Syrin's Mate (Alien Bounty Hunters Book 4) by Michele Mills

Author:Michele Mills [Mills, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-03T16:00:00+00:00

Eight

Sara woke up and lay there for a moment, listening to Syrin’s soft breaths.

That first night they’d slept together had gone surprisingly well, despite the hard, cold metal, which was unforgiving and sore-inducing. And every night since, for the last four diurnal cycles, this sleeping together thing was continuing to go well. In fact, she slept pretty darn good despite the fact she was in prison, with zero privacy, sleeping with a berserker.

But this last sleep cycle she’d slept fitfully, waking often. After her last bit of sleep she awoke and found her knee over his pelvis. And the worst part, the part that was heartbreaking…he wasn’t hard. Well, not that he’d want her like that, even if he were human. But, from what she’d heard, it seemed males that were human-like got hard while they slept if they were interested in the least, or especially when a female’s leg was rubbing against their pelvis like hers had been.

Over the last few years, she’d felt many an unwanted hard shaft against her back or her stomach, underneath clothes, while against a male she didn’t want to be pressed against. And again, it was heartbreaking that the one male she was eager to hold held no interest for her at all.

Heartbreaking.

This routine had been happening for the last four prison diurnal cycles. They woke up when the lights came on, with Sara all over the poor Xylan. He was always so gracious about the whole thing. She’d untangle herself from him, dying from embarrassment, and they’d both get up, one at a time, pretending like it hadn’t happened. Like she hadn’t been all over him.

First, Syrin got out of their “bed” and used the urinal while Sara pretended not to hear. He washed up, drank some water and then he left and went next door, and waited for her there, allowing her some privacy. This was sweet of him, she had to admit.

When she was finished with her morning pee and washed up too, Sara knocked on the wall. Pounding footsteps echoed from next door, growing louder, and Syrin would slide the door open. “Hey, big guy,” she’d greet him, always saying the same thing, every single time. His lips would twitch and she’d feel her day was complete—she’d made the grim Xylan smile.

Trax and Rengeli would give her barely perceptible chin lifts because both of them were still obviously not ready to pull her into their circle of trust. It sucked, but what was she going to do? Hopefully with time they’d come to know her better and maybe actually believe she hadn’t killed Cylo Rin or understand she wasn’t a scam artist out to stab them in the back.

Time would tell.

Each morning after the awkward non-greeting from Syrin’s friends, the four of them would go to the cleansing station. They would strut in there, greeted with a collective grumbling and muttering of what she assumed were curse words from the half-dressed inmates. Trax would do his whistle and Rengeli

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