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Blurb:
She’s into virtue. He’s not. On a pleasure asteroid, he’ll show her what paradise really is.
Genre/theme: Sci-fi, romantic comedy
Copyright © Tina Donahue, 2016
Excerpt:
2116 AD
Desexo 69,
pleasure asteroid at end of Milky Way
Hunter
Sloane teleported into Buzz, the last
stripper-gin joint before the unchartered universe. The establishment’s owner
had contacted the Federation about trouble here, wanting it stopped pronto, the
perp in question caught and disposed of…preferably in deep space.
No
one demanded action and retaliation like business owners pissed they’d lose
profit.
To
Hunter, everything appeared normal. Thunderous music in here and solar flares
outside, rattled the building and shook Martian dust from his leather jeans and
combat boots. Purple, orange, and red laser lights pumped in time with the
raucous tune. Quadruple X-rated movies played on the walls.
Maybe
he had the wrong place. He activated the databank on his wrist. This location
proved accurate.
The
capacity crowd partied hard.
Humans,
aliens, cyborgs, androids, and beings Hunter couldn’t identify performed
stripteases on the many stages or boogied their hearts out on the dance floors
below. Those who were still dressed sported garish hair, makeup, and clothing,
the peacock colors meant to entice sexual partners. No problem there.
Contorting bodies filled all available space.
Musk,
sweat, perfume, booze, and pleasure drugs thickened the air.
“Hey,
doll.” A female alien covered in brown-and-gold body hair sidled up and cupped
his balls. “What’s your pleasure?”
He
shouted as she had. “Careful.” He eased her talons from his nuts. “I’m looking
for trouble.”
Her
wide smile bared her elongated canines. “You’ve come to the right place.” She
fondled her breasts and licked her black lips. “There’s a free table over
there. It’s got our names on it.”
“Sorry.
I’m here on official business.” He brushed past. Yellow and green spotlights
swept patrons. He craned his neck.
Something
white flashed within the gaudy colors.
His
quarry. Security cameras had captured her the moment she’d stepped into this
place. The facial recognition databank provided her name and other particulars.
He
shouldered through the throng, sidestepped those screwing in ménages or groups,
and stopped at a booth near the back.
The
young woman didn’t notice him. Bent at the waist, she shouted at the human
couple humping on the table. “Please, just listen to me for a minute.”
They
kissed and fucked.
She
gestured frantically. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
On
a loud bellow, the guy climaxed. The woman shrieked happily.
No
one had to tell them how to have fun.
Hunter
stepped closer and yelled above the noise. “Melody Prudence Patience Carlyle.”
She
flinched and whirled around.
He
forgot what he’d intended to say.
Bluer
eyes than hers didn’t exist in this universe. She’d pulled her flaxen hair into
a prim braid that dangled over her lush breasts and swayed above her narrow
waist. She wore no makeup. Didn’t need any. Inner heat tinted her cheeks and
lips a deep rose that enhanced her sweet features. Musk suffused her clean
fresh scent.
Warmth
rolled through him. His cock thickened, balls tightened, both ready for action.
Unfortunately,
her startling white body suit bore two large letters in red that killed his
carnal high. Her kind had no business being in this joint, her presence a class
AAAA felony and why the owner had alerted the authorities.
She
lifted her face. “Yes?”
Her
expectant, guileless look stole every word Hunter knew. Given the heathens in
here, she was beyond different. “Ah, Melody Prudence Patience Carlyle?”
Unnecessary to ask again since she couldn’t be anyone else, but it was all he
could come up with.
She
frowned. “No.”
He
didn’t understand. The description on the alert fit her perfectly, including
her cute white boots. “Then who are you?”
“Modesty.
Not Melody. Who are you? Wait.” She took in his height, black leather jacket,
jeans, and the jagged scar on his left cheek. Hope lit her lovely features.
“You’re the bouncer, right?” She pointed at the couple who’d resumed their
carnal play. “They won’t listen to me. Get them to stop. Please. After you’re
through with them, you can keep the others in line.”
The
Milky Way’s combined armed forces couldn’t corral this randy group. “Sorry,
darlin’, I’m Hunter Sloane, an enforcer, not a bouncer. I’m here to arrest
you.”
She
blinked rapidly. “What?”
“You’re
from the Purity Patrol.” He gestured to the embroidered PP above her boob. Her
nipples had tightened. Nice. “Your group isn’t allowed to proselytize here or
anywhere in the galaxy for that matter. You’re messing with everyone’s good
time.”
Prolonged
moans and excited shrieks rang out. Music roared. Deafening bass pounded. Its
frenzied beat matched his hammering heart.
Her
pale eyebrows shot up. “Ruined their good time? Since when?” Her gesture took
in the room. “No one’s listened to me.”
Good
thing. If she’d converted them to her group’s chaste ways that would have added
decades to her sentence, each figured separately per person and alien. Cyborgs
and androids didn’t count. “I’m referring to the laws you’re breaking by being
here and disrupting pleasure. To even think it is a crime.”
“Since
when?”
“More
than fifty years ago. Surely you’ve heard.” Ignorance of the law was no excuse,
but might make the tribunal go easier on her.
“No,
I haven’t heard anything.” She fingered her braid. “I’ve been in cryogenic
hibernation aboard the ark. It crashed here two days ago.” Tears welled in her
eyes. “I’m the only survivor.”
He
knew that already from her profile.
She
shrugged off her sorrow. “Before I left my fallen friends, I promised to do my
duty and keep their quest alive.” She squared her shoulders and squeezed her
fists. “You can’t stop me.”
He
outweighed her by at least ninety pounds. At six-four, he towered over her. She
had a lush rack and outstanding hips, but they were no match for his rock-hard
muscles. Hell, he’d wrestled aliens on the farthermost planets, including
Makemake, Eris, and beyond. Next to the dudes he’d rumbled with there, she was
a gnat. Harmless and adorable. “Put
your hands out, wrists together.”
“What—why?”
He
pulled Taser cuffs from his pocket. The rings glowed red. If she breathed too
hard, they’d zap her into quick docility. Hunter’s dates requested he use the
restraints during their BDSM games. Good times.
Modesty
skittered back.
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