Taken
Blue Barbarian 3
As if things weren’t hard enough when I was taken by aliens, ten of us human females are dumped onto a strange new planet to integrate with the barbaric natives. But the last thing I remember is I refused to tie myself to anyone.
Now I awaken from an overdose of medicinal tea with bizarre gaps in my memory, and I’m mated to Aschero, one of the sexy blue barbarians I’d been fooling around with. As my memories return, I try to piece together the puzzle of why my life is so different than what I remember.
Unfortunately, along with my memories comes a horrible secret I want so desperately to bury, but each day inches closer to exposure.
Excerpt:
I’m aware of the strange blue barbarians watching us. The one I cut eye-contact off with earlier heads to us and stops right in front of me. He grunts something in their barbaric language. I stare at him, because it’s directed at me. Me. Why me? Why the hell has he pegged me?
Then he kneels down and out of the blue lifts my foot. I’m so startled, I fall backward. My arms flail, but he doesn’t bat an eye. Or one of those long, lush eyelashes.
Smooth as can be, he reaches out and catches me in his beefy, blue arms. Damn, he’s strong, and masterful, and…sexy.
“Oomph,” I say, and remember the new me. I’m no longer the prude. I’m the one who decided I will never get tricked by a charmer again. No, instead I’m the one who will be the charmer. “Wowser. Those are some big biceps you have.” Because I can’t help it, I reach out and run my open palm along the bulge of hard, tight muscles.
His lip lifts and he gives me the tiniest smile from the side of his mouth. The smile transforms him. He has one small indentation in the side of his face, making him seem younger suddenly. He looks lean, mean, and…gorgeously sexy.
He settles me on his thigh, using his leg as my ledge. His thigh muscles tighten under my ass. Then he takes my foot in his large hand, rubs the sole gently, and then slips something onto it.
It’s a flip-flop of sorts. The barbarians found some kind of hard, spongy leaf and strung a vine or something through the front, between the first two toes.
Then he takes a bone knife and cuts the excess off the portion that extends from my heel, shaping the sponge-like leaf to my foot. He pokes a hole in the back and strings another vine through it, while knotting it underneath the sole. He wraps the back vine around my ankle and ties it. The front vine attaches to the ankle loop and voila. I’m wearing a sandal.
“Wow,” someone murmurs.
I place my arm around his shoulder, as if I need additional support. It feels right to sit here, in his arms. But I refuse to let it feel serious. Instead, I lean back to flutter my lashes at the rest of the girls, and feel a grin spread across my face. “I feel like Cinderella. With a blue prince.”
I extend one leg out, pointing the toe of my bare foot.
“Bitch, please,” someone else groans.
The alien takes my pointed foot and does the same thing with a new sandal.
“Notice how he’s not even tired? Squatting there with a full grown woman on his thigh? Like she weighs nothing?” Gigi asks.
“We notice, we notice,” Tessa says, and she’s staring at the muscles of my guy’s butt.
A spark of jealousy erupts in me. But then I’m distracted by the big, blue barbarian who places a finger on my jaw, turning my head back toward him. He wants me to concentrate on him.
Vaguely I’m aware of the other aliens grabbing the rest of the standing, gawking girls to work sandals onto their feet. But I’m focused on my alien, who’s trying to tell me something.
“As. Cher. Oh.”
“Huh?”
He points to his magnificent, broad chest with his thumb. “As. Cher. Oh.”
Aschero. Is that his name?
“Aschero?”
He nods, the same tiny smile grazes the side of his lip again. He focuses on my lips.
“I’m Miranda. Mir. Ann. Da.”
“Meer. Ann. Duh.”
“Miranda.”
“Meeranda.”
Close enough, big guy. I run my hand up his arm. He tightens the muscles at my touch and oh, yeah, that’s sexy. But then, he places his blue hand on the pale white skin of my thigh. He inches it upward and heat radiates from his palm.
He slips under the edge of my alien-hospital gown, along my upper thigh. It lets me know exactly what it is he’s interested in. But he’s respectful, and leaving his hand right there, instead of going for the gold.
At least, there’s no pretense, not like with Michael. The blue alien is letting me know we could pleasure each other mutually. I’m okay with a bit of exploring.
The others are distracted anyway.
I reach out and trace his lip. He’s got high cheekbones and his eyes are the palest blue, much lighter than the blue of his skin. His lips part and his teeth gleam white. But they’re sharp and he has small fangs. I shiver. Obviously, their species are meat eaters.
Hope he realizes my skin is tender, should we ever do the full-on dirty and he decides to nip.
