Taste of Cyn

When Murad, a powerful and deadly Warlord, arrives to repair Gale’s beloved ship, she doesn’t like it one bit. She sees the danger lurking behind his wide, sexy smile and the temptation in his coarse touch. He stands too close. He smells too good. He muddles her mind with erotic thoughts no bounty hunter should ever entertain.

Murad is known for being lighthearted…until he meets Gale. He’s deadly serious about seducing his curvaceous bounty hunter. With one blast of her stun gun, she captures his attention, and starts his lust burning. To claim Gale for his mate, Murad will brave his cautious female’s itchy trigger finger, his overbearing older brother and Gale’s sense of duty.

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***Gale lay chest down on the cold metal floor, her arms stretched out before her. “We’re running out of time,” she told her non-functioning single-manned ship. “If I don’t figure out how to repair you soon, that annoying Warlord Zeta sent will insist upon helping.”

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, viewing Murad’s impending invasion of her beloved sanctuary as a bigger threat than the possible failure of the ship’s life support systems.

“So come on, hon. Work for me.” Gale jiggled the cable leading to the ship’s power converter, hoping to reactivate the process.

Nothing happened.

“Ohhh…” A strangled sound came from her constricted throat.

Behind the captain’s console, a brightly colored drawing covered a large silver wall panel, the green-haired female in the child artist’s depiction sporting a toothy grin.

“Continue smiling and I’ll banish you from the bridge for insubordination,” Gale warned, her words echoing in the empty space, the main viewscreen closed to preserve energy and the ship’s guidance system eerily silent.

Only the primitive crank-powered communicator set by her booted feet crackled. She’d found the ancient device crammed into one of her overstuffed storage chambers and she wished now she hadn’t used it, hadn’t called for help.

“You have to work, baby.” Gale ran her fingers over the power converter, searching for defects and finding none. “Please. I don’t want him on my ship.”

She clasped a fastening tool and frantically tightened each joint, aware that Murad’s ship hovered too close to hers, the Warlord growing increasingly impatient with the delays. He had other things he could be doing, he’d told her, and had only agreed to assist her with the repairs as a favor to Zeta, his brother’s mate.

“If Zeta had contacted me as she’d promised, I wouldn’t be in this mess,” Gale muttered, feeling foolish for having flown across numerous galaxies to rescue a friend who didn’t need rescuing.

“And I don’t require Murad’s or any other being’s help with repairs. I’ll fix my ship myself.” She pressed her hand against the reset panel.

The power converter didn’t activate, the silence ominous.

“No. No. No. No.” She slapped the reset panel again and again, venting her frustration on the device, her palm stinging with the impact.

The ship shuddered and the collection of broken toys covering the console rattled. The hoarded objects had been obtained over the many solar cycles from the bounty-hunter-school students she spent all of her credits supporting.

“Go away,” Gale snapped, the thought of being trapped on a small vessel with an unfamiliar male warrior filling her with alarm.

“I’ll go away once your ship is fully functional,” the Warlord informed Gale via the communicator, his low, deep voice causing her heart to race, a physical reaction she’d long associated with fear. “Prepare to be boarded.”

“I don’t need to be boarded,” she snapped, irritated at Murad’s arrogance and disgruntled with Zeta for forcing her to deal with the strange male, her friend not caring enough to come herself.

Gale pushed away the pain of that rejection and concentrated on the broken power converter. “This is my ship. I’ll fix it.” The lights flickered, the ship’s alternative energy source quickly depleting.

“You’ve had three planet rotations to fix your ship, stubborn female.” Murad punctuated that dry observation with a pussy-moistening chuckle, his constant mirth and her inappropriate physical reaction to it irritating Gale even more. “Now it’s my turn. Open your doors.”

“Open them yourself.” Gale pushed her curvy form upright and scrambled to her feet. Murad would have to open the doors manually, her single-manned ship barely having enough energy to run the life support systems. She dusted off her knees and focused on the new threat.

He’ll come through the bridge’s main doors. Gale surveyed the array of weapons, restraints and defensive devices she always kept close at hand. And when he does, I’ll stop him, preventing him from touching my ship, my home. Sucking in her breath, she strapped her form-fitting pink body armor around her generous chest, preparedness being a bounty hunter’s best weapon.

Zeta might trust Murad. Gale slid guns and daggers into the holders decorating her pink armor-clad thighs, the weapons reassuringly heavy. But she also believes she’s in love with his brother. Clearly she’s not thinking rationally. She crouched by the door, her form shielded by a console.

Love at first sight. She snorted, that fantastical explanation too implausible even for her reckless friend. They must have drugged her.

Metal screeched, the sound muffled by distance, and she raised her favorite gun, aiming toward the closed doors, her body vibrating with anticipation.

“You won’t drug me, Murad,” Gale vowed. She caressed the barrel of the gun with her fingers, relishing the weight and feel of the weapon. The metal was engraved with Lokan flowers and birds, the piece being both beautiful and functional. “You won’t get near me.”

Boots rang against the corridor’s wire mesh floor, the heavy tread announcing the approach of her intruders. Gale’s muscles contracted and she stilled, becoming hyper-aware of her surroundings, every sound and every scent amplified. She smelled the engine lubricant on her skin, heard the rush of air through ventilation shafts, the footsteps of the Chamele warriors as they neared the doors to the bridge.

“Stop,” Gale ordered. She brushed her fingers over the gun’s trigger, prepared to defend herself with force if necessary. “Come in slowly, unarmed, one at a time, with your hands raised and your palms empty.”

“I’m alone,” one of her unwanted visitors growled.

Gale’s nipples tightened, pressing against the restrictive body armor, her body recognizing Murad’s deep tones. “So you say,” she mumbled, maintaining her battle stance, having learned as an orphaned child not to believe in words.

“And I’ll be unarmed in a heartbeat.” A huge sword slid through the entrance, its blade gleaming and its handle intricately engraved, the weapon decorative and deadly. A dizzying assortment of daggers and guns followed the sword, the advanced gear skittering along the floor, metal clinking against metal. “I didn’t know I’d require an arsenal to do you a favor.” Murad’s distinctive laughter rolled over Gale and her stomach fluttered.

With fear. I fear him. Gale flipped her gun’s setting to stun, killing Zeta’s new friend unfortunately not an option. “You’re doing Zeta a favor, not me.”

“This favor is for my brother.” A breathtakingly handsome male stepped out of the shadows. “And his gun is bigger than yours.” He grinned at her, his white teeth flashing in a flawless, tanned face, his black eyes glinting, his long black hair cascading down his bare shoulders. He wore tight leather leg coverings with matching boots, and had a pack slung over one shoulder. His muscular chest was bare, defined and perfect.

This is Murad? Gale’s mouth dried and her heart raced, a pulse of savage want and uncontrollable need coursing through her sex-deprived body. If the two brothers look alike, they wouldn’t have needed to use drugs to enthrall Zeta. My impetuous friend would have gone with Khan willingly, foolishly risking her heart, her life, her future for a fast fuck.

I won’t be as easy to enthrall. Gale straightened, not trusting her emotions and certainly not trusting the big Warlord. “If I shoot you with my smaller gun, you’ll still be dead.” She aimed the gun at him, proud of how steady her hands were, many solar cycles of chasing fugitives across the universes having refined her control.

“That’s true.” Murad’s gaze swept her from head to feet, pausing on her breasts and hips and then returned to her face. “My adorable little bounty hunter.” He inhaled, his chest rising and his nostrils flaring. His mouth twisted into an even sillier smile. “My curvaceous gerel,” he purred, his voice mind-numbingly soft.

He won’t use that sexy voice to capture me. Gale narrowed her eyes, fighting the desire Murad invoked, her lust being a weakness, a weapon he could use against her. “I’m not your anything.”

“You’re correct. You’re not my anything. You’re my everything,” Murad replied, his words infused with passion and sincerity.

He can’t be sincere. He doesn’t know me. “I don’t need your help, Warlord.” Gale caressed the trigger of her gun, her nerves on edge, her body too aware of his. “Please leave my ship.”

A loud click followed her declaration and the lights turned off, casting them in complete blackness. Gale stiffened, unable to detect her adversary. Please let him not have the ability to see in the dark. A wave of panic surged over her.

Murad chuckled, the sexy rumble made more intimate by the darkness. “I see you have everything under control.”

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