Once a pirate, always a pirate?
Cullen Rex, former space-pirate is now Head of Security on the transporter – Medusa. The captain of the Medusa will move anything (and anyone) if the price is right. Their latest mission is to deliver a passenger to the blighted planet of Elexon in time for the Conjunction.
Cullen Rex, former space-pirate is now Head of Security on the transporter – Medusa. The captain of the Medusa will move anything (and anyone) if the price is right. Their latest mission is to deliver a passenger to the blighted planet of Elexon in time for the Conjunction.
Once a prince, always a prince?
Exiled ten years previously, Mycel Laast has hired one of the toughest crews in the nearby galaxy to get him home to Elexon. The Conjunction approaches, a time of myth and wonder for his people, and he longs to witness this once-in-a-decade event. At least that is what the crew of the Medusa believe…
The best kind of trouble
Getting involved with a stuck-up royal is the last thing Cullen wants, but it’s lust at first sight and their new passenger goes out of his way to make his interest clear.
What starts as a fling soon grows serious, but a relationship built on a foundation of secrets and constructed from lies is no relationship at all. Can Mycel trust his brutal, beautiful lover with the desperate truth about his mission home?
Excerpt
His feet ate up the distance. Two more turns, one more flight of stairs, and he could ignore the determined steps echoing in his wake. The “Danger! Toxic Materials” warning sign Davian had stuck on his door in jest shone brightly at the end of the corridor. Almost there.
“Cullan—”
With a roar of frustration, he spun on his heel and grabbed Mycel, pinning him against the wall beside his door. “Leave me the fuck alone!”
Sweat dampened Mycel’s chiseled features, his short blond hair lay every which way. He looked so different from the impeccable façade he presented to the world. He looked mussed up, a little grimy, and totally fuckable. His pupils dilated, eating into the icy-blue irises, but his voice remained steady and cool as he spoke. “If that’s what you really want?”
Cullan ground his teeth together so hard, he feared they’d shatter. Arrogant bastard. “I just told you so, didn’t I?”
“Fine. Message received.” Mycel wet his lower lip with the tip of his tongue and Cullan locked onto the tiny motion. “Cullan—”
“Hmm?” The dark pout of his lower lip glistened. An image came to mind. One he hadn’t thought of in years, one he’d cast aside with all the other unnecessary baggage. Dew glistening on the petals of a rose in his mother’s garden. He’d snuck out early to cut one for her, a birthday gift.
Elegant fingers curled around his nape, tangling in the thick strands of his hair. They tugged hard enough to sting, the perfect edge of pain to match the jagged rent in his heart torn open by the unexpected memory. “If you want me to leave, Cullan, you have to let me go.”
Awareness filled him on the heels of Mycel’s soft admonishment. The palms of Cullan’s hands rested on the other man’s hips; a more-perfect fit couldn’t have been sculpted by a master carver. Chest to chest, he’d leaned his full weight into the prince, trapping him against the wall. His cock pulsed and twitched in tandem with the answering thickness resting beside it. “I don’t want you,” he muttered.
Mycel smiled and yanked the fistful of hair he gripped at the base of his neck. “Liar.”
Cullan groaned. It had been too damn long since anyone had handled him with such surety. He liked to lead, to steer and direct his chosen bed-partners. This was new. Different. Dangerous. “I don’t want to want you,” he forced the confession past his lips.
“Better.” The mocking smile was too much to bear. Cullan wanted to knock it and the rest of Mycel’s sculpted features into next week. He wanted to kiss him until all that arrogance crumbled to whimpers of need and heat. He just fucking wanted.
“You’re playing with fire.” A final warning to them both. His hatred and disdain for the highborn man were no match for the desire heating his blood. Digging his thumbs into the perfect dip above Mycel’s hipbones, he tugged him closer though barely a breath separated them.
The icy lure of his eyes sank deeper into Cullan’s soul, as cold and all-consuming as deepest space. “Burn me up, Cullan.” Lips softer than those of any man he’d kissed fluttered over his, the delicate brush no more than a whisper of silk, and Cullan broke.
About the Author
Merryn Dexter is a military spouse who, after a varied employment career (from selling sandals to old ladies with bunions to being a health and safety coordinator for a construction company), is thrilled to be pursuing her dream career as a romance writer. She likes The Winchesters, Spike, Hotch, Loki and watching complicated European Noir. Her hobbies include crying at books, crying at movies, crying at tv serials (there’s a theme!) and believes all stories should have a Happy Ending.
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