Page 6 of Matched to the Alien King
One of the crew reached out to him. “Do you need a bigger size—”
“I’m fine, Janice,” he said, swatting her hand away. “This is the size I wear. Things are just…smaller on this planet, that’s all.”
What an odd thing to admit in front of a crowd. Yet no one laughed, not with everyone’s nerves corkscrew tight.
A few seats down from me, the Killian leaned forward and muttered so low to Pete that only the guys could hear. “You’re going to ruin your junk, man.”
“The junk’s fine,” Pete hissed. “Letmeworry about my junk.”
Of all the things I thought I’d hear today, none of it was about Pete’s junk.
“I’m just saying.” The Killian sat back and crossed his bulging green arms. “What if you get a hard-on? There’s no chance that will happen in those jeans, not with them constricting your blood flow like that.”
Nodding sagely, Sal next to me pressed the fingertips of his hands together. “All good things come to those who make room for the boner.”
“Facts, man.” Josh shrugged. “Hard dicks get you laid. Snack-sized ones crushed inside denim don’t.”
Ooookay, enough was enough.
“Go change your fuxxing pants, Pete,” I demanded.
He jerked back like I was going to hit him again, but despite reaching my limit of talking about dicks long ago, I wasn’t planning to.
“I’ll just be a minute,” he said, sprinting toward the stairs. “Janice!”
“We’re losing daylight here,” Umo, the little orange producer, shouted after him.
I sagged back in my seat and groaned. All I wanted was to know my fate—stay here with the damn circus, stay here anyway with Nera and avoid the circus, or take Nera with me to…anywhere. Someplace safe, just her and me, minus that dress of hers.
“King Maxx,” the Killian muttered to me, leaning forward with one eyebrow raised. “I gave you an opportunity. Are you going to take it?”
Take the opportunity to minus Nera of that dress? Hexx yes.
It took a moment for my mind to tug away from that particular image of her and focus on what he was saying—and who he was pointing at.
About ten feet from the platform, standing on the white sandy beach, was a crewmember.Thecrewmember Umo had sent to go search an entire planet for Emjay yesterday. She hadn’t come back—until now.
This might be my one chance to hear if she knew anything more than I did.
Before anyone could try to stop me, I lunged for the platform’s banister, supported my swing over it with one hand, and launched myself to the sand eight feet below. Gasps and groans sounded behind me, but no one bothered to get in my way.
The girl saw me stalking toward her, and she backed away, searching the beach with wide eyes as though desperate for someplace to flee. She was a little stick of a human, no older than her early twenties.
“Where did you go to try to find Emjay?” I demanded, too gruffly.
She shivered as she opened and closed her mouth several times before actual words finally tumbled out. “Well, I looked at the camera drone footage first.”
“And?”
“A-a-and there’s a couple bungalows on the other side of the jungle. The drones saw her go in one.”
“Which one?”
She scrunched up her face to look like a confused little beaver. “Which drone?”
“Which. Bungalow,” I said through gritted teeth.
Patience. Not a thing I had a lot of these days.
