Page 15 of A Ruthless Bargain
Okay, that was unexpected. Carefully retrieving the sheet from the floor, I sat again on the bed and tried a different section of colors, bracing myself for a response.
Another bolt of electricity. If it differed from the first, I sure as hell couldn’t tell. All I knew was that both hurt. Not touching any of the colored sections, I flipped the plastic around, trying to figure out what I held.
It must be something extraterrestrial, I finally concluded. What else could it be? Maybe some unknown terrestrial technology could create that reaction, but I suspected I was right about it and Jax Smith.
I froze at the sound of footsteps outside the room again. My heartbeat skittered. I hoped I didn’t have a heart attack. When the steps stopped instead of fading past the room, my throat threatened to close and I leaped to my feet.
My head swiveled like a broken bobblehead, searching for a place to hide.
Too late. A key sounded in the lock. The door pushed open and the immense bulk of Jax Smith filled the doorway.
Heat suffused my face as my eyes traced the hard lines of his body under the suit to the bulge in his pants. I swallowed saliva, imagining him face fucking me again. The unfulfilled ache from our prior encounter sprung to life and the need to reach between my legs for relief overwhelmed me. The instant switch from fear to desire knocked me for a loop. Why did I keep having this reaction to him? He was a classic asshole alpha who’d abused a position of power. Although I’d bargained for—
“What are you doing in my room?” His deep voice held surprise, but no anger.
“What is this?” I countered, shaking the plastic sheet at him.
His mouth thinned into a line of displeasure, though the mirrored sunglasses hid any other response. Until he stalked over to me and yanked it from my hand.
I stumbled backward into the nightstand beside the bed.
“What are you doing with this?”
“Trying to figure out what it is. Besides a torture device.”
Now he smirked. “You touched the aelker.”
“I touched the what?”
He spelled the word. “It is a communication liquid.”
My head spun. “It’s a what?”
“You are not this slow.”
“Fuck you too.”
“Later.” His lips parted slightly at the word and my pussy clenched.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“US Marshal—”
“Jax Smith.” I finished for him. “Yes, I know. Except I don’t think that’s true.” I narrowed my eyes at him, amazed at my ballsiness in this moment of being completely at his mercy. He could snap me in half if he wanted.
“No?”
“Let’s try another question. What are you?”
He shifted to stand more at attention, his hands clasped in front of him. I recognized this from before. It was a false show of relaxation. I’d hit a nerve.
“What planet are you from?” I pushed further.
“Brak.”
The name threw me. “Wait, what?”
“My planet. You asked what planet I am from. Brak.” He said this slowly, like talking to a child.