Enjoy Chapter three of my alien abduction science fiction
romance, CAPTIVE. Click here to read Chapter One. Click here to read Chapter Two.
An abducted cop and a gladiator prisoner must learn to
trust each other with their lives…and their hearts…to escape their alien
Letting go of the chain, Max sat back on his heels, wanting to
punch himself for his stupidity. He hadn’t meant to frighten her. He just
wanted her to understand the danger. She had started to warm up to him, even
trusted him enough to eat the food he gave her, and now he’d scared her again.
Not the best way to seduce a woman.
Dammit. He didn’t have much time to begin with, and now he’d waste
more by starting over.
“I...um...I need a bathroom.” Her words brought him out of his
He pointed to the corner.
“Nuh-uh. No way. I need a
real bathroom, not a flowerpot.”
Looking at the toilet, he realized she was right. Not only was it
shaped like a giant flowerpot, but it was also that same ugly orange color.
After fifteen years, he’d forgotten how different—how strange—everything
looked. Used to it, he rarely thought about home.
Who was he kidding? He never thought about home. Until now.
He’d spent too long forgetting that life. Yet the best way to win
her trust was to take her mind off this place, this situation.
“You’re right. It does look like a flowerpot. Unfortunately,
that’s the only real bathroom we have.”
Even though he stood at the opposite corner facing the wall, Addy
shielded her body with a sheet. She sat with a painful bladder ready to burst,
but it was no use.
“I can’t go with you standing there.”
“Since I can’t leave, how about I cover my ears and whistle?”
“That might work.”
When he covered his ears, she couldn’t help but notice those
ripped, bronzed shoulders. If the guy had been a sex slave for fifteen years,
how come he was muscular? And tanned? Did the Hyboreans let them outside?
Whistling the beginning of a late eighties power ballad, Max
swayed his head and hips, and his sheet rocked with him. He was awfully happy
and relaxed for being a sex slave. Poor guy. Apparently, he’d accepted this
Well, she didn’t. When she got out of here, she’d set him and
everyone else free.
When she was finished, she hit the button she assumed was the
flusher. A transparent lid whooshed closed, a red light flashed inside, and
everything in the pot disintegrated. She barely heard the whoosh of the lid
opening over Max’s very loud, very high-pitched singing. “I ain’t got time for
“Pretty high-tech toilet for a cult.” She secured her blanket.
He kept on rocking his hips and singing.
Stepping right behind him, she shouted, “Hey, rock star, where’s
When Max turned to face her, he flashed a playful boyish grin, and
her breath caught. She couldn’t help but return the smile. If she weren’t
trapped against her will, being with this gorgeous man wouldn’t be that bad.
He strutted to one of the pitchers, picked it up, and sniffed it before
holding it out to her. The clear liquid had a pungent cleanser type odor. “This
one’s for washing.” He handed it to her, took the other pitcher, sniffed, and
then held it under her nose. This time she smelled nothing. “This one’s for
drinking. Don’t get them mixed up.”
He set the drinking pitcher down and, taking the other one from
her, led her to the “flowerpot.” His large, warm hands positioned hers over the
pot before he poured liquid over them. “Rub them together and let them air-dry.
There’s your sink.” He pressed the button, and the noise ripped through the
“Umm...how about a hairbrush, toothbrush, deodorant?”
“None of that in here. You can take a swig of this, gargle, and
spit. Kills the germs pretty good.”
“But you said not to get the two pitchers mixed up.”
“I said spit, not swallow. Relax. It won’t kill you or anything.
It’ll just give you the— er...stomach problems?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Gotcha. What else can you tell me?” If she pumped him for
information, maybe she could figure a way out.
He set the pitcher down. “How about you tell me something.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Where in Northern California are you
“We’re trapped in a box together against our will, and you want to
“Would you prefer sex?” His devilish grin set his vivid eyes
twinkling with lust. “I would.”
Adrenaline surged within her, but she didn’t retreat. She held his
gaze. “I prefer to get out.”
“You don’t find me attractive?” His wounded tone tugged at her
Manipulative bastard. She decided not to answer. Instead, she
crouched by the fireplace. “What’s that?” Addy pointed to a glowing red cube
the size of a dice behind the dark embers. It was too small to have noticed
He crouched next to her, invading her personal space. “Furnace.”
“That little thing’s a furnace?”
“You’d be surprised,” his intense gaze didn’t leave hers, “how one
little thing can heat up an entire room.”
Uncomfortably aware of the heat between them, Addy cleared her
throat. She peered up inside the fireplace.
“There’s no flue,” he said, though he hadn’t been looking up.
“I can see that.” What kind of fireplace had no flue or at least a
vent? She pulled her head out and scanned the barren walls. “If we got in,
there has to be a way out.”
“There isn’t.” Max threw a log into the fireplace. It immediately
ignited without help from a match or lighter.
What was with all the high-tech gadgetry? And why did he need a
fire if the furnace was red-hot? “Then how did the food get in here this
“There’s a door”—Max stood and pointed to the wall behind her—“but
it’s controlled from the outside.”
She ran her hand along the wall and down its corners, looking for
a crack where the door might be.
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the wall,
and looked at the ceiling, bored. “Do you seriously believe I’ve been stuck
here this long and haven’t already tried everything you’re thinking? I’m
telling you there’s no way out of this room unless they let you out.”
“Has anybody ever escaped?”
“Not from this—”
“I mean from out there. You said we’re only in here until we…you
“Yes, I know. I know very well.”
Ignoring the innuendo, she pointed to the wall. “Has anyone ever
tried escaping from out there?”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Yes.”
Max’s eyes hardened. “He failed.” He strode to the other side of
the space with fists clenched. She heard his intake of breath and the slow
release before singing about having a little patience.
“What happened to him?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“If I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked.”
He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.
Good. If he wasn’t going to help them get out of here, then let
him be frustrated.
“You want to know what happened? He escaped. He got caught. He was
killed. That’s it.” Again, he spoke in that monotone card-game-directions
“You know, you’re a real pain in the ass.” She hoped her anger hid
the terror coursing through her. The cult murdered the people who tried to
escape? She clamped her teeth together to keep her jaw from trembling.
Max sauntered toward her, a knowing smirk on his face. “And you,”
he began in a sultry tone, “are even more beautiful when you’re fired up.”
The sudden one-eighty change in his demeanor caught her off guard.
Her fear-thudding heart now flipped in excitement. He’d obviously practiced
that voice more than a few times.
Max ran a finger up the length of her arm, leaving goose bumps in
its wake. She stepped back. How the heck did he turn on the bedroom eyes that
fast? “Don’t,” she breathed.
“It’s why we’re here.”
“What about your song, ‘Patience’?”
He moved closer. “I ran out.”
She bumped the wall next to the fireplace. The smoke’s unusual
fragrance seeped inside her head, making her dizzy. Or was the dizziness due to
Max, half naked, closing in on her, desire burning in his eyes?
Maybe if she kept him talking, he’d change his mind. “How many
times have you done this?” Idiot. Don’t talk about sex!
Stepping too close, he tilted and bowed his head seductively.
“Enough to know how to satisfy you.”
Her belly quivered. No doubt he told the truth. Heat from the
fireplace coursed through her body, warming her most secret places. She slid
along the wall, her heart thumping like a jackrabbit’s. Her throat dried. She
couldn’t look away from his penetrating eyes. His sleek, muscular body moved
like a bobcat stalking his prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce and
tear into her.
Was it wrong that a small, wild part wanted him to? No doubt the
sex would be awesome.
What was she thinking? It didn’t matter that Max was hot. It
didn’t even matter that her body responded to his sexual prowess. She didn’t
know him, and she didn’t want to have sex for some murderous cult. And she sure
as hell didn’t want to get pregnant by a man who slept with countless women and
fathered— “How many babies have you made?”
He pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No idea.”
“You’ve been a sex slave for fifteen years, and you don’t know if
you have kids?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I were sterile.” He rested his hands on the
wall, trapping her between thick arms.
Anyone emanating masculinity and sex like he did couldn’t be
sterile. His lips, mere inches from hers, tempted her to taste him. Their
breath mingled in sensual intimacy. If she could glance away it might break the
trance, but his gaze held hers captive. She swallowed. “Doesn’t it bother you
to know you have children out there somewhere?”
He paused. A far-off look clouded his eyes. Was he backing down?
With a shake of his head, the lustful eyes returned. “No more
talking. It distracts from the seduction.”
“But I—” His mouth, soft yet powerful, covered hers. Liquid heat
flooded her veins. His lips coaxed hers open, offering a sampling of his
fruit-sweetened tongue. Then, slowly, he withdrew.
Breathless and trembling, she couldn’t move. Her mouth tingled
from his five o’clock shadow. Never in her twenty-three years had anyone’s kiss
equaled Max’s sensuous hunger. Never had her body reacted with this level of
intensity. She couldn’t get any wetter if she stood in the rain.
The room swayed as if she were tipsy. Lightheaded.
His sexy half-smile spoke of unleashed desire. “Don’t be afraid.”
Supercharged, her body revved on the starting line, waiting for
her brain to give the green light. But the signal never changed. Her thoughts
chanted: Sex. Slavery. Selling babies.
He planted soft kisses on her neck.
Shivers shot throughout her body. Her nipples tightened with the
need to be touched. Her head spun with drunken passion. She closed her eyes,
lost in carnal desire. In one swoop, he lifted her into his arms and carried
her two strides to the pillow mattress. The soft bedding cradled her backside.
“Please, Max. I can’t do this. I don’t know you. I don’t love
“None of that matters to the Hyboreans.” He removed the sheet from
his hips, and her breath hitched at the sight of him in all his naked glory.
“Just relax and go with it, and they won’t hurt us.”
She barely had time to register his words before his heavy body
covered hers. His kiss hijacked all thoughts except one. Would sleeping
together really be a bad thing?
He tugged on her toga, slipped a warm hand inside, and brushed his
fingertips up the side of her breast. Goose bumps tingled her flesh, tightening
her nipples. Her body yearned to be explored.
How could she feel this aroused by a man she’d just met?
Sex. Slavery. Selling babies.
Hot, hungry kisses trailed down her neck, throat, and over her
“No,” she whispered.
“We have to.”
“No, we don’t.”
“You don’t understand. Trust me. Just go with it.” His lips were
on hers again, probably to shut her up.
Addy wriggled to get free, but the toga opened, and his erection
pressed hard against her.
Heat radiated from the deep center of her tightening belly. She
barely heard herself gasp above her heart pounding against him. He obviously
thought he could make her change her mind, and perhaps under different
circumstances he could have. Lord knows she shamefully wanted him. It was as if
she were intoxicated with lust.
Wait. Was she intoxicated?
Had he slipped a date rape drug into her breakfast?
She clenched her jaw so tightly it ached. Her ears pounded. Angry
heat coursed through her, waking her from her sexual stupor. “Did you drug me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Get off of me, Max.”
A knee slipped between her thighs, nudging her legs apart.
She couldn’t shove his rock-solid body off. “I said get off, you
Max froze. His dead weight crushed her chest. He looked down in
disbelief, as though he too had awakened from a spell and realized what he was
doing. The next instant he jumped off.
Precious air rushed into her lungs. She covered up with the
blanket and scooted against the wall, putting as much distance between them as
Staring at her, horrified, Max backed to the other side of the
room. He stepped left, then right, then back again, as if he didn’t know in
which direction to go. Not that he could go anywhere anyway.
He kicked the metal bowls and pitchers, launching them into the
walls with a powerful crash. They ricocheted off, painting the room with pink
splatters and black goop. Liquid mixed into the black breakfast pulp and
streaked down the walls like mascara tears.
She pulled the blanket tight and coiled into a ball, crushing her
back against the wall, wishing to melt into it, watching him through dry,
“You’re right. I’m nothing more than an animal.” He back-kicked
the wall with enough force that Addy felt the vibrations on her side of the
He rubbed his hands hard up his face, into his hair, and let his
shoulders fall against the wall. “I can’t delude myself any longer.” Slowly,
his body slid down until he was crouched on the floor. Their gazes met, and for
the first time since he had washed her hands over the flowerpot, he saw not a
sex object, but her. Addy Dawson.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Saying nothing, she stared with what must have been a stupid look
on her face at his distraught eyes. Her heart ached in empathy for him.
Him? Her cheeks flamed. How could she feel
sorry for him?
She had seen his sexual desire. She had felt his strength. She
hadn’t been able to fight him off. The only reason she was whole right now was
because he stopped. He stopped because she called him an animal. It
wasn’t much of an insult, but it apparently hit a nerve.
“I won’t force myself on you,” he said. “I refuse to be their
His eyes filled with anguish she didn’t understand. Anguish that
came from someplace other than his attack. Whatever the cult had done to him in
the past, this incident was merely his last straw.
The muscles in his face hardened with hate. He jumped to his feet
and pounded on the wall. “Listen up,” he shouted to whoever was on the other
side. “I’m through being your goddamn stud. I’m through being your alpha
gladiator. Fuck your consequences. And fuck you.”
Another kick sent the bowl crashing into the wall. “Torture some
other Earthling, you alien bast—”
Zap! Max grunted in pain, clutched his choker,
and stumbled backward. A longer zap, and he fell to the floor, motionless.
A second passed before Addy blinked. A second passed before she breathed.
A second passed before she remembered last night’s paralyzing pain. Fingering
her own choker, she didn’t wish that agony on anyone. Would he be okay?
She heard his labored breaths above her own frightened panting. He
was alive. But was he paralyzed? Blind?
Damn her emergency training. As terrified as she was, she couldn’t
remain clenched up in a tight ball. She had to help him. She leaned forward to
crawl toward Max when a silent blast of cold, white fog surged behind him as if
a smoke bomb had detonated. Instead of inducing a coughing fit or making her
eyes sting, it enveloped her in its icy embrace.
Her heart thundered. Her gut clenched. She shivered from the cold
and fear. Would the cult murder them?
Through the vapor, a monstrous, furry, gray arm reached in,
grabbed Max by the ankle, and yanked his naked body out.
Stay Safe out there!
Romance with a rebel