Page 15 of Taken by Her Mates

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And the look of him! He was bigger than any human man I’d ever met, more defined. Just… more. He noticed my inspection and his eyes narrowed before he returned his attention to the road. “Do not worry. The Hive technology will not contaminate you.”

“What?” Contaminate me? Was he crazy? Had I made the wrong call getting in the car? I could jump out when it came to a stop sign, but he’d catch me. There was no question he was bigger, stronger, more fit, and definitely sharply focused on me.

He grimaced, his hands twisting on the steering wheel until it actually looked like it might bend. “The Hive technology you see will not harm you.”

“What are you talking about? The silver?”

His gaze flashed to mine as if he were surprised by my response, but I honestly had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “Yes. When I was captured by the Hive, I was tortured by their implant teams for several hours. Most of what was done to me was removed. What you see now is permanent. I also carry their mark on my shoulder, across my back, and down my leg.”

I was actually beginning to feel sorry for him. The Hive had really worked him over. I’d heard too many stories about the torture and suffering of soldiers behind enemy lines. And I knew firsthand that some scars didn’t show on the surface. “Is it dangerous?”

“No.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay.” I shrugged and turned my attention back to the road. “So what? Does it make you super fast or incredibly strong? Does it heal quickly or give you some kind of advantage in a fight?” I shivered, wondering what amazing things I could do with a bunch of cyborg implants. I’d be like the bionic woman times ten. I could buy a costume and do the whole superhero thing for real. That would be pretty damn cool. I’d go all black, and take down bad guys in the dark.

He remained silent so long I turned back to look at him.

“Yes. I am much stronger than most warriors. The implants also increase my reaction speed.” He was watching me with a confused look on his face. “You ask odd questions. Do you not fear me?”

I choked on my laughter. I was sitting in his car, already shot and chased down by a freaky alien monster that was trying to kill me. “You’re the least frightening thing I’ve had to deal with for days.”

He frowned at me and I turned away to watch the trees pass by outside my window.

Just great. Of course I’d somehow insulted him. I’d known him for all of ten minutes, and already put my foot in my mouth. He’d rejected me before. Why was he here now? Before I’d been left stranded on that exam chair in the processing center, my transport denied, I would have felt elation and excitement, anticipation at meeting him. Now? I felt no relief. Or hope. I felt hurt. Betrayed.

Why come for me now? What had changed? Was there not someone else who was better suited? I wanted the answer, but pride prevented me asking the question. Not only was he here, but who the hell was this Ander? A second? What did that even mean? And why was Ander, strange alien man, so obsessed with me—I’d never even met the alien—that he was willing to kill for me and boast about it?

What bothered me even more was why the hell did that get me hot? I didn’t normally go for the he-man type. Hell, I didn’t date much at all. Normally, I was perfectly happy taking care of myself. In my experience men were too egotistical to deal with a strong female. They wanted whining, simpering schoolgirls who pawed all over them and told them how wonderful they were in bed, how strong and handsome and all the other constant praise that it seemed weak-minded men needed to hear.

I didn’t have time for that. I was a soldier for four years. My dad was a cop, killed by a drug deal gone wrong when I was sixteen. My mom died of cancer four years later. I’d grown up without siblings or blinders on. I knew who I was and I was not the woman a man—or alien—traveled across the entire galaxy for. Hell, no man even drove across town for me. My parents had lived in the real world. I knew about drugs, prostitution, and corruption before my tenth birthday. Because of this, I knew how important the fight for justice truly was.

Without good people fighting for this world, it would go to hell in a handbasket. I could see the corruption, the evil tearing at the basic fabric of society. Knowing it was men like Clyde who’d only made it worse made me seethe with anger and frustration. I’d been a fighter. I’d tracked drug money, written exposé articles about corruption at every level, and I’d refused to be bought off.

My reward? I’d been set up, found guilty, and sentenced to serve a lifetime as the bride to an alien warrior I’d never met.

Until even he didn’t freaking want me. Yeah, I was odd. Opinionated. Strong-willed. Too tall, too big, and too direct. I’d joined the army to learn how to fight using my body, and to college to learn to fight using my mind. I didn’t play nice, I didn’t lie, and I didn’t take any bullshit from a man. Ever.

This guy shows up, he and his friend act like Neanderthals, swooping in to save me from the bad guys and I get horny and wet?

What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t need a man to rescue me. I didn’t need a man for anything. Not even sex, not when a trusty vibrator could do the job. Except for that kiss…

“I’m losing my mind.”

“You are injured and in shock. Do not worry, mate, your mind is intact.”

Okay, mister hot alien. “Literal much?”

“I do not understand your question.”

“Never mind. What were those things, exactly?” Turning my head again, I opened my eyes to study the man who had rescued me from certain capture. His face was strong, his features slightly more angular than a human’s would be, but in no way less appealing. He filled the small space in the car like a mountain squeezed into a thimble, but he handled the vehicle with an expertise I found fascinating, as I was sure he’d never driven a

car before coming to Earth.

Never mind that the sight of his strong hands conjured images of him using them to touch me, to slide those long fingers inside my body and make me come all over him. And that kiss? I wanted more. Holy hell, any conscious woman would want more. He was big and hard and made me feel things I’d never felt before, like awe. Respect. And he was part machine. From what he’d said about being captured by the Hive and used as some kind of experiment he was now, and forever would be, part machine. The idea was insane.


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides Program Fantasy