Alien Romance: Stranded With The Alien Assassin: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Celestial Mates Book 3) (3 page)

“It’s Jayne,” she said boldly, “Jayne Mannet.”

The man sighed in response, giving her nothing else. She didn’t learn his name until much later.

Chapter Three

D’Anil knew she was going to be trouble from the start. He’d been watching from afar as the females were all grouped together. And he’d seen she was the one that triggered the outbreak. Luckily, the guards weren’t complete idiots, though as smugglers, they weren’t as trained as D’Anil would like when working in a group.

There’d only been one of them that had nearly gotten away, some warrior princess that they’d gotten. If she wasn’t such a catch, they may have let her go, but as soon as D’Anil brought the first one back, he went after the princess. His tracking skills never missed.

The smugglers took great care from that minute on. The princess was the most watched, as was the one that started it all.
It’s Jayne. Jayne Mannet
. D’Anil spit into the sand as he marched on. He never wanted to know her name, didn’t want to know it now.

Normally, it would be pretty easy for him to forget it, but he was specifically assigned to her and the princess, since he was the only one that could catch either of them. And they were kept separated from the rest of the group, not allowed to speak to each other even. The princess hadn’t taken too lightly to all the rules, and now they had her chained in a cart.

He wished they’d taken Jayne Mannet instead.

She didn’t shut up as they walked, making the days almost seem longer. By the time they were a day away from Dlahik, D’Anil felt like they’d been traveling for weeks. Where D’Anil liked silence, the woman seemed to try to avoid it completely.

D’Anil looked back to where she trailed behind him, her rope in his hands. They were given shoes now that they traveled in the daytime, and the smugglers had to avoid beating her, their product. But D’Anil could see through the thin clothing they put on her, on all of the slaves, the bruises on her arms.

Her skin was tanned, so it didn’t show like the others, and he only ever saw it when her clothes moved a certain way, but he had to wonder why her spirit hadn’t broken like so many others. Even the princess was growing hoarse in her voice.

Pretty faces are the most deceiving
, he thought to himself as she jabbered on. She could be stronger than she looked. Jayne Mannet was much shorter than him. His height comment from the first time they spoke seemed to bother, the woman haughtily mentioning that she was actually at average height for her species, at 5’6.”

The Drunae were not so different than humans in their appearance. In fact, their only difference seemed to be in body type. The Drunae were just bigger, stockier and taller. He was at least a foot and a half taller than her, and that was an average height for
his
species.

But for all intents and purposes, she could pull off looking like a Drunae woman, a very small one at that. And soft. Her clothes were loose, but D’Anil could sense she had gorgeous curves. He’d felt them when he first tackled her.

She had green eyes and dark hair, brown like his, though a few shades darker. “Probably from you getting more sun,” she’d mused, “I mean, we have a sun on Earth, of course. But the days here seem longer. Is everywhere like a desert here? Aren’t there any cities?”

At first, he tried to meet her questions with silence. But Jayne had a lot of them, and D’Anil still couldn’t understand why. Did all the slaves do this? When he looked around, he didn’t see any of them talking. Just crying or walking in complete silence. “There are cities,” he replied simply.

“Are we going to one now?”

“Yes, we’re going to Dlahik.” Not that she would know where that was. Jayne didn’t seem to know a lot about anything related to Imdali besides the fact that she was on it.

“How far do you think we are?” she asked, “How long until we get there?”

D’Anil sighed. “We’ll probably be there tomorrow.” There was only a moment of silence as Jayne nodded. He looked back to her, her mouth already opening with another question. “Are you going to talk the entire rest of the time?”

She grinned. It was the first time he’d seen her smile.
She has dimples
, he observed. “You could always talk instead,” Jayne countered, “I’ve been supplying over half of the conversation here. I’m going to need some water soon.”

Well, I can stop giving her water
, D’Anil mused. “I don’t like talking. I like the quiet.”

“That’s boring. Talking makes the time go by faster.”

“I’d have to disagree with that,” he replied dryly. Another minute of silence. When he looked back at her, she had her rosy lips pursed, obviously thinking. “What do you have to say now?”

Jayne tilted her head and smirked. “You could always let me go and point me in the direction of Dlahik, on a path where they
won’t
catch me. If I’m not here, I can’t talk, can I?”

“You wouldn’t last out in the deserts. You’ll die from the heat, get lost, or get taken by some stray bandits-“

“Because sticking around with smugglers is so great,” she snorted.

“And I’d lose my pay,” he continued on, as if she never interrupted him at all. D’Anil smirked as he eyed the brunette woman. “Nothing comes between me and my pay.”

“Then I guess you can handle another day of my talking.” This time her smile was more patronizing than anything.

D’Anil took one long look at her. She clearly didn’t know who she was dealing with. Perfectly understandable since part of his job meant that
no one
knew what he was quite capable of. She didn’t know that he could have her bled out in the sand in a matter of seconds, kill her and hide her body with perfect ease.

If she weren’t such a high profile prisoner, maybe he would have contemplated those options some more. Now, though, they’d notice if one of the main escapees was missing again. And there would go his pay. “We’re getting you a gag.”

He saw in her face that she thought he wasn’t serious, but he was. And the next time Jayne opened her mouth, he kept his promise.

Night had fallen. The sky was pitch black save for the skies just over the eastern hills of sand. In that direction, there was a tinge of orange, which D’Anil knew to be the city lights. They were close, but the men were tired and their deadline was the next day. They could get one last sleep in.

D’Anil sat down at the fire, across from Jayne. She looked at him sourly, which was the look she’d given him since he first followed up on the threat. Ignoring the glare, he looked at flames between them and sighed, drinking from his cup.

The alcohol was shit, but it would do the trick, at least get him to sleep tonight. D’Anil had trouble falling asleep, had since he was a child. He knew it had to do with his mother, with losing her the way he did, but he never really dealt with it besides with booze to numb him enough.

“Y’know, you’re pretty when you’re not talking,” D’Anil told Jayne boldly, smirking into his mug. It was emboldening him, loosening his tongue. She was pretty even when she was talking, though he’d been too annoyed at first to really realize it.

Her eyes seemed even more bewitchingly green with the reflection of the fire burning in them, and now with the fact that he couldn’t see her mouth, D’Anil was remembering how pink and full her lips looked, and her dimples. He sighed, shrugging his cup towards her. “Want a drink?”

She cocked an eyebrow in response. “I’ll remove the gag if you stop asking so many questions,” he continued.

Jayne looked down at the mug thoughtfully, then back at up at D’Anil. She exhaled slowly and gave a reluctant nod, which amused D’Anil. Did she really like talking
that
much? He got up and moved around the fire, placing the mug at her feet.

Making quick work of the ropes, the man arranged it so that her hands were tied in front of her, settled in her lap, instead of behind her, and he kept her legs bound as well. Finally, he removed the gag, placing it carefully on the ground beside her.

“Seriously, one question and you’re done,” he warned, “The gag goes back on.”

The human woman smirked, replying a moment later, “People who don’t like questions tend to have the most secrets.” She took a drink from the cup, ending up coughing and putting it back down with a frown on her face.

D’Anil laughed. It’d been a while since he laughed. “Good there?”

“It’s strong, definitely strong,” Jayne coughed, “How can you guys even drink that crap?”

“That’s a question.”

Jayne looked at him sardonically. “Bite me.”

D’Anil smiled again before reaching for the mug. He moved closer to her so that they could share it, taking a swig. “Be careful; I might actually do it.”

“You break it, you buy it… I mean, that’s what I am now. Like some cheap, porcelain figurine at the store that a kid comes by and smashes.”

He didn’t get what she was saying, simply because the Drunae didn’t have porcelain, nor did they feel the need to decorate their homes with figurines. But he knew what “cheap” meant. “Don’t worry. You’ll go for a good grip of money. Unless they mention that you tried escaping, but… Nah. That’d be hurting them as much as you by lowering your sale value.”

“What, you’re not with them?” she asked.

“Question,” D’Anil reminded her, taking another drink. He nodded his head towards the gag. “I’ll give you one more chance, and only because I’m starting to feel the alcohol.”

Jayne scoffed, “You’re making it really hard to make conversation. Pass the mug.”

They passed it between each other. Jayne was careful about not asking any more questions though by the time D’Anil was getting up for the third refill, she could have asked any question that she wanted to. He was used to drinking alone at nights, sometimes not drinking or sleeping at all if he was on a very important job. But she was good company when she wasn’t interrogating.

He stayed quiet a lot, letting her talk. Jayne got drunk before he did and turned out to be a giggler. She told him about being a teacher, the students she taught. She made jokes about her family and friends, which D’Anil would smile or chuckle to.

As she took the last drink of their fourth cup, both of them leaning against each other’s shoulders, drunkenly noises reached their ears, cutting through their friendly conversation. There were a few screams and cries, moans. D’Anil knew what it was, the smugglers taking the offer to try out whichever product they wanted. His jaw tightened, looking at Jayne from the corner of his eye.

She still had the mug in her hands, her eyes wide. She was completely still, save for her chest moving as she breathed.

“What are they doing?” He didn’t answer her, and he didn’t think she expected him to. “I can’t do this,” Jayne whispered to herself, “I can’t… Shit, what have I gotten myself into this time?”

D’Anil didn’t really think it was fair she was blaming herself. Slaves were never really volunteers, after all. He was bad at comforting people, always had been, and he didn’t know how to make Jayne feel better about what was happening to her. D’Anil didn’t even know why he wanted to try. He had only ever cared about his own wellbeing.

She made it clear within the next minute that she didn’t want his words to comfort her. Jayne launched herself at him, her mouth pressing against his, messy from both being drunk and clearly trying to distract herself from what was going on around her.

He tried to make a bit more sense of it, but he too was drunk, and there was a craving for her lips that he hadn’t realized he had until they were there, soft and warm against his. Her body turned towards him, and D’Anil reached out to place a hand on her hip.

D’Anil deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing along her bottom lip until she opened up to him. Jayne was impatient with her kisses, moaning softly as their tongues battled against one another. “Untie my hands,” she whispered against his lips.

“No,” he answered instantly.

“But I want to touch you,” she argued, pressing kisses down his chin and along his jawline. Jayne threw one leg over him so that she straddled his lap. Grinding herself into him, she moved down his neck. D’Anil groaned, tilting his head back. “Let me touch you…”

Right now, he was drunk and aroused, and he only had just enough sense to make sure he wasn’t getting taken advantage of. D’Anil had only been able to catch her before with his full strength and wit about him. He’d seen the fear in Jayne’s eyes. She wanted to escape. “No,” he insisted, and in an instant, the brunette was on her back, D’Anil turning them over so that he could control her. He pressed his hips into hers firmly, smirking when she gasped from the feeling of his hardness.

Jayne made a noise of frustration, but her hips were still trying to move up into his desperately. She moved her hands up and over his head so that they looped around his neck, bringing him closer.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” he asked calmly. D’Anil was never the type to sleep with a woman that wouldn’t remember it in the morning. While he didn’t have a strong moral code, he did have a bit of an ego.

“If things don’t go my way, this is going to be the last time I ask for this,” she replied breathlessly, “Just fuck me.”

D’Anil pressed his lips together.
Pity
. He was feeling pity. There was a long list of things he avoided feeling, and pity was at the top of them. Pity could get in the way of his jobs, of any of them. D’Anil had to stay impartial with his targets – and with the products. Because she was a product, as strange as that seemed after drinking and joking.
Get yourself together
, he told himself,
Get some distance.
But it was hard when there was alcohol in his blood and a wanting woman underneath his body.