by Shea Malloy
Contents
About
Excerpt
1. Rosie
2. Rosie
3. Garan
4. Rosie
5. Rosie
6. Garan
7. Garan
8. Rosie
9. Rosie
10. Rosie
11. Rosie
12. Garan
Preview: Kozan: Warriors of Fisoar
More by Shea Malloy
Out of this World
Shea Malloy
Copyright © 2016, Shea Malloy
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
About
My name is Rosie Fry and I don't believe in true love. In fact, anyone who believes in it oughta get a laser shot to the groin.
So when some green-headed demon pixie from the Celestial Mates dating agency tries to sell me on this crap about ‘fated mates’, I laugh. Uh, no thanks, lady. Especially not when my fated mate is an arrogant alien dragon shifter and at the top of my shit list.
I don’t give a damn if he’s as hot as the sun’s core, or that his amber eyes of liquid fire makes me melt every time he looks my way, or even that his sizzling touch rockets me outta this world.
I may be trapped on an alien planet with him as my only companion but I will not give in.
I will not fall in love with him.
Never.
Want more Shea Malloy? Join my mailing list!
Excerpt
Daylight spills into the tent’s opening, dappling the floor through the gaps of the sticks. Unlike the chilly night before, warmth surrounds me. Sleep filters from my brain as awareness takes its place.
Garan’s erection pokes my butt and his large hand palms my left breast.
My first reaction is indignation, until I hear him snoring. OK. He’s asleep. His inappropriate touch isn’t intentional.
Or is it?
What if he’s faking it so he could—Oh!
I’m startled when his hand slips and his thumb grazes my nipple. I bite my lips and squeeze my thighs to ward off the heat stirring in my core. I frown, not sure who I’m irritated with the most. Garan, for touching me or myself because I’ve yet to push him away.
I should… but I don’t want to. I can’t deny I’m enjoying his powerful arms holding me against his hard body. His presence makes me feel safe. More so with his arms around me. If I were stranded in this strange place on my own, I’m certain I would have gone insane by now.
When Garan’s hand slides over my breast again, my nipples tighten. Surreptitiously, I lean into the touch. Wait a minute. Have the tables turned? Is it me who’s violating him since he’s asleep and not aware that I’m sorta kinda definitely forcing him to touch me?
I should push his hand away.
But he cups my breast and a soft moan escapes me. I hope he didn’t hear it.
He did.
His erection twitches against my ass and he’s stopped snoring.
Garan retracts his hand and rolls me onto my back. Face hot, I meet his gaze in defiance.
“You should learn to keep your hands to yourself, Dross.”
His eyes are burnt-gold and filled with desire.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
A million fluttery things come alive in my stomach.
Yes, kiss me.
“Try it and you’ll regret it.”
Garan dips his head and kisses me anyway. His mouth on mine sends a bolt of arousal straight between my thighs. His tongue slides past my lower lip to touch mine and for a brief moment, we share the hungriest, hottest kiss I’ve ever experienced. He cups my face, holding my head in place and devours me. Between my legs burn with need for his touch. It’s as if the heat of the suns on this alien planet fell from the sky right on top of us.
1
Rosie
Call me crazy but waking up to a green-haired woman grinning in your face is not the best start to the morning.
“What the f—”
“Greetings, Rosalind Fry! I’ve brought great news! You’ve been matched!”
She claps her hands together and glitter falls from out of nowhere all over my face.
“Ow, ow, ow!” I sit up and spit out glitter, rubbing the rest of it out of my eyes. “Who the hell are you? Get out of my room! Get out of my apartment!”
She doesn’t move, her grin does not waver. Her eyes are wide and sparkling. There’s a disturbing unhinged look lurking in their jade depths.
“I’m Leeka, your matchmaker in love. I’m here to congratulate you on your extraordinary match!” She snaps her fingers together and a translucent tablet appears in her hand.
She attempts to show me the tablet’s screen. I glimpse a man’s face as I bat her hand away and push to my feet. Even though my older brother, Paul, calls me ‘little Fry’ because I’m short, I’ve got at least a head on this pixie.
I muster up the toughest voice I can summon. “Look, lady. Get outta my place right now or I’m calling the Enforcers.”
When she still doesn’t move, I make a run for it. There’s only one distress button in my apartment than the mandated three. As expected when you live in the shittiest quadrant on Zenovas 9. It’s literally the shittiest since Quadrant 4—or Poopapalooza Plaza as Paul calls it—is home base for the garbage dumps and sewer relief from Quadrants 1 to 3. Not to mention, the Overseer of this rust bucket complex is a cheap ass.
The distress button is supposed to be located in a place you won’t accidentally press it. Usually some place inconvenient and hard to get to. Which, in my opinion, defeats the purpose of a distress button in the first place. After all, you only ever need it in moments of emergency. Therefore, the absolute last thing you want to be doing in an emergency is squeezing yourself into your tiny kitchen cupboard for a button tucked under the sink.
Because you know what can happen? You can get yanked out of that cupboard by the back of your shirt by a demon pixie with supernatural strength.
“Eughgh!” comes out of my mouth as the front of my shirt tightens around my throat. My bare thighs squeak against the floor as I’m dragged backward. I put up a fight by squirming and slapping my hands behind me. But, like I said, green-haired girl has some major galactic weight champion strength in her slim arms.
“You’re coming with me!” Leeka shouts just before a bright light envelops us. I scream but I can’t hear myself. For a few moments I’m weightless and can’t see squat. Then I’m falling and I’m screaming, flapping my arms in a futile effort to grab onto something. I’ve always wanted the ability to fly, but this is not what I had in mind! Oh shit, I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die! I’m gonna…
“…diiiieeee—”
“Oh, shut up and stop being so dramatic. You’re already here.”
My eyes spring open. I’m face down and spread-eagled on a black marble floor. It’s so shiny, I can see the extra frizz my auburn hair has acquired and my crazed, terrified reflection staring right back at me.
I snap my head up to find a scowl on Leeka’s face, her arms folded across her chest. I’m about to let loose a ton of expletives at her when a man marches into the room.
What. The. Shit.
It’s Garan Dross
. One of the wealthiest men in the galaxy. Also the creator of the Vis S215 series—the fastest ships in the universe and, grudgingly, my ultimate wet dream made real in sexy, reinforced Rurium steel. Most importantly, he’s at the top of Rosie Fry’s, ‘Aliens I’d Like to Murder In Their Sleep’ Shit List.
Rich and fricking hot as the sun on Venus, Garan Dross is every bipedal female’s—and also those with extra limbs—fantasy come alive. Well, except mine. Especially not after what he did to me. Articles all over the InterGalNet wax poetic on his stunning amber eyes, his gorgeous dark hair streaked with gold and how the small black horns protruding from his forehead not only reminds us of his impressive Rur dragon ancestry, but adds to his dangerous yet sexy charm.
Wanna know what I see whenever I look at his—admittedly handsome—mug? A thieving ass.
His gaze falls on me and instant recognition alights in his amber eyes before he hides it behind a scowl. Huh. After all these years, he still remembers me.
“Your underwear is showing, human, and they’re not particularly flattering,” he says, his tone in sync with his unimpressed features. “How did you get into my quarters?”
Right. Ekran species can’t change the number of tentacles on their bodies as Garan Dross can’t change his assholish ways.
Face flaming, I scramble to my feet and tug on the hem of the shirt I slept in the night before. It barely grazes the tops of my thighs. This is all Leeka’s fault. She’s the reason why I’m standing half-dressed in front of Garan Dross in a ratty shirt and unsexy panties as his piercing gaze judges me and finds me wanting.
“Instead of whining about it, why don’t you find something else to look at?”
I raise my chin and stare him down even though my confidence has already taken a big hit. Who cares what he thinks about me, anyway? I don’t exist in his world and he doesn’t mine. Not anymore. Not after he screwed me over. But I can’t keep it up. I cow and look away, pretending to survey my surroundings.
Everything gleams in this apartment. From the glass walls overlooking the city far below, to the shiny surfaces. A cleaning bot comes by with an efficient whir as it buffs away the smudge my face made on the floor.
“Why am I here?” I demand, glaring between the two of them. Mostly at Leeka, though, because I still don’t have the courage to look directly at Garan after he’s seen my ginormous panties.
“The better question is how you got in here without my alarms going off,” he says, frowning. “But I don’t care enough. You both need to leave. Now.”
“Not yet,” says Leeka in matter of fact tones. She smooths her hands down her front and for the first time I notice her businesslike pantsuit. “As I was trying to say before you interrupted me with your histrionics, Rosalind Fry—I am a representative from the Celestial Mates dating agency, and I’m here to congratulate you on your extraordinary 97.23 percent match with your fated mate…” Her megawatt smile returns in blinding force as she gestures at Garan. “…Garan Dross.”
2
Rosie
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous.”
“I’m not and it isn’t,” replies Leeka in matter-of-fact tones. “You were both entered into our database requesting love matches and I’m happy to say you two are one of our highest match result yet!”
“And I’m happy to say I would never sign up for a dating agency. I’m not desperate.”
“Perhaps you should be if this is the way you’re usually dressed,” says Garan.
I glare at him. “Why don’t you do me and the galaxy a favour and space yourself, asshole?”
“Six years later and your vocabulary hasn’t improved, Fry.” He shakes his head. “I’m unsurprised.”
“Stop it!” Leeka shouts. She closes her eyes and massages her temples as if she’s willing away a headache. “This is not how I planned it,” she mutters. “This is not going to plan at all.” Her eyes snap open. She drops her hands to her hips, her features tight and angry as she regards us both. “You won’t mess this up for me. Neither of you. This is my one thousandth match and, gods help me, it’s going to be successful like the other nine hundred and ninety nine before. So listen to what I have to say!”
She produces two sheets of blue plasti-paper out of nowhere and holds it aloft, white text printed on them.
“This is a list of mandatory activities you must complete to be deemed a successful match,” she says bossily, handing a plasti-paper to Garan and the other to me. I take the plasti-paper reluctantly, my curiosity too strong to ignore.
But as I read down the list, my eyebrows climb higher and higher until they fall rapidly into a scowl.
CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’VE BEEN MATCHED!
As per your request, we’ve scoured countless universes, galaxies and time periods to find your perfect soulmate. Therefore, if you are reading this letter, then we’re 95% sure we’ve done our jobs. However, in the event we’ve made a horrible mistake, we have a foolproof method to ensure the person we’ve chosen is (mostly) the right one for you! Simply complete this list in its entirety and you’ll be on your way to your happily ever after, courtesy of the Celestial Mates dating agency!
COMPLETE THE FOLLOWING IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:
1. Learn something important about your mate.
2. Play a game with your mate.
3. Take a stroll holding your mate’s hand.
4. Give your mate a gift.
5. Make your mate laugh genuinely.
7. Cook a tasty meal for your mate.
8. Enjoy a sensuous embrace with your mate.
9. Pucker up those lips! Give your mate a toe-curling kiss.
10. Enjoy a mind-blowing sexual encounter with your mate.
Garan clears his throat. “There is a typographical error with the numbering—”
“You want us to have sex?” explodes out of me. I shake the plasti-paper angrily at Leeka. “First I was kidnapped, now I’m being forced into giving sexual favours? No way, lady. I didn’t sign up for any of this. I’m not screwing anyone.”
“I agree,” says Garan, nodding. “After all, I have standards.”
My brief sense of amazement Garan agreed with me on something for the first time is slapped away by his insult. I round on him, ready to fire off a retort when Leeka interrupts.
“I see.” She nods, a look of cool acceptance on her face. “So you both don’t want to be matched with each other?”
“Fuck no.”
“Absolutely not.”
She throws her head back and laughs. It’s more of a cackle really. And the unhinged look I’d witnessed in my apartment is now in full effect on her face. Yikes. She’s on my Shit List but I definitely don’t ever wanna be on hers.
“Well, guess what?” She smirks. “When it comes to love, you don’t have a choice.”
With a snap of her fingers, another bright light manifests.
“Goddammit—”
And I’m spirited away to god-knows-where.
3
Garan
“Get off of me, you ass!”
I grunt and blink my eyes open. Rosalind Fry stares up at me, her frizzy red hair fanned behind her head, her bright hazel eyes sparkling with fury, her cheeks tinged red. Our faces are close—the closest we’ve ever been. Her pink lips are pursed in anger and not for the first time I want to taste them.
“I said get off, Dross.” She squirms and pushes against my shoulders, her touch clearing the fog of confusion and the thought of kissing her from my head. I realize I’m lying on top of her.
And we’re both naked.
Her soft, full breasts press against my chest, her fawn-coloured skin smooth and warm. I smirk down at her. Aside from giving life to a new spacecraft design, there’s no greater joy than irritating Rosalind Fry. It’s been years. I’ve forgotten how much I missed it.
“Keep moving around like that and I just might.”
She stiffens beneath me, her face reddening even m
ore. Gods above, she’s fucking gorgeous. In the past, I thought of her as an annoying, foul-mouthed being from a weaker species. But somewhere along the way during our schooling I grew attracted to her. Years later, the attraction roars to life.
A pity it’s not reciprocated.
“Move or I swear to God I’ll punch you straight to the moon.”
“You are remarkably violent for someone so tiny.”
I stand and extend a hand to help her to her feet as well. I’m awarded a brief view of her amazing tits and shaved sex before she sits up quickly on her own, ignoring my hand. She pulls her knees up to cover herself.
My species—the Rur dragons—are far less concerned about propriety. We’re often proud of our natural form and are unafraid to advertise it.
Her gaze slides down my front. She bites her lower lip, her eyes widening just a bit as they linger on my cock. Then she rockets her gaze back up to my face, her cheeks still suffused with red.
Smiling, I raise an eyebrow. “Enjoyed the view, human?”
“Eh. I’ve seen bigger and better,” she says as she gets to her feet.
My smile dissolves into a scowl. How dare she? I’m a Rur male. Aside from our unmatched speed and formidable strength, we’re well known for our impressive size and virility. My dragon within bristles from the slight and demands I punish her—preferably with a taste of the cock she’s just insulted.
She scans the area, her eyebrows drawn together. “Where are we, anyway? And why are we naked? The next time I see that green-headed demon I’m going to kill her.”
She has a hand over her mons and her other arm across her breasts, squishing them against her chest. They’re fuller and even more inviting. I drag my gaze away to survey our surroundings.
We’re on a beach. Before us is a perpetual expanse of turquoise green ocean and behind us is a jungle of vibrantly-coloured trees in varying shades of blue, violet and maroon.