’t to them, and I can’t enjoy it because I see the way you stop yourself every time you want to touch me outside of bed. I died a million times, and you never noticed.”

  Franny’s stomached clenched, and the quick flutter in her core sent arrows of desire through her.

  “I love you. May God have mercy, but I love you, woman. You quiet my darkest demons and you awaken ones I’ve never known until I held you. Damn it, Franny, you’re torturing me.”

  She was in his arms. He’d made her wish for things that could never be. He’d rekindled dreams of romance she thought she’d buried on Earth. She wanted a husband and children, not an endless orgy.

  A real life was out of reach, but now she’d twisted the three men up in her heart and couldn’t imagine one without the others. There was no turning her back on any of them. She wanted them all. Maybe it’s time for a new dream.

  Cade was kissing her with a desperation that was remarkable for its complete lack of his typical restraint. She felt moisture on his face. Her strong Cade was letting her see how much he hurt.

  Franny turned her head to the side so she could draw a deep breath and speak. He kept kissing her face.

  “You’re the strongest man I know. I’m sorry,” she gasped.

  “Don’t ever be sorry for me, woman. Fuck my pain away,” he whispered in her ear.

  Guards surged in and grabbed the desperate newsman to push him back into the swarm of media as the uniformed workers struggled to hold the rabid assemblage at bay. Cade scowled into the multitude of cameras as he stood in defiance of the mob. The way he menaced them with his hard eyes and grim frown made him appear just as untamed as the public envisioned. He was still dressed in his rough, dirty clothing and his gaunt-from-illness appearance only added to the brutality of his image. This was what they wanted and he was feeding into the mythology of what people thought of the miners from Utopia.

  Nebraska rushed back and grabbed Cade’s arm. “It’s not worth it,” Nebraska shouted over the rabble.

  Cade pulled away from the horde and shrugged off Nebraska’s hold. Franny watched expressions played across Cade’s rugged, handsome face.

  Her breath hitched and her heart pounded. Dawson stood protective and close. He made her feel both adored and exasperated. Her men might’ve come to civilization, but that didn’t mean they were going to be civilized. She should have expected this, or prepared them. She hadn’t and didn’t. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tried to hide the fact her hands were shaking. This was too much for them after all they’d been through.

  The other miners had been hustled away, but it was her men the media loved, because it was their story—at least a PG version of it—she’d told to sway the public to want to rescue them.

  Dawson pulled her tight against his body, using himself as a shield of sorts. “Don’t look at them. Keep moving,” he ordered, and she let him rush her away.

  She was separated from her men as more security swooped in for crowd control. She panicked. The memory of being taken from them was still raw, even after all the time that had passed.

  Franny wept hard, her knees curled up to her chest. Loss weighed on her heavily. How could he give me up like that? He didn’t even try to fight for me. Was he that afraid of the soldiers? He didn’t even let the others try to keep me. I love him. Damn him.

  A female soldier came and knelt down next to her. “It’ll be okay. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “That’s just it,” Franny said. “They weren’t hurting me. I love them.”

  The woman looked shocked.

  Franny glared in the face of her surprise and distaste. “I had a man…men that I’m in love with. Please take me back,” Franny pleaded. She reached out her hand and grabbed the front of the woman’s uniform. “Please. Oh God, I can’t go back and leave them there to die!”

  “No one on Earth will blame you for what happened. This wasn’t your fault. You’re weak and ill. We’ll take care of you. No one will hurt you anymore,” said the female military medical officer.

  Franny could see from the kind expression on her face that her intentions were good, but she wouldn’t accept the truth. “They didn’t hurt me. I swear I want to stay with them. They’re my family.”

  “This is so common when a captive is held for a long period of time. You’re safe. You might think they were good to you, but they weren’t good men. You were a prisoner.”

  “I could have left them at any time. I choose them.”

  The woman gave her a sympathetic look. Franny could tell she’d exhausted the soldier’s patience. She had a med kit she was opening. Franny flinched when she saw the needle.

  “We’ll get you home and someone will talk to you. What you’re experiencing is common in abductions. You’ll get through these feelings.”

  Franny didn’t resist as the woman began checking her vital signs. “I’m dead inside, so what does it matter if I have a heartbeat?” Franny muttered.

  There was an opening between the guards and she saw Dawson’s back. Franny pushed forward and caught up. She grabbed Dawson’s hand and exhaled as a surge of relief washed over her. Franny giggled with nervous embarrassment as she let go of him. He gave her a curious look before smiling down at her. She grinned back. They both looked out at the waiting transportation.

  When they stepped out into the bright sun Dawson took a step back. The Chicago heat of Indian summer hit them. The late September day reminded her of July. After being inside with the air conditioning the heavy, humid weather was a shock to the system. He glanced at her and his brow furrowed. There was no humidity on Utopia. Franny took his arm. She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand to look up at him and noticed his chest move as he sucked i
n a deep breath.

  “Don’t worry, it’s not always like this,” she assured him.

  “Heat is good, real good,” he muttered.

  A limo waited, courtesy of Virgin Galactic. The company’s logo was painted all over the vehicle because they wanted to boost lagging tourism to the moon. When she’d first been contacted by the company about the rescue mission she didn’t care what she needed to do or give up for the flight. The government had rejected her pleas, but her story broke enough hearts to get her the offer from the world’s biggest interplanetary travel company.

  The limo driver rushed to open the door, and she and Dawson got inside. The small amount of privacy the tinted windows allowed them was a blessing.

  More reporters waited outside. Cade and Nebraska made their way out of the shuttleport. Security kept the growing crowd away from the car. Nebraska crawled in next. She gazed at his beloved face as he glanced around the interior with curiosity. He had beautiful, strong features, and even the sunless days of Utopia winter couldn’t steal the natural tan pigment of his skin. Then Cade got inside and the driver shut the door. Cade was her heart. She loved them all, but it was Cade she’d loved first and with the fiercest part of her soul.

  Once inside, the men sat in stunned silence. Franny bit her lip and tried to think of what to say. Cade was still scowling.

  “Fuck. You okay?” he asked with an outraged, albeit concerned, tone. He reached out and took her hand.

  The car lurched as they pulled away from the curb and security helped the driver navigate the insistent media. He tightened his grip.

  “Yes. That man didn’t hurt me. He was just trying to get our attention for his story.”

  Dawson grinned and shook his head. “Cade sure as shit showed the boy attention.”

 

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