Page 29 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

But I didn’t.

Then came the conviction and the exile. And I’d never really been able to claw any semblance of that control back. I alwaysthought that, upon my return to the empire, I’d manage it somehow. Become who I was meant to be.

But I would never return to the empire. Here I would remain, with my eyes white more often than not, working like I was “angry at everything.”

Because I was.

Well, not everything, I realized as my gaze tracked over Jolene’s easy, open face.

“It’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s… What?!” I nearly stammered in reply.

“The way you work.” She tossed her clothes down and flapped her hands up and down at me. “The way you are.”

I gaped at this human, this strange, tailless, trouserless female who stood before my shamefully white eyes and smiled. Who looked upon the most horrifically unacceptable parts of me, who saw straight through the ripped edges of my control, and with clear, guileless blue eyes, told me she was impressed.

Humans are ridiculous.

But there was no bite to the insult. There was only a longing that stole my breath. Left me defenceless as a child. Because maybe her assertion was ridiculous. But I was ridiculous, too.

And she did not seem to care.

Suddenly, I was standing, though I could not say when that had happened, or why. I abandoned the tub, striding to her, stopping only when her protruding belly kept me from advancing further.

“Thank you for the shirt,” she said. “Not quite a perfect fit.” She chuckled, raising her wrists to show me the too-long sleeves she’d rolled up. The shirt itself was also too long for her, the bottom hem of it falling to her thighs. And yet, one part of it was too small. Three of the buttons could not reach each other over the swell of her abdomen. She’d left those ones open, creating agap in the garment that exposed a hand-span of her naked, taut skin.

Without thinking, without even realizing I was doing it until I was done, I slid my wet fingers into the gap, brushing, then palming, the smooth heat of her belly. She gave a gasp, her large breasts heaving with the force of her breath. I could see the dark tips of those soft mounds through the white fabric. The central points grew hard, poking through. Her eyelids fluttered, sending light and shadow dancing beneath her lashes. The dark parts of her eyes – pupils, they were called – bloomed.

I slid my hand lower, popping open another precarious button. My claws brushed soft fluff – her human pubic hair – and my cock responded with an aching throb.

“Zohro.” My name was a throaty caress. “When are we getting married?”

Misery flayed me.

I wrenched my hand away and said, “I killed someone.”

13

JOLENE

“What was that?” I asked dreamily. It was hard to focus on anything beyond the delicious echoes of Zohro’s calloused touch. I was intensely aware of my lack of panties, the dampness between my bare thighs, the deep ache that Zohro had both created and nearly soothed. His fingers had drifted so fucking low, so fuckingclose.I blinked dazedly at him, beathing hard, my whole body tingling.

Zohro’s broad back was to me. But he whirled around to face me once more.

“I said, ‘I killed someone,’” he snarled. “I am a convicted murderer.”

“You… What?”

“That’s right.” He raised his chin, somehow managing to look both imperious and distraught. “I’m a murderer. We all are. You’ve come to a penal colony planet.”

My skin was ice. Shakily, I fastened the button Zohro’s touch had undone.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “You’re… You’re a rancher!” Desperately, I scanned the house, the property. There were no bars. No security features.

“I am incarcerated labour,” he corrected me viciously. “I toil for the empire. Provide them with their precious cattle in exile because they cannot find decent Zabrians who want to do it themselves.”

The “I’m a murderer” thing had been terribly disturbing and disorienting. But it was that last part that really stung. Because Zohro was living the precise sort of life I’d always wanted. The ranching life I loved. And apparently, that was a punishment to him. No decent Zabrian would want it.

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