So good in fact, she delayed their departure to show him how much she liked his mercenary look.
Tren wanted to bang his head off a wall, maybe punch a few things, and he definitely wanted to kill something. A smart male would have annihilated the female strutting along beside him, but dammit, he admired her spirit, worshiped her body, and grudgingly liked her. Even stranger, he got a feeling she liked him back. Sure, she didn't know everything about him, such as his reputation as the universe's most renown mercenary. However, he got the feeling it wouldn't matter one whit to her. She acted like a queen-demanding and imperious. Strangely, he enjoyed it. Enjoyed her, both in and out of bed. Not that he'd admit it out loud. She'd use that information against me for sure, he thought with a grin.
He still hadn't changed his mind about selling her; however, he'd decided to keep her for a longer portion of his voyage, his twisted logic dictating he'd get a better price for her nearer his home world. He also selfishly intended to enjoy as much of her naked body as he could until that time. It surprised him that he hadn't tired of her yet; actually, he still fought the urge to mark her each time she exposed her neck. Obviously, he'd caught some kind of space illness because he even looked forward to her harangues and attempts to hurt him, her feisty nature calling to something in him. Not that he let her get away with her bouts of violence and vocal displeasure. Of course his method of punishment-extreme screaming pleasure-might have had a lot to do with the fact she didn't let up in her attempts to drive him insane.
Crazy human. My human. The possessive thought almost stopped his heart, and he must have uttered something because she peered back at him to ask, "You alright?"
Grunting in reply, he blamed his strange thought on the fact he was taking his merchandise for a walk and would probably need to protect it. I should add liar to my list of skills.
Tren kept one hand on his holster as they exited the docking tunnel into the main part of the way station; a jumbled mess of buildings meshed together and covered by a dome on an asteroid circling a weak star. It was the only space station in this section of the galaxy, and one he tended to avoid because of its surcharges and ratty denizens. Given they'd sustained some minor damage during their hyperspeed flight and he still had a rear thruster in need of repair, it made sense to take advantage of the services offered here, even if the prices ranged into the obscene.
Although, not as obscene as the leer thrown Megan's way by the one eyed Kharnqiop who added to his disrespect by drooling. Tren didn't like it one bit. Stepping behind Megan, Tren bared his pointed teeth in a snarl that promised violence and extreme pain. The creature clamped its mouth shut, dropped its dozen eyes and shuffled off, probably to spread the word he'd arrived.
Good. Teaching lessons to the hot heads who'd come crawling from the corners of this cesspit would keep him entertained while he waited for the repairs. Yet another reason he'd retired. Covert operations were harder to manage when everyone knew your face and, in an attempt to gain recognition, kept attacking-and dying. At least their feeble attempts to take him out since retirement kept him in practice. Having Megan along to protect would add an interesting element, though. I'll kill anyone who touches her. For business, of course. Damaged goods wouldn't fetch a nice price. He wondered how she'd feel about up close and personal violence.
Probably cheer if she thought it would benefit her.
The thought made him smirk.
He let her lead the way, which amused him since she had no idea where to go, but she faked it well with her head held high, stalking like she owned the place. Spilling out into the main thoroughfare, crowded with beings from a multitude of races, she finally halted. He moved to stand beside her, his presence claiming her without words as his property.
He let her look around with wide eyes before he nudged her in the direction they needed to go. "Stop gawking. You look like fresh meat."
"Well, excuse me for suffering some culture shock. It's one thing to meet you, you kind of look human. But this," she inclined her head. "That's freaking wild."
Tren tried to view it for a moment from her perspective, the scene before them one he'd seen a hundred times before. Beings of all shapes, sizes, colors and in possession of appendages in the single to double digits roamed the marketplace. Normal stuff. He shrugged. "You'll get used to it. Now come on. We need to get the work order in before the first ones arrive."
"First what?"
Tren didn't bother answering, he just took off at a brisk walk, and after a moment's hesitation she followed. But, of course, she didn't walk behind him in a position of subservience. She placed herself on his left and with her lips tight, pretended an aloofness he could tell by her tight body she didn't feel. Frukx, but he admired her spirit.
Locating the grungy office of the service station, he sauntered in and slammed his fist down on the counter. A familiar face came scurrying in from the back. Tren sneered as the creature blanched. He relayed his instructions on repair to the three armed mechanic who bobbed his head in deference. Tren made sure to keep one eye on Megan who prowled around with way too much curiosity in her eyes. She also looked much too enticing in his oversized shirt, the sway of her breasts entirely too visible.
Tren growled and the mechanic stepped back, swallowing hard with all five of his mouths. He fixed his gaze on the creature. "I expect it done within one astral unit."
"But the other clients-"
Tren leaned forward and grabbed the mechanic by the neck. "Do you need to lose another arm?" Annoyed at the exorbitant rates they'd charged him last time, and the scratch they'd put on his hull, Tren had displayed his displeasure in a way that left a permanent impression.
Frantic head bobbing answered him and Tren released the alien, a sudden prickling on the back of his nape making him whirl. Megan no longer lurked the shop, having stepped out into the thoroughfare.
And of course, she'd found trouble.
Chapter Eight
"Unhand me right now," Megan demanded, hiding her fear behind false bravado. Not an easy task considering the slimy grasp of the blue octopus holding her wrist.
A gurgle she suspected passed as a chuckle made her grimace. "That was totally gross. And I said let me go." When the alien creature ignored her and started tugging, her sandaled feet sliding, she got mad.
"You must be a male under all that disgusting goo." She pulled out a chopstick saved from one of their dinners. After seeing Tren's own preparations, she'd tucked it into her pants in case of an emergency. This certainly counted. She jabbed the oversized needle into the tentacle holding her. The icky alien squealed as it released her. Megan took a step back and bared her teeth in a grimace as she waved her makeshift rapier at it.
Its eyes, all half dozen of them, fixated on something behind her. It shrieked again, even louder, as a big, familiar body rushed past her. Tren picked up the extraterrestrial as if it weighed no more than a feather and threw it against a corrugated wall. It hadn't even begun sliding down, leaving a slimy trail, when Tren pulled out a pistol and fired.
A great big hole appeared in the middle of the creature while Megan watched with her jaw dropped low enough to hit her toes. Given she could have stuck her hand through the octopus thingy without touching its insides, she presumed it was dead.
Tren holstered his gun and turned to face her. The dangerous glitter in his eyes and the tenseness of his face sent a jolt of pure desire through her. Oh my god, I think that was the single most, hottest thing any man has ever done for me. She ignored the fact she'd just about saved herself before he'd arrived. She admired the way he took charge and protected her.
"You are uninjured?" he asked, his clear blue eyes checking her up and down.
"Slimed, but fine. You know, I'd just about taken care of him," she announced as she held up her chopstick.
A smile tugged his lips. "Yes, you did. I just made an example of him to warn others away. You are not upset I killed it?"
She shrugged. "I might have felt different if it were a human you just shot a cannon through, but I never did care for seafood."
He snorted, tried to stop it, but couldn't. He laughed aloud, a mirthful sound that proved contagious and she joined him. She vaguely noticed that some of the alien folks walking by stopped to gape at them, but she paid them no mind. Tren owned the most awesome laugh and she got the impression he didn't use it often. It pleased her to know she'd caused it even if unintentionally.
"Stow your vicious weapon, my feisty barbarian. We wouldn't want to frighten the shop owners into closing before we can purchase some items."
Megan tucked the chopstick into her waistband before sauntering off. "Shopping. Cool. Think we can find some more shoes? I'd love to find some steel-toed combat boots in my size. These sandals suck for kicking balls with."