The next male was different.
She blinked once, twice. Her nipples tightened and her pussy grew wet.
He had the same gray skin, black hair, blazing blue eyes. The male carried himself with confidence, striding as though he was the master of all his domain.
But he held no guns, carried no weapons.
He wasn’t a warrior. She stared at him.
An extremely large male followed him. He creaked as he walked, didn’t appeal to her as the non-warrior did.
Her gaze returned to him.
His nostrils flared. He turned his head, appeared to look directly at her.
She froze in place.
How could he see her? She was hidden behind the branches. The mud she’d donned was the same color as the tree bark.
Yet she was certain he had spotted her.
He frowned.
“Is it clear, Rancor?” A female’s voice broke the silence.
She appeared in the doorway. The female had the same coloring as the others, was almost as large as the second male. She sported weapons also.
Kamyelle had never seen a female warrior. Her gaze shifted to the unarmed male. She’d never seen an off-planet male without a gun. Even the human males in the white jackets had carried weapons.
“It’s clear.” The first male, Rancor, holstered his guns. “The lifeforms said there weren’t any other beings on the surface but a warrior could always hope they’re malfunctioning. I missed the last battle.”
“Strain didn’t miss the last battle.” The creaky male grinned. “The C Model picked him up and threw him against the ship. He put a D Model shaped dent in a side panel.”
The weaponless male huffed. He continued to gaze in Kamyelle’s direction but he didn’t say anything, didn’t give any other indication he was aware of her presence.
The other beings, the warriors laughed.
Strain. Kamyelle silently repeated that information. The unarmed male was named Strain.
He had been thrown against a ship…likely because he hadn’t been carrying weapons, hadn’t tried to defend himself. Sympathy swelled in her soul for him.
The male looked tough. His lips were set in a grim white line. His jaw was square and jutted. His profile was hard. His shoulders were wide. His black garment clung to his large muscular form.
But his lack of guns, of blades indicated he wasn’t a warrior.
He was something else.
Her lips parted. That intrigued her.
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About Cynthia Sax
USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
She lives in a world filled with magic and romance. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you,” they will do anything for the women they adore. They live passionately. They play hard. They love the same women forever.
Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research, while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding inspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali, and Chicago.
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