A Christmas Most Alien Page 3

  She spoke briefly then turned back to him. He pointed at her. “Laylla?”

  Her eyes widened with surprise, and he warily watched as her hair rose then settled around her head in some sort of complicated knot. That was going to take some getting used to. Still, it was less freaky than the alien with the three giant penises who’d propositioned him during his last stop to refuel.

  He was not into men, and even if he had been, three penises were more than he was willing to take on. He shuddered.

  “Laylla,” she repeated and touched her chest. He smiled and pointed at himself.

  “Rich.”

  “Reach?”

  “Rich,” he repeated more slowly.

  “Rich.”

  “That’s right.” He smiled at her. “Laylla.” He pointed at her then himself. “Rich.”

  She nodded then barked out something he couldn’t understand. The smaller female with the limp appeared and handed his female an animal skin.

  His female? What was he thinking? She wasn’t his. Although it kind of appeared she’d claimed him as she placed the skin around his shoulders. It was surprisingly soft and warm. With the sun sinking, it was getting decidedly cooler. Was she taking care of him?

  She moved away before he could protest that he didn’t need looking after. What sort of male did she take him for? Rich was all for equal rights. He believed women could do anything men could. But while he might not be a fighter, not physically, he still had his male pride.

  He took note of the guards she’d appointed to watch over the camp. He’d need to move carefully to avoid them. While his female might have atrocious manners, she walked with a confidence that spoke of command.

  Fuck, he was turned on.

  When she returned, it was fully dark, only the light of the red-tinged moon and the flickering of the fire lit the darkness. She moved in next to him. Shit. She didn’t plan on sleeping in here, did she?

  She laid down on her side, then said something.

  Rich turned towards her, and her hair flicked out circling his wrists. Suddenly, he found himself dragged back, his arms held above his head while she loomed over him. He licked his lips, a mix of fear and arousal filling his blood.

  Okay, what now, genius?

  What if she wanted sex with him? How could he stop her? Did he want to stop her? He was attracted to her, but beyond her name, he knew nothing about her.

  And since when had that ever stopped him from fucking someone? Except in those other instances, he’d always been the one in charge. The one calling the shots.

  He pushed against her hold on his wrists, the golden threads of her hair were soft but firm. He couldn’t move. His heart beat fast, his breath coming in harsh pants as she ran a hand down his chest. She moved her hand under his shirt, reaching up to flick a tight nipple. His breath caught, and he groaned slightly.

  She stilled then moved her hand to his other nipple. Something moved against his cock, and he looked down, just able to make out another coil of hair pressing against his cock through his pants.

  “Okay, this is getting just a bit freaky. If you’re gonna jerk me off at least use your hand.” That coil of hair slipped beneath his pants, popping open the button and circling his hard dick.

  Oh, God. He was about to go off like a rocket. He knew he was. He drew his legs up in protest, although it was half-hearted most.

  She stilled and said something that sounded like a question. Was she asking him if he wanted to continue? Or was she telling him that he had a choice, let her fuck him or end up in the pot? Fucked if he knew.

  The coils of hair disappeared from around his wrists and cock, and she slid her hand out from under his shirt. Disappointment filled him, hard and sharp, as she turned him, so his back was to her. She pulled him against her, swinging her arm and leg over him, spooning him from behind.

  His cock throbbed insistently. The feel of her behind him only made matters worse, and Rich knew he’d be getting very little sleep tonight.

  Shit.

  ***

  Laylla lay there confused and uncertain. She knew the male ached. That he needed release. And yet, when she had offered he had refused her. Or at least, that is what she had gathered from the way he had pulled his legs up close to his chest.

  She didn’t understand at all. She’d felt the hardness of his shaft. Everyone knew that males did not sleep well while they were in need. It was why they were often serviced each evening, and for the most virulent among them in the mornings as well. Although, there were not many males who needed servicing twice a day anymore. Most of their male population was aging. They needed new males. Younger, healthier males like this one.

  He'd seemed almost shocked that she would serve him food and drink first. But all males took that as their right, didn’t they? To be served before a female. To have their needs—all of their needs—taken care of.

  This male was most confusing. Did his females not care for him properly where he came from? Is that why he found himself alone and traveling around the skies unprotected and uncared for?

  Perhaps it was up to her to show him how a male should truly be cared for.

  There was no denying she was attracted to him. The folds between her legs were slick with dew, and her insides throbbed with the desire to take him deep inside her. She had never felt this way towards any of the males in their village.

  He was strong for a male. And attractive. He would create tough, strong female babies.

  Hmm, perhaps it was something to think about. If she could find the time to train him, he might make a good match.

  Chapter Three

  Finally, the female fell asleep, her hold on him lessening. Rich slowly counted to two hundred to ensure she was in a deeper sleep before slipping from beneath her hold. He held his breath as she mumbled something. When she didn’t move, he made his way to the front of the shelter and peered out. Where were those damn guards? The fire was still burning, but the moon had drifted behind a cloud so he couldn’t see much.

  Well, if he couldn’t see, then neither could they, he reasoned.

  Still, to be safe he’d head for the shadows and….he let out a yell as something curled around his ankle just as he was about to make his move.

  Fuck.

  He glanced back to find Laylla sitting up. She barked something at him.

  “Um, I had to take a piss.”

  She moved closer to him, and he pointed out at the trees then pointed down at his crotch. Fuck, was this the most embarrassing moment of his life or what?

  Nope, a few minutes later as they stood in a small clearing, he discovered that things could get more embarrassing as pointed down at his crotch demandingly. Did she seriously expect him to pee while she watched?

  And while he might have been using it as an excuse to explain why he was sneaking out, he now really needed to go.

  He turned around then glanced at her over his shoulder as he went about his business. But she didn’t appear to be watching him. Instead her gaze roamed the shrubbery around them. What was she looking for? There was nothing else out here but the two of them. The moon drifted out from behind a cloud, flooding them with light. Suddenly, the forest around them seemed all too menacing. Everything went silent, as though waiting.

  As he finished up and stepped away, he heard a low, menacing growl. Laylla moved towards him and pushed him behind her back. She backed up slowly, holding her sword out in front of her.

  Rich wisely backed up as well. Suddenly, something darted out at them. A black blur. It slammed against Laylla, pushing her to the ground and looming over her with a snarl. She brought up the hand that held the wicked knife and stabbed at the animal. It roared in anger and snapped its hideous teeth at her, barely missing her face as she dived to one side. It reminded Rich of a wolf, vicious and deadly. But this had to be at least twice the size of an ordinary wolf, and it was quick. Really quick.

  Rich looked around for something to help Laylla and spotted a large stick. It wouldn’
t be much of a weapon, but maybe he could distract the beast while she got in another stab. She let out a loud cry, and his heart stopped beating as he saw the beast dig its claws into her chest. He grabbed the stick and raced over, smacking the heavy branch against the beast’s head.

  The beast shook its head, almost as though shaking off a buzzing bee. What was its skull made of? Concrete?

  Then it turned towards Rich, eyes shining bright red, saliva dripping from its teeth. It leaped towards him. Shit, this was it.

  Run!

  He stumbled backwards, tripping and falling onto his ass. He threw his arm up across his face to protect himself, cringing.

  Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. Then he heard a shout. He dropped his arm, blinking as he saw the beast lying on the ground. Its eyes stared up at him, blank and full of death. Two arrows protruded from its side.

  He panted heavily, drawing air into his tight lungs. Laylla let out a low moan, and he turned towards her. She was hurt. He took a few steps towards her when two women ran into the clearing and crouched over her. One of them raced off, while the other one tore at Laylla’s suit.

  Was she okay? Was she alive?

  Another female rushed over, holding a cloth which she pressed against Laylla’s chest. Suddenly, Rich realized that this would be the perfect time to slip away. But could he leave, knowing she was injured?

  What do you care? She means nothing to you.

  He moved slowly backward. But no one was paying him any attention. They were too busy taking care of Laylla’s injury. He turned and nearly plowed right into the female with the limp. He noticed that she held a bow in her right hand. Had she been the one who had shot the beast?

  “Markug,” she told him.

  He held his hands out with a smile. “Sorry, I don’t understand. I was just going to head back towards the camp. See.” He stepped around her and slowly moved towards the camp, hoping she didn’t follow him. He glanced over his shoulder to see her watching him suspiciously. He smiled widely and pointed at the shelter he’d come from.

  As soon as he was inside, he moved to the far side and pulled it up, crawling out. As he stood, something whipped around his wrist. What the hell? He glanced down to see dark hair circling his right wrist then his left. He looked up to see the female with the limp glaring at him from a few feet away.

  Well, shit.

  ***

  “Enough. Leave me,” Laylla barked at Sirya and Caria.

  She breathed in deeply, trying not to wince at the pain in her chest. The narkle beast had swiped its claws across her chest, barely missing her right nipple. The pain was intense, and she had to work hard not to let the agony show on her face.

  Laylla couldn’t show weakness. She was the leader of this group of hunters. She was supposed to be strong. Always in charge. In their society, strength was worshipped. The weak were preyed upon—when it came to the females, anyway. Even though she had known these women for years, she did not fully trust that they wouldn’t take this opportunity to challenge her for leadership and at the moment she was not up to fighting a challenge.

  “I will mix you up something for the pain,” Sirya told her as she tucked up the bandage around Laylla’s chest. Caria held up a lit torch for light.

  Laylla shook her head. “Do not bother. It is not that painful.”

  They glanced at each other, then down at her.

  “Go. I am fine. Bring me the male and Amira.” She used her most commanding voice.

  They had told her that Amira was guarding the male and she was grateful for that. Out of everyone, she only trusted Amira. That trust hadn’t come easily. Laylla was the strongest fighter in the village. A good provider. But there was always someone who thought they were better, someone who wanted to prove they were faster, stronger, smarter.

  Sometimes, it was a tiring way to live.

  Laylla knew Amira would never challenge her.

  They left, and soon Amira stepped inside, carrying a torch. Behind her, the male crouched and entered. It was very tight with the three of them, and he stumbled slightly, catching himself with his hands which were bound in front of him with Amira’s hair. She ran her gaze over him, noting that he seemed unhurt. Relief filled her. She had not wanted to ask Sirya and Caira about his health and risk letting them know that he meant something to her, especially when she wasn’t capable of defending any claim on him.

  “What happened?” Laylla demanded.

  “I was on watch and saw the two of you leave. I was coming to check everything was all right when I heard you yell out. I saw the nankle beast was about to attack the male. Thankfully, I managed to shoot and kill it before it could attack him.”

  “Rich,” Laylla told her.

  “What?”

  “His name is Rich.”

  “You spoke to him?” Amira asked.

  “I only understood his name,” Laylla explained, shifting so she could sit. Sweat broke out on her face, and the male jolted forward. But Amira pulled him back, scowling at him.

  “Laylla, you need to rest,” Amira insisted.

  “It is not so bad. Just a few scratches. You know I cannot appear weak.”

  Amira looked out worriedly. “I will stand watch over you tonight. In the morning, we will assess. We may have to wait another day until we can take the stampa beast back.”

  Laylla shook her head. “The beast has to be taken back tomorrow or the meat will spoil.”

  “Then I will wait here while you rest more,” Amira told her stubbornly. “Besides, your male needs close watching.”

  “Why? What happened? Is that why you have him bound?” She still didn’t like that the other female touched him. Even though she did not have a claim on him.

  “He attempted to escape,” Amria told her, shocking her.

  “Escape? Where did he think to escape to? He would not last out there on his own.”

  Amira nodded grimly. “I know. I caught him sneaking out the side of your shelter. I have kept him close to me since. I did not punish him, though. I thought you would take care of that once you are well.”

  Laylla nodded grimly. She did not relish punishing her male, but it would have to be done. A wave of dizziness washed over her. Later. Once she was well.

  “Laylla, you need to lie down.”

  “Let the male go and leave. I will take care of him now.”

  “Are you certain? I can still keep watch—”

  “Leave,” she snapped out, then she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I apologize for my sharpness. I am grateful for your help, but I can take care of the male.”

  Amira nodded, but her face was tense. “I will remain outside.” She removed her hair from Rich’s hands, and he rubbed them, talking to himself.

  Laylla whipped her hair out and twisted it around his wrists. He glared at her, but she ignored him, angry that he would choose a moment when she was weak and injured to attempt to sneak off. Where did he think he was going? Back to his ship? Did he not realize it was a wreck? Did he not know that he belonged to her?

  No, because I have not claimed him. Am I claiming him?

  Uneasiness filled her.

  “Lie down. Sleep,” she barked out as she lay back, groaning quietly.

  Surprisingly, the male moved closer to her and lay down. He gently touched her chest and asked something in his strange language.

  “It will be fine,” she told him coolly. “Go to sleep.”

  ***

  It was foolish to feel bad for trying to escape. He was being held prisoner, of course, he was going to escape. And yet, every time his princess looked at him with reproach, he felt lower than low.

  Okay, it probably wasn’t cool that he’d attempted to sneak off without finding out that she was all right. Especially as it had been his fault they’d been there in the first place. But he’d seen an opportunity, and he’d taken it. If the chance came again, then he’d have to take it.

  The other females had left at daybreak, riding their
two-headed beasts and dragging the carcass behind them. Laylla and the female with the limp had seemed to argue about something before the other female left as well.

  Now it was just the two of them.

  And why did that seem kind of ominous?

  Rich sat there, impatient and bored as Laylla slept. He stared down at his bound wrists and let out a growl. Obviously, that tattletale told her that she’d caught him trying to sneak off because Laylla hadn’t let go of him all night. He’d hoped her hold on him might loosen as she slept but it was as tight as ever.

  “You know, I really don’t have time for this. I have things to do, places to be…well, I will have. As soon as I’m rescued.”

  And that couldn’t come soon enough. Laylla moved then made a whimpering noise as it obviously hurt. Something stirred in him. Something that wanted to take away her pain, that made him wish it had been him who was injured, who’d protected her.

  But that was ridiculous. She was the fighter, not him. This was her planet, she knew the risks. Still, he didn’t like that she was injured. And he really didn’t like that they’d been left on their own. What if one of those damn beasts came back? She was in no condition to fight it off, and Rich didn’t have any weapons with him. They would be sitting ducks here.

  Suddenly, Laylla’s eyes opened, and she watched him solemnly. She pulled herself up, so she was sitting. Rich reached out without thinking to help her, and she tugged his hands back with her hair, frowning at him.

  Okay, so she didn’t want any help. Roger that.

  He just watched as she painfully stood and walked out of the shelter. His wrists were tugged, and with a groan, he got up and followed.

  “So where are we going?” he asked. “What’s the plan now? Why are we here alone? Where did your people go? Will they come back for us?”

  She didn’t reply. Not that he expected her to, but it was better than walking around in silence. She quickly relieved herself then waited for him to do the same.

  “You’re really taking all the mystery out of this romance,” he told her as he finished. She drew him over to a stream and waited while he drank before doing the same. Once more, with his wrists bound by her hair, he had to follow behind as she made her way back to the shelter. She pulled a pack out from the back of the shelter, and opened it, drawing out what looked like dried jerky.