CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(50)

I am also extremely partial to aliens, the kind who like to abduct humans and then drive them insane...with pleasure.

Or do you like something a little darker, more serious? Then check out  my cyborgs whose battle with humanity have captivated readers worldwide.

If you'd like to know more, read some excerpts or find out what I'm  working on, then please visit me at http://www.EveLanglais.com

Other Alien Abduction Books by Eve Langlais

Intentional Abduction

Dual Abduction

Mercenary Abduction

Heroic Abduction

Alien Mate

Alien Mate 2

Alien Mate 3



A science fiction romance series you might enjoy, Cyborgs: More Than Machines:

C791



F814

B785

Aramus

Seth



Looking for shapeshifters instead? Check out some of Eve's bestselling series:

F.U.C (Furry United Coalition)

Freakn' Shifters

Pack



Kodiak Point



# # #





Jaguar's Rule

T. J. Michaels

After an irresistible night of passion with Reya, Aaron James longs to  hold her close forever. Little does he know that the tall, sleek beauty  has a carnal secret-and he's the one who needs protection.

Copyright 2014 T. J. Michaels

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

About The Author

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Prologue

"Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is Gulfwing Foxtrot X-Ray Miami Miami.  Position approximately one hundred miles west of Belize City. Dropping  altitude from thirty thousand to eight thousand feet. Speed, four  hundred twenty-nine miles per hour. Throttling back. Heading unknown.  Struck by lightning, fire on left engine. Some instruments offline.  Ditching aircraft. One person onboard. Gulfwing Foxtrot X-Ray Miami  Miami, over!"

"Mayday, Gulfwing Foxtrot X-Ray Miami. This is air traffic control at  BZE Goldson International in Belize City. Your position is approximately  forty-two miles west of Dangriga Airstrip. Will alert them of your  emergency."

"Roger that, BZE, but I don't think I'm going to make it. I … "

Static.

"Come in, Gulfwing Foxtrot Miami Miami X-Ray. Mayday, Gulfwing Foxtrot Miami Miami X-Ray, please respond."

Silence.





Chapter One

The big male swatted at the female's head but missed. She'd eluded his  huge paw, jumped to the side of the unconscious human lying face down on  the ground, his blood mingling with the wet grass. The female crouched  again, ready to spring and prepared to fight for the human. He didn't  doubt he could take her, but the set of her powerful shoulders and the  gleam of the moonlight off her bared canines made him think twice. He'd  seen this particular female before, often out in the jungle. None of the  other males ever approached her. Perhaps she was a formidable foe?         

     



 

But he wasn't just another male. He was a prime of his species, a  jaguar, a fully grown panthera onca who always got what he wanted. He  decided he wanted her.

She thought he was after the body she guarded. Good, let her. He would  back off for now, taking the opportunity she'd unknowingly given him to  watch her closely and see just what kind of female he was dealing with.  But he had no doubt that in the end, she would find herself underneath  him while he thrust with powerful strokes into her body. Oh yes, she  would yield. He would see to it. And perhaps afterward, he would keep  her.



Uhhnnn, owww. Aaron was sure someone had split his head open and used a  metal baseball bat to work sand into the wound. And those voices! God,  why wouldn't they just shut up? The buzz overlaying the words of whoever  needed to shut up drilled through his brain.

Each breath sucked into his lungs felt shallow, as if he couldn't drag  in enough air, and every breath out left behind a tight burning  sensation. Why couldn't he take a deep breath and hold it? Pain this  intense could only mean one thing-he was dying.

The voices were louder now. Damn it. Ready to glare at the people  talking when his head pounded like a drum at a rock concert, he was  somewhat surprised at the gritty feel behind his lids as he forced them  open. He blinked then blinked again, but the blurry images wouldn't  clear. They just moved back and forth in the dimly lit room. The sound  of a million cawing birds filled his ears, and the sweet scent of wet  grass floated on a cooling breeze across his skin. His bare skin. Did  they have bare skin in the hereafter?

He blinked a few more times, wincing as the side of his head exploded  with a new round of pain. And who was the bearded old man leaning close  to his face? He wanted to lift his hand to smack the man and tell him to  back up a bit. The garlic on his breath made Aaron's stomach lurch but  the pounding in his head was so fierce, just the thought of blowing  chunks made him grit his teeth to hold back the bile while the vein in  his forehead threatened to burst. The old man was speaking. What?  Sounded something like mud, or blood, or … he just couldn't make it out,  his thoughts were too scrambled. Oblivion had been pretty sweet compared  to this. Perhaps he could slip back into it?

But not before he caught a glimpse of the angel standing just behind the  garlicky old man. Now he remembered, sort of. Lightning. His plane had  gone down in the jungle after the engine under the left wing caught  fire. The image was blurry but he knew an angel when he saw one. Was she  here to take him to heaven? He was sure he'd done at least a few good  deeds to warrant making it through the pearly gates.

This angel had milk chocolate skin and a set of piercing, almond-shaped,  light gray eyes that made his pulse skip a beat or two. And her hair, a  shoulder-length mane any woman would kill for. Thick and curly, it hit  her shoulders at the perfect length and made his fingers want to reach  out and touch the silky black-as-sin tresses before he floated away to  the hereafter. The image of his angel wavered.

"Wait! Come back, beautiful! Can't we spend some time? Maybe talk awhile  before I leave this plane?" Could she hear his urgent whispers? Of  course she could, all supernatural beings had great hearing. So why  didn't she respond? Instead, she just looked at him with a strange mix  of pity and irritation. What the hell kind of angel was she anyway? She  was supposed to be smiling at him, preparing him for his journey. Well,  she obviously wasn't interested in doing her job. Maybe if he lodged a  formal complaint with God, she'd get fired.

The garlic master was back. His stomach lurched. Damn it, old man, he  shouted in his head, and immediately regretted the ferocity of his  thoughts. Now his neck, shoulders and ribs joined his head, pounding  relentlessly against his skin from the inside out.

The older man stuck him on the top of his hand with something and the  beauty faded away fast, but not before he got a good glimpse of the  swell of the angel's breasts and the curve of her shoulders. Since when  did cherubs wear tank tops? It sure looked good on her. And how could be  he in so much pain and still manage to achieve a hard-on? Damn, she's  sexy, he smirked at himself as his eyelids fluttered closed. Hell, even  in his state of impending death, he was thinking with his cock instead  of his brain.

I'm no better than the half-assed angel, he thought as sleep claimed him.



Reya followed Dr. Matons out of her bedroom and closed the door with a  quiet snap. After brewing herself a cup of tea, she joined her old  friend out on the screened veranda and plopped down in her favorite  plastic patio chair. The smell of the passing storm was heavy in the  air, along with the scent of charred wood and jet fuel. In spite of the  evening's hair-raising events, she was calm and determined.

Vanilla and clove scented smoke floated up from Dr. Matons' pipe. She  should have never asked her Aunt Sulu to send the stuff. Now the old  curmudgeon would never again settle for the local tobaccos.

"Well, our little patient was lucky tonight," Dr. Matons drawled around his pipe.

"Little patient?" Reya queried with amusement. She was sure she'd never  met a man so long his feet practically hung off the edge of her bed, or a  more muscularly perfect specimen as the one lying in her bedroom. She  and Dr. Matons had spent the past several hours removing glass and  plastic from various patches of skin. They'd stitched the deeper cuts  across his back, wrapped his chest tightly and cleaned off all the  blood. She'd seen every inch of his magnificent body and there was  nothing, and she meant nothing, little about him.

"It's a good thing you were out on patrol when his plane went down. I  don't know if he would have made it otherwise," the doctor said, blowing  out a ring of thick smoke. "He is certainly handsome, as men go." His  eyes crinkled at the sides as he watched her. The old matchmaker. Always  looking for someone to pair her up with. Even an unconscious man in  serious condition.

When she didn't answer but stared out into the night, he continued. "I  gave him a strong painkiller, but he's not out of the woods. Do you mind  if I sleep here so I can check on him during the night?"