Deep Penetration; Alien Breeders I by Stacey St. James Read Free Book Online Page A

she wouldn’t have anything if she decided to take her
chances and flee the tender mercies of the Anunnaki. “I’m used to
them now,” she lied.
    His lips tightened. “Remove
them.”
    Rebellion flickered through her, but
she bent down and pulled them off, returning her borrowed boots
ungraciously by throwing them down. “I suppose you want the suit,
too?” she asked tightly.
    “ Don’t pretend to
misunderstand me,” he growled. “Why the fuck didn’t you say
anything? Your feet are raw and this is not the sort of place you want to
pick up an infection! The micro organisms have had generations to
outstrip any immunities you might have!”
    Snatching her off her feet, he swept
her up into his arms as if she was no more than the child he
referred to her as. Emerald would’ve tried to thwart him if he
hadn’t pounced on her too fast for her to grasp his intentions.
“Put me down! I can walk!”
    “ You aren’t going to,
though,” he growled, striding so swiftly down the corridor that the
stir of air whipped her hair around her face.
    As little as she liked to
admit it, even to herself, the man was intimidating beyond his
size, as if that wasn’t intimidation enough! She felt as if she was being
hauled away by a giant and the really unnerving part was that that
wasn’t all that far from the truth. She had only to look at his
face at such close range, the ‘wall’ of his chest, and the size of
the arms and hands coiled around her to feel like a pigmy. She was
far enough from the floor in his arms for her belly to quiver with
a fear of heights she hadn’t even realized she had.
    It went way beyond being made to feel
‘dainty and feminine’, maybe mostly because there was nothing at
all lover-like about his hold or his manner. His attitude was more
like an angry parent furious with childish stupidity that had
resulted in an injury.
    It cowed her, wilted the brief flare
of rebellion. Even that analogy wasn’t accurate, she realized with
dismay, because parent and child implied affection and concern and
his only concern was that she’d damaged one of the guinea pigs
they’d worked so hard to resurrect. She wasn’t at all surprised
when they arrived at his destination and she discovered it was a
med-center. He spoke to the man who seemed to be in charge and then
plunked her down on a gurney unceremoniously.
    The man, who was clearly a doctor,
lifted her feet one by one and examined the raw spots with an
expression tight with disgust. Feeling chastised when he flicked a
glance at her face and moved away, Emerald didn’t attempt to object
when he returned with a small basin to catch the fluids he pored
over her feet. Whatever it was stung like fire on the raw, bleeding
patches, though, and it took all she could do to maintain a façade
of stoicism. The pain brought tears to her eyes and a knot to her
throat. When he’d finished torturing her with the fluid fire, he
dabbed some sort of pasty goop on the spots and then wrapped her
feet with something similar to gauze. She braced herself when he
left and returned with something that looked a lot like a syringe,
but discovered that, at least, wasn’t painful. It felt more like a
puff of air when he pressed it to her arm than a shot.
    Tariq listened in grim silence as the
doctor spoke to him in their language and then scooped her up
again. She had to suppose his anger had worn itself out since he
didn’t seem to be in nearly as much of a hurry to return her to her
cabin as he’d been before, and she simply didn’t believe he’d been
in a such a rush to get her to a medic over nothing more ‘life
threatening’ than blisters, raw or not. Anger had set the
pace.
    She would’ve almost preferred it as
they left again. She wanted to be alone and the sooner the better.
She was tired and she felt battered and emotional from the things
she’d learned, Tariq’s anger, and the doctor’s complete disregard
for whatever pain he might be inflicting. It seemed to