Forced R and R Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Forced R and R

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

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  Note from Lexxie

  eBooks by Lexxie Couper

  Lexxixe recommends … Renee George

  Excerpt

  “They are gone.”

  Kaden’s low statement drew my stare back to his face and I frowned at him, the fading pulses of my climax still squeezing at his cock. “Gone? I don’t—”

  “The force of my orgasm robbed me of the power to keep them here, in this dimension.” Kaden studied me with those emerald-green eyes of his and I felt the pit of my belly stir. They were gorgeous eyes. A sensual mystery I longed to decipher. “Are you disappointed?”

  I laughed before I could stop myself, shifting my legs until his semi-stiff length buried completely in my pussy. My body told me it had been worshiped. Penetrated like never before, but it didn’t matter. The man holding me, the man who’d stopped me destroying the dimensional-temporal tapestry had somehow become more important. One man. Just one.

  “I understand now.” He brushed the back of his hand down the length of my cheek, his gaze roaming over my face. “Why Den craves you so much.”

  I frowned, even as I enjoyed his tender caress. “Craves me?”

  Kaden ran his thumb over my bottom lip before leaning forward and tracing the same path with his tongue. “You and Den were lovers in his dimension. He has never found pleasure with another since your death.”

  I raised my eyebrows, pulling away from him a little. “My death?” I was repeating things, I know, but you have to allow me some leeway. It wasn’t your normal situation, was it.

  With another gentle kiss, Kaden cupped my face in his hands. “Kad was just along for the ride, but for Den, this was a chance to experience something lost to him forever. You died in Den’s dimension trying to deactivate the Q-42. The battle droid activated a self-destruct mechanism when you attacked and took you out with it, along with most of ‘Port Mercy.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip again. “Your death almost destroyed Den and in turn, he almost destroyed the dimensional and temporal tapestry in his grief. If you were to die in this dimension the same way, there would be no force capable of stopping him.” He smiled, a small smile that stirred the pit of my belly again, despite the revelation he’d just made. “Well, one force.”

  I studied him, all too aware our bodies were still joined in the most intimate of ways. “You.”

  He nodded. “Me.”

  I frowned again. “So all of this was just to stop a single man destroying all of existence?”

  He ran his hands down my back and up to the back of my neck once more. “To start with, yes. And then, when Den and I shared the same dimensional plane, I shared his every thought and memory of you. In that instant connection, I understood exactly why he loved you, loves you still and knew I could never go back from that.”

  Forced R and R

  Spaceport Mercy, Book 4

  Lexxie Couper

  Published 2017 by Book Boutiques.

  ISBN: 978-1-946363-29-9

  Copyright © 2017, Lexxie Couper.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.

  Manufactured in the USA.

  Email [email protected] with questions, or inquiries about Book Boutiques.

  Blurb

  Forced to take a leave of absence by her commander, Galactic Union Enforcer Anika Dru high-tailed it straight away to Spaceport Mercy. What better destination for some unwanted R & R than a veritable cesspit of scum-bucket crooks? Especially for a tech-enhanced super-cop who likes nothing more than taking out the bad guys?

  A mere five minutes on ‘Port Mercy and she’s already spotted her first target. Until a gorgeous, half-naked slave catches her eye. And makes her tech zing. Determined to discover what about the man makes her so…charged…she follows him to an empty sex den, ready to play super-cop one-on-one.

  But Kaden Irrado isn’t a slave. And his meeting with Anika isn’t by chance. Kaden is Phase, a multi-dimensional warrior capable of drawing all of his possible selves into the one temporal plane. He has to stop Anika doing something that will destroy the space-time continuum and he’s planning to do it in the most pleasurable way possible. Even if it takes more than one of him.

  Previously Published

  (2010) Changeling Press

  Acknowledgements

  Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs, Tibbs Design

  Chapter 1

  I hate R and R. Who needs it. I sure as shit don’t. Not just because I’ve had a tech upgrade (thanks to the Galactic Union’s super-secret, Super-Cop initiative), but because seriously, what does one do on R and R anyway? Rest and relaxation? The most relaxing thing for me to do is bust the asses, noses, clavicles, sternums, necks, spines—well, you get the idea—of scum-bucket criminals. And I never rest from relaxing. I don’t want R and R. I don’t need it. I’m a freaking super-cop, for Otyn’s sake. Even before my tech implants I didn’t need it. R and R is for the weak, the pathetic. The lazy.

  But what’s a tech-improved GU Enforcer to do when her commander orders her—orders her—to take a leave of absence? “You’re close to burn out,” he says. “You need some down time,” he says. I tell you what she does. She heads to Spaceport Mercy. Cause honestly, you won’t find a greater horde of scum-bucket criminals in one place anywhere else in IAC space—or any other space, for that matter. If it’s dodgy, chances are it’s at ‘Port Mercy. What better destination for unwanted R and R than a veritable cesspit of crooks?

  A mere two steps into said cesspit and my mouth began to water and my tech began to zing.

  By Otyn. The place was a smorgasbord.

  Striding through the crowded docking level, I catalogued everything I saw. Known slave traders, infamous spice dealers, wanted WMD suppliers, hell, even an IAC-listed terrorist moved freely about their nefarious business, unaware a tech-enhanced GU Enforcer walked amongst them.

  My mouth watered some more. I was going to have a blast. Why hadn’t I taken R and R be—

  I snapped straight, scanning the horde around me.

  One of the upgrades the GU white-coats had so thoughtfully installed in me allowed my tech to detect battle class droids and cyborgs of any design, make and model. That upgrade—millions of microscopic tiox nanobots implanted in my cerebral cortex—now fired into pulsing life. Somewhere on the thoroughfare was a Q-42 battle droid, a highly efficient, volatile and superseded war-class android.

  I searched the teeming masses again, tuning my tech into the Q-42’s energy emission. Q-42s were decommissioned by the GU for a reason. They were dangerous. If one walked ‘Port Mercy it was illegally activated and would need to be shut down.

  My right hand automatically reached for my blaster before I remembered the spaceport’s strict boarding rules—no energy weapons in public places. I wriggled my fingers and forced calm into my muscles. No matter. It would be more fun taking out the droid barehanded.

  Grinning, I scanned the crowd once again, zeroing my gaze in on a giant of a man dressed in combat fatigues not eight feet away.

  Bingo.

  Th
e Q-42 shoved his, er, that should be its way through the packed thoroughfare and I followed. Eagerly.

  As if I wouldn’t.

  Five minutes on ‘Port Mercy and already I was enjoying my R and R. The Q-42 strode though the docking level, pushing people out of its way, its pace quickening. I narrowed my eyes, my stare locked on its towering frame. It seemed to be trying to elude something.

  You?

  The thought had merit. Q-42s were still advanced tech. It was entirely possible a Q-42 operating in human stealth mode—as this one was—could detect the tiox-emissions of my own tech. Possible and, if the case, kinda fun. It would make bringing the battle droid down more challenging.

  I lengthened my stride, dodging more than one scum-bucket, never taking my eyes off the droid.

  Until the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen crossed my line of sight, dressed in nothing but skin-tight black leather pants and a slave collar, his pitch hair tumbling around his shoulders in a tussled mess, his bronzed skin gleaming under the thoroughfare’s harsh lights, his muscles rippling with latent strength.

  Oh, dear gods, he’s delicious.

  My feet stumbled a little and I bumped into a Raavelian hurrying past me. “Watch it, cunt,” he snarled, shoving at my chest.

  Now normally, that kind of antisocial behavior would prompt me to slam the foul-mouthed git to the floor, break his shoulder-blade and threaten to teach him some manners. At this very moment in time however, education was far from my mind.

  My tech was sparking into over-drive.

  So was my pussy. Whoever the slave in the black leather was, every molecule of my existence, both engineered and biological, was reacting to him. Big time. Which made me…curious.

  The last time I’d been sexually attracted to a man, they’d turned out to be a GU Unit Zero assassin gone bad.

  What did it mean when not only my body reacted to the hunk, but my tech implants did as well? What did that make—

  The slave turned his head and looked at me with eyes the color of Old Earth emeralds, the corners of his lips curling. As if he knew something I didn’t.

  My breath left me in a little gasp and the pulse in my neck kicked up a notch, trying to out-throb the pulse in my sex. By Otyn, his stare made me hornier than a Nil Rajan. What could his hands do?

  The slave cocked a dark eyebrow, the grin on his lips stretching wider, and he ran a slow inspection over my body. From head to toe and back up to head. Holy shit, did that inspection make me wet. Damn wet.

  Now here is the problem. I’m a cop. I don’t approve of slaves. I abhor the notion of imprisoning someone innocent just for personal use, to treat them like nothing more than an object, but right at that very moment, I could think of nothing more resting and relaxing than imprisoning the man in the black leather pants and slave collar and fucking him until I was dripping in sweat.

  In case you haven’t figured it out now, I have no problems expressing myself. And I’m not shy. Far from it.

  Forgetting about the Q-42, I titled my chin and fixed the slave with a look I knew spoke volumes: I want to fuck you.

  The slave ran another slow inspection over my body—this one so deliberate I almost passed out—and then turned and walked away. Not even looking over his broad shoulder once.

  I followed. Whatever it cost, I was paying for the man’s services for a good two hours. I’d find the slave’s master after those two hours, arrest him (or her), give them a damn good “education” via my fists and charge GU Command the credits I’d spent procuring the slave’s services as a work expense when I returned to active duty. Three for the sweat of one: fucking, freeing and fighting. Win win, I’d say.

  Pussy sodden in anticipation, I stepped through the narrow door into the dimly lit room the slave had just entered, ready to negotiate a price.

  And felt strong hands grab my wrists.

  Half a second before I was shoved against the wall.

  Chapter 2

  He pressed his body against mine, his hands holding my wrists above my head in a locking grip, his cock—still trapped by skin-tight leather, I assumed—ramming at the crevice between my butt cheeks. The fact I was wearing my own skin-tight leather pants made it all the easier to feel the massive length of his erection. And when I say massive…whoa, my head was spinning.

  “I know what you are, little girl.”

  His deep voice rumbled in my ear like thunder and my pussy constricted. By Otyn, the situation I was in should have made me furious. Instead my sex fluttered again, my breath growing shallow. Nope. Nothing furious about the way my body was reacting to this. Not at all. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was on the verge of coming there and then.

  “What am I?” I asked, squirming beneath his weight. Damn, this was turning me on.

  “Enforcer.”

  The title slipped into my ear, his voice no longer like thunder. Smoke. It was like smoke somehow manifested sound. Husky and smooth at once. Gods, what as I on about? “True,” I panted. My clit was aching. The tops of my thighs were wet. If I were any more turned on, I’d be orgasming. I was damn close, I kid you not. “Are you going to do something about it?”

  “No.” He released his brutal hold on my right wrist and slid his hand down my arm, around my shoulder until his fingers pushed between the wall and my breast. He cupped it, pinching my nipple between his knuckles. “I have other things in mind.”

  “I can see that.” A part of me couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. The rest of me was enjoying the ride. “What exactly?”

  His lips grazed the side of my neck as he squeezed my breast. “This.”

  Okay, at this point the rational side of my brain was fighting like hell to take over. To at least demand who he was and how he knew I was a cop. There had to be a reason. And while we were at the asking questions stage of our relationship (snort), why did he make my tech zing?

  The thing is, the rational side of my brain was losing to the rutting-dog side of my brain. If I wanted to, I could throw him off me and break his neck before he even realized what I was doing (super-cop, remember?). I didn’t want to. I wanted to see where this was going. By Otyn, did I want to see.

  Besides, when it was over, I’d get my answers. And after that, I’d get my bust (slave owner), my takedown (Q-42) and for dessert, find the foul-mouthed Raavelian and educate him in manners. Day One of R and R all wrapped up.

  Starting with gratuitous, nameless sex.

  I pushed my ass backward, rolling my hips enough to stroke his erection between each leather-incased cheek. “Just out of interest,” I said, flattening my palms to the wall. “If you’re a slave, where’s your master?”

  He chuckled, the sound altogether too seductive. “Coming.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “He is?”

  The slave chuckled again. “No. You are. In about ten minutes.”

  My pussy flooded with wet heat. Which was kinda handy, seeing as the second the statement left my mysterious slave’s lips he yanked me away from the wall and shoved his hand down the front of my pants.

  His fingers parted my folds with alacrity, one long digit delving into the cream-slicked channel, the others massaging my pussy-lips. I pressed my palms harder against the cool wall and shoved my ass to his cock, pushing into its insistent length. He groaned, obviously enjoying my blatant approval of his actions, and closed his lips over my earlobe.

  He bit the small, fleshy pad and I cried out, the unexpected pain shot through with singeing pleasure. I’d had a thing for rough sex for just about ever, but since my tech upgrade none of my partners of late seemed to be rough enough. Hell, most of my partners of late were female, and while I’d never say women don’t know how to slap you around, the ones I’d been sleeping with were far from aggressive. My slave however, was aggressive. And it made me wet.

  Really wet.

  Wet enough to fill the small room with slurping sounds as he plunged his finger in and out of my pussy.

  “I knew y
our juices would run for me,” he murmured in my ear, wriggling deeper into my sex. “My mouth waters to taste you.”

  I closed my eyes, rolling my hips so my clit rubbed against the knuckle of his delving finger. “You knew, huh?” The words were almost lost in my panting breath. By Otyn, I was turned on.

  “Of course.” He slid his other hand from my wrist and unceremoniously grabbed my breast, squeezing it through the subtle leather of my flight vest. “It is the one constant of all dimensions.”

  The unusual statement should have made my cop’s instincts kick in. Instead, the only instincts I was interested in at the moment were those belonging to my libido. Even my tech had turned into a low vibrating drone—white noise hidden amongst the aroused blood roaring in my ears. “So I’m famous?” I rasped, closing my left hand over his on my breast to make him maul me harder. “Good for me.”

  He laughed as he dragged his lips down to the curve where my neck becomes my shoulder. “Oh, you are famous, GU Enforcer Anika Dru. For many reasons, not all of them good.”

  At the sound of my name rolling from his tongue, my tech zinged with more force. A warning alarm. I hadn’t told him my name. I hadn’t even registered with ‘Port Mercy security yet, so my name wasn’t in the system. If he knew my name, he knew more than he should.

  I should have listened to my tech.

  I didn’t. My body flushed with more pleasure than it should given our clothed state, I moaned and rolled my head backward, granting his masterful lips greater access to my throat.

  “In every dimension you are the same,” he continued, moving his mouth over my shoulder in a string of tiny nips. “A creature of wild passion and wilder responses. I knew you would be the same in this one.”

  He shoved another finger into my sodden pussy, scissoring it within and I moaned again, driving my ass harder to his cock. Fuck, I couldn’t wait to feel that massive organ stab into me. Fill me. Stretch me to my limit.