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Blurb:
She’s into virtue. He’s not. On a pleasure asteroid, he’ll show her what paradise really is.
*Published in a previous Naughty Literati anthology.*
Copyright © Tina Donahue, 2017
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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