The male went pale, all the blood draining from his face as he backed up muttering apologies. Cade waved in dismissal and plunged past him, following the scent of his delectable little mate.
He would find her, no matter what it took…
It had been a hell of a day, but by the time Elise had packed up and taken the subway back to the city, she found herself antsy and unable to rest. Knowing there was no way she would sleep easily tonight, she changed quickly and headed out.
Her small apartment was near one of the busy areas of the city, tucked away at the top of an apartment block, so she was high enough to get away from the general noise but still within easy walking distance of her favorite clubs and bars, even in the vertiginous heels she preferred.
An hour later found her cradling a violently neon green cocktail. Taking a sip, she let the sweet, artificially chemical liquid slip down her throat and then nodded in approval and lifted her glass to Trent, the bartender. He grinned happily. She was his go-to girl for testing new cocktails, which also meant that unlike most of the cocktails served in the Luna Lounge, hers would have been made with the good stuff, not the pseudo-alcohol the owners usually used. Didn’t mean hers was real alcohol, just a better grade of p-alc. The only time she’d tasted the real stuff was during official functions on the base.
But Trent was a good mixer and her drink wasn’t bad. At least she knew they used quality stuff that wouldn’t land her in an emergency room needing a liver transplant.
Humming happily to herself, she turned on her stool, drink in one hand as she studied the clientele in the club. It was packed, a writhing, heaving mass of people on the sunken dance floor. That wasn’t surprising on a Friday night, especially this close to the end of the month. Everybody was flush with credit chips from their pay packets.
She let her gaze wander, eyeing up the male talent.
Her plan for tonight was simple. Find a hot guy. Take him home. Bang his brains out. If she was lucky, she could score one who looked a little like that sexy alien on base.
She sighed and took another drink. It wasn’t like she could have the alien hottie himself. First, because of her security clearance and position as Cam’s personal assistant, it would be a terrible conflict of interest to hop into bed with one of the aliens.
Second, the only way she could do that would be if she was in the mate program and had qualified for the testing phase. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t eligible because Josh refused to sign the divorce papers. She hissed and took another drink. Trust her fucking ex to ruin her life again.
She completed a full scan of the club but came up disappointed. It wasn’t the lack of attractive men. She saw plenty and more than one was eyeing her up with interest. The trouble was one particular man had crawled under her skin and taken up residence… the handsome alien warrior back on base.
She let her mind wander back to watching him on the monitors earlier. Fuck, he was as sexy as hell, and she didn’t even know his name. No way should she even give him a second thought.
Taking another sip of her drink, she let the fluid burn its way down to her stomach. Unfortunately, even though common sense should prevail, and she should put the sexy alien warrior from her mind, it wasn’t quite that easy. It was like he was buried in like a tick.
Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t even need to close her eyes to bring him to mind. She’d always had a good imagination, but tonight it excelled itself and brought the alien warrior to life right in front of her. He leaned against a high table on the edge of the dance floor less than twenty feet from where she sat, a drink in his hand.
The lights reflected off his hair, giving him a multicolored halo. Among the Lathar, he’d looked young and out of place, but among humans it was an entirely different matter. Compared to the rest of the clubgoers, he was tall and broad, heavily muscled and looked as dangerous as fuck. Like chaos born and bred, dressed in leather and sin.
She shook her head. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. No way could a Latharian warrior stand there, in full combat leathers, and not get a second glance. Well, he was getting a second glance, and a third, and a fourth… All of the women around him reacted to his presence like flowers opening up for a morning sun.
A tall blonde approached him, her hand on his upper arm as she leaned into whisper in his ear. Jealousy surged through Elise, her grip tightening on her glass enough to make the plasti-glass creak. The alien just smiled and shook his head, obviously turning down whatever she’d suggested. She moved on, a pout on her scarlet-coated lips.
Elise’s eyes widened in shock. He was here.
Like… live and in the flesh. He shouldn’t be here, but he was.
How the fuck had he gotten out of the base? It was high security, locked down six ways to Sunday. No way could he have gotten out, but he had.
Before she could move, noise from near the entrance of the club caught her attention. Her heart sank she spotted Phillip Courtney, her ex’s asshole best friend, and a gang of his buddies. They were loud and riotous at the best of times. At the worst they were the soldierly version of a street gang with anger management problems and issues with authority. And their security clearances and uniforms just made them all the more dangerous.
She’d never been able to prove it, but she suspected Phillip was in neck deep with Terra First, a terrorist organization who hated anyone not born on Earth. Until recently their vitriol had been aimed squarely at those humans who hadn’t been born on humanity’s home planet, but recently they’d started banging the drums about the Lathar and countless other alien races that humanity now knew were out there.
But Phillip was clever. An adjutant to one of the generals on the base, he’d so far kept his nose clean. She had nothing on him, and it wasn’t for want of looking.
Holy shit. If they realized a Lathar was in here, away from the safety of the base, they’d kill him. Eyes still wide in shock, she stumbled off her bar stool and headed toward the alien as quickly as her heels would allow.
He registered her at the moment she stepped right into his personal space, getting up close and cozy like they were already lovers. Her hand brushed his rock-solid abs as she leaned. The scent of his cologne hit her, some intoxicating mix that reminded her of cold winds and snow storms.
“If you want to live, follow my lead,” she whisper-shouted into his ear over the din of the music.
Thankfully, he didn’t argue. He just slid his big hand into hers and followed her so closely she felt every inch of his lean, hard body against hers. She wound them through the crowded dance floor, to the center and then turned to step into his arms. He beat her to it, an unreadable expression on his face as he slid a hard arm around the back of her waist and pulled her up against him.
Her breath escaped her lungs in a rush. She was pressed against him, breast to hips. Fucking hell, he wasn’t just ripped… his muscles were like steel. Her knees weakened in appreciation and she was forced to will them to stay upright, or at least not fall into a little puddle at his feet and have him realize the effect he had on her. But the way his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened, she suspected he already knew. Dammit, the Lathar weren’t telepathic. Were they?
Then he started to move, and any ability she’d had to think scattered to the four winds. Holding her closely, he kept one big hand on the back of her hips and slid a thigh between hers. He didn’t dance, he fucked in an upright position, rocking his hips against hers on a sinuous movement that fired her blood, and hijacked all her feminine instincts. Tilting his head forward a little, he looked down at her, and she had to bite back a whimper. It was such a look of erotic challenge she couldn’t help but react, sliding her hands over his heavily muscled chest beneath the open leather jacket.