He was her salvation…or her destruction.
The galactic war between the Chiagan-Se and the treacherous Deg’Nara wages on. The human females Leah and the Irish lass Moira are captured and then abandoned, forced to fend for themselves on a barren planet light years from all they know. Their only hope is Sulas, a fugitive breeder slave, who wants nothing to do with them. Survival is chancy at best, but together, the three embark on a perilous journey to rejoin the Chiagan-Se rebels. But can they survive?
Leah ran her hands lightly down the ravaged arm of the male, massaging in a good dollop of the gooey mass she found in his stores. Purpling bruises highlighted by a scaly red rash covered the hand and forearm, the most virulent centered near the puncture wound on his palm. Ugly and suppurating, she cringed at the imagined pain the male must be experiencing, though his skin did feel cooler to the touch. She sniffed her fingers. The blue stuff smelled like antiseptic and seemed to soothe him as she lathered it on. Could be toothpaste for all I know! But the redness eased somewhat after the application. The raging fever had dropped in the past few hours and his restless ranting and raving had diminished. Beneath her exploring fingers, the massive muscles bunched and rolled as if escaping her tender touch. As she rubbed the concoction into his wrist area, his hand twitched and a low moan of pain escaped his lips.
No male should have lips like those! Made for mind-shattering lip locks and other nasty things…. Her libido pinged. Stop it girl! Just what I don’t need to be thinking about right now! He’d made it very clear even in his delirium how he felt about the human females. Shaking herself, she continued the massage, working the gel into the elegant, work-roughened fingers. He exhaled a long sigh as if relieved. The eyelids twitched. The curling white lashes fluttered. Vibrant blue peeked through the half-closed lids. As the unfocused eyes cleared he jerked, catching her hand in a vise-like grip.
“Don’t touch me,” he growled before he shoved her hand away. Rolling to his side, he pushed himself to a sitting position. “The hands of a Deg’Nara whore sicken me!”
“Why you ungrateful asshole…!” she gasped, outraged by the red marks ringing her wrist. She threw the tube of gel at his face, secretly pleased when it bounced off his cheek. She flounced to her feet, arms akimbo as she fumed. “Moira and I’ve been taking care of you round the clock and that means changing your diapers and cleaning you up afterwards! You think we enjoyed it, you thankless piece of shit? Not hardly! And I told you, I’m not a Deg’Nara, so quit with the rude crap.”
He brushed a hand across his jaw, the blue eyes flaring with disdain. “You may not be Deg’Nara but you came from one of their ships! You’re either a spy or just another piece of trash they had no further use for.” The well-formed lips curved in a sneer. “I value you even less than they.”
Link to New Concepts Publishing:
P. L. Parker
Romantic Adventure at its Best