Enslave Me Sweetly
Enslave Me Sweetly (Alien Huntress #2)(10)
Author: Gena Showalter
“Makes sense.” Since the move had worked for me before, I went low, kicked out. My leg connected with his ankles. When he tumbled down, I jumped and pinned his shoulders with my knees, my crotch near his face.
He met my eyes, then purposefully slid his gaze slid downward. “Nice view.”
I shivered and tried to halt the new flicker of awareness sparking within me. Short, inky locks of hair spiked over his forehead, giving him a just-roused-from-bed appearance. “Look, I’m not like other women you know. I’m tougher than you think. I’ve done things and been places most people only fear.”
“You’re still a woman,” he said, as if that explained every secret of the universe. “And you’re a Raka, the most peaceful race ever to slink their way onto this planet.”
Slink? I should break his nose for that. “I’m a Rakan woman who kills people for a living. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not afraid of EenLi. Iwill kill him.”
An unreadable emotion glimmered in his eyes, and I wondered what he was feeling. Admiration? I wished. Doubt? Most likely.
“Why do you choose to kill other-worlders when you yourself are an other-worlder? Isn’t that like killing your own brother?”
“My reasons are my own and no business of yours.”
“I’ve read your file,” he said. “No reason is mentioned.”
Stunned, I blinked. Michael had the nerve to delete Lucius’s file so I would have to learn about him on my own, but he left my file for the man to peruse at his leisure? Fury seared me, and lightning snapped along my tongue. “Like my reasoning, my file is my business and mine alone.”
He remained unperturbed. “I’ll be honest. You’re a contradiction, and I haven’t figured you out yet. By killing other-worlders, you protect humans,” he said, “but humans hunt your people for their golden skin.”
“I’m as much an earthling as you are. I was born here, raised here. The fact that I’m Rakan…” I gave a stiff shrug. “You’re human. Would you kill a human if you had to?”
“Absolutely,” he said. His eyebrows arched. “Would you?”
“Absolutely,” I replied. “You, in particular. Some people, no matter their race or gender, are bad and need to be destroyed. That’s the only way peace will be reached.”
Those full lips of his curved sensuously, and I had the sudden, unwelcome urge to lean down and nibble them.
“You want to know what Michael plans for us today or what?” he asked.
I nodded and fought a rise of color in my cheeks because I’d forgotten Michael’s dictate so easily. Stupid lust. I didn’t like this man. Remember?
“Last night one of our agents caught Sahara Rose. She’s being held in New Dallas,” he said, not bothering to try and move me off of him. “Michael wants us to fly there and question her, get whatever information we can.”
I nearly jumped to my feet in excitement and anticipation, but managed to remain where I was. “When do we leave?”
“Two hours.” He clasped his hands over my thighs and squeezed. Not enough to hurt, but enough to get my attention. “I want to question her alone, which means you need to stay here.”
I laughed. I just couldn’t help myself. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“There’s no way you’ll get answers out of her. You look about as scary as a bowl of warm honey.”
“Looks do not determine ability,” I ground out, losing all traces of humor. I’d heard similar words my entire life. As a teenager, my spoiled, pampered self had loved that kind of statement. As an adult, and in light of my recent failure, I hated—hated!—hearing such a thing.
“And don’t even get me started on your mouth,” he continued.
“What about my mouth?” I asked slowly.
“It’s a two-hundred-dollars-an-hour mouth, not a tell-me-all-your-secrets-or-I’ll-kill-you mouth.”
“You know what?” I said. Oh, this was going to be fun. He obviously had no idea what he was about to encounter with his interrogation. “I’m willing to make a bet with you. I’ll give you ten minutes to get a single answer out of Sahara Rose. A single answer.” I’d followed the woman for days. I knew her. Lucius, with his towering build and hard-ass I-don’t-give-
a-shit edge, would intimidate her into absolute silence.
Wicked intent gleamed in his expression. “And when Ido get an answer out of her?” he asked, both brows raised.
“I’ll let you have my mouth for free.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.”
“Don’t you want to know what I get if you fail?”
“I don’t plan to fail.”
“You still have to offer me something I want.”
Now he hesitated. “What?” he asked suspiciously.
“When your ten minutes are up, I want you to step aside and shut the hell up. I’ll get the information we need. Afterward, you’re going to get on your knees and praise my ability.”
His lips stretched to a full, anticipatory grin. “Agreed. But get ready, cookie.” He lifted up, getting so close I felt the warmth of his breath on my face. “I want your mouth all over me.”
Chapter 4
Iwant your mouth all over me.
I tried not to think about Lucius’s parting words as I luxuriated in the softness and decadence of Michael’s private ITS—Ionic Transport System—a jet that ran on vibrations of subparticle strings of energy rather than gasoline. Complete with four laser cannons and retractable wings. I tried not to imagine my mouth devouring Lucius’s hard, muscled body, his moans of pleasure in my ears, his hands gripping my hair, the taste of him teasing my tongue.
Unfortunately, I thought of little else and spent nearly every moment of the flight to New Dallas lost in a sensual haze. The cloying scent of honey still wafted from me—and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. At least Lucius hadn’t mentioned my ‘perfume’ again. I might die of acute mortification if he did—I could even picture the headline of my obituary:
“Alien Assassin Survives Antique Gunshot, Laser, Knife Wounds, Poison, and Explosion, Only to Succumb to the Stupid-ass Comment of a Human Male.”
I pushed out a breath and settled deeper into the plush leather seat. The private, luxury ITS offered a smooth ride, a lavish sapphire couch and a gilded table. If it weren’t for the panoramic view of white clouds and blue sky, I might have convinced myself I lounged at home, reflecting on the success of my last mission.