Page 54 of Galaxy Gladiators Romance Box Set #11-19

Chapter Six

R aine

Maximus changed after Vartan’s match. Nothing has been the same.

I’m a smart woman, I’ve tried to psychoanalyze his response. Did watching Vartan almost get killed remind him of his own mortality in a way that caused his mental health to spiral? I doubt it. The male has been a gladiator for years. He has to have seen worse things than Vartan’s pounding.

I think it was our little sexcapade in the hover. I’ve been sexually demanding since the moment I regained consciousness after the auction. But maybe it was the nature of my demands. The roleplay. Maybe his people have some prohibition against it, or perhaps it triggered bad feelings because of his long history of slavery.

At first, I doubted that was the problem. I mean, the guy is so blunt, so in your face in other ways. Why would this bother him? And his performance was so perfect it’s hard to believe he wasn’t enjoying the hell out of our tryst. But evidently he’s not happy about it.

He didn’t wear a stitch of clothing for the first few days we were together. Now he’s taken to wearing not one but two t-shirts at all times. And pants. I’ve got to say, I miss the kilt—he looked amazing in that.

I’ve only had one period of desperate sexual need since we exited the hover two days ago. He pulled off his pants, sat in the chair, motioned me between his legs, and allowed me to suck him. The mechanics of the act worked, but it was clear he took no joy in the act. Nor did I. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve grown to like the big, brusque male from Addai, but his shuttered emotions have hurt my feelings.

Don’t even get me started on our conversations. I’ve asked him what’s wrong, but the heretofore loquacious gladiator who had no compunctions about speaking his mind has gone all but radio silent. I can’t wait for the Devil’s Playground to pick us up.

“The Playground should be here this evening,” he says when he emerges from the shower fully dressed. I think this is the first conversation he’s initiated since we emerged from our hover after Vartan’s match.

A bolt of fear arrows through me. I’ve been worrying for days about my future. I’ve examined my options, and there aren’t any good ones. The only good option would be to go to sleep and have a do-over by waking up in my bed on Earth.

The other options? None of them excites me. I’ve discarded the idea of staying here. I know no one, and from what Maximus told me when he was still speaking to me, humans aren’t allowed in space. Which doesn’t mean there aren’t thousands of us roaming around up here. What it means is that we’re illegal, have no rights, and are easy prey for any predators who want to enslave us.

The only other option appears to be to walk with my big gray friend onto the Devil’s Playground when it shows up this evening.

First of all, Devil’s Playground ? Really? Who names their vessel that? Certainly not law-abiding citizens.

Second, the ship is full of runaway slaves, all of whom are gladiators. Maximus may be rough around the edges, but Vartan seemed decent. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I’m imagining.

“You said there are humans onboard?”

“Four. Aerie who is Captain Beast’s mate, Grace, Tyree the pilot’s mate, Star who is mated to Ar’Tok, and Elyse, Wrage’s mate.”

Great. That makes me calmer immediately—not! Beast? Wrage? What am I getting myself into?

Perhaps he sees my fear, because he says, “They’re nice females. Want to talk to them? You can comm them right now.”

I hadn’t realized how much his silent treatment had affected me until he said those few kind words. It’s such a relief he’s talking to me I feel my whole body relax and stand down.

“I can talk to them? Yes, please.”

Less than a minute later I’m speaking with Aerie and Grace, who look like normal humans. Moments later, we’re joined by Star and Elyse. Maximus grabbed a computer pad and is camped in the bathroom while the five of us chat.

“You must be disoriented and scared shitless,” Elyse says. “And getting stuck with Max for the better part of a week? Don’t even get me started. He can be such an ass.” All of a sudden, her face turns serious. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he? Forced himself on you? Threatened you? Charged you for the privilege of coming onboard? If he has, my mate Wrage will pound his ass.”

She stops talking and all four women stare at me through the comm as if my answer is the most important thing they’re going to hear this year.

“Maximus saved my life. Everything is fine.”

Crickets.

They’re all just looking at the comm, waiting for me to tell them more.

“Really. He bought me to keep the asshole at the auction from euthanizing me. Euthanizing! I was . . . sick for the first few days.” Maximus returns to the room to hear this part of the conversation. “He tended to me.” All of that was true. I just didn’t go into detail about the words “sick” or “tended.”

My gaze darts to him as I wonder if he already spilled the beans about my interesting reaction to the shot the auctioneer gave me. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Good.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Captain Beast’s mate, Aerie says. “Max can be—”

“Right here!” I interrupt brightly before she can finish her sentence, although I’m dying to hear what she was going to say. This conversation might be brief, but I’m getting the definite impression Maximus isn’t going to be voted the most popular male on the Devil’s Playground .

“We knew you were coming,” Star says. “We’ve freshened up a room for you and will be happy to have you onboard. Don’t worry! You’ll be among friends before you know it. The males will treat you well, we’ll find you something meaningful to do. You’ll never get your old life back, but you’ll get a new life.”

“I can’t wait to meet you,” Aerie says, “See you tonight.”

I walk to Maximus to get help turning off the comm, and he jacks back so I won’t touch him.

“What the fuck?” The words explode out of me. I’ve been patient since he began giving me the silent treatment, but this sucks! “You can’t bear to touch me? What’s wrong with me?”

I step forward and although I’m a foot shorter than him, he steps back like I have the plague. Because I’m pissed and this has been going on for two days, I can’t control my urge to reach out and poke him on his breastbone with my pointer finger. It was half in fun, half because I’m mad, but you’d think I’d pierced him with a knife.

“What gives?” I wail.

“The computer says there’s a good vid playing nearby. If we leave now, we can make the show. We can take the moving sidewalk there. I’ve never seen a vid in a theater before.”

I open my mouth to bitch at him, then close it, shaking my head. Nothing I say will change things, and getting out of this room sounds like a good idea.

If I’m not mistaken, Maximus pulls on a third t-shirt before we leave our room. I must not have any self-preservation urge, because I have a strong impulse to punch him. Instead, I hurry down the hallway after him.

I didn’t pay a lot of attention when we hovered to and from Vartan’s match the other day, but I think we’re in the heart of downtown. Most of the buildings are at least forty stories tall, and there are people of all alien races hustling along moving sidewalks that are amazingly similar to the kind they have at airports back home.

At the arena, Maximus kept his palm on the small of my back when we walked through the crowd. It felt reassuring, and truth be told, his possessiveness was kind of a turn-on. Today, he’s following his self-imposed no-touching rule. I’m scurrying to keep up, but his strides are about a foot longer than mine.

We get to an entry portal onto the moving sidewalk and Maximus shoulders his way in front of a wizened purple female walking with a cane. I’m left behind to watch her teeter and almost fall while Maximus walks on, unaware of the havoc he almost caused.

I step forward to give the female something to hold onto for stability even as I watch Maximus march ahead. I know the exact moment he realizes I’m not at his side. His forward motion stops, his shoulders tighten, and he turns to retrieve me at a run, his face almost panicked.

“Raine!” he calls, his voice both frantic and relieved.

He sees the old female’s predicament, offers her his arm, and dips his head to ask her where she’s going. He looks so concerned for her now as he helps her get off at her stop, yet seemed oblivious when he pressed ahead of her.

When he’s back on the moving belt with me, his hand slips behind my waist. It’s not the same, though. The reassuring touch isn’t there. I can barely feel the warmth of his skin because he’s only touching me with his fingertips.

“Our stop is next,” he says, then helps me off.

It’s funny how everything is similar to Earth, but different. It’s obvious which building is the theater; the windows are full of the equivalent to posters. Instead of paper, though, there are TV screens running trailers.

He uses his wrist-comm to make the transaction for our tickets from an unmanned kiosk, and we enter a darkened theater. Instead of theater seating like back home, though, the cavernous room is filled with something similar to the clamshell covers you see at resort beaches.

Mostly in twos, although some are in fours, comfy velvet recliners sit next to each other with a canopy arching over the top to give maximum privacy to the people inside. The levels are tiered in such a fashion the canopies in front of you don’t obstruct your view.

Maximus escorts us about halfway down, and we settle into seats that were evidently built to accommodate every species in the galaxy because they’re gargantuan. When we’re both sitting and I’ve figured out how to make my chair recline, I look around to realize we’re in a completely private little world.

We’re sheltered from the gaze of anyone to our right or left. The people behind us can’t see us unless they have x-ray vision and can see through our cloth canopy. The people in front of us can’t see us either unless they can see through their own canopy.

Is this movie going to be porn? Because we could do anything in here and no one would see us.

“What vid are we going to see?”

“It’s called Gladiators 22 . I figured we couldn’t go wrong with that. If there are 22 of them, they have to be good, right?”

The music starts with a powerful techno beat, and credits play—just white on a black background. Of course, neither of us can read those.

The movie starts with a long shot of two gladiators fighting in an arena. Ten seconds later, we join a gladiator entering a luxurious room filled with yards of velvet draperies and one large, nay, humongous round bed filled with an opalescent blue female with four arms.

Since the gladiator is wearing only a loincloth, it takes only seconds for his sweaty body to become naked. And . . . they start going at it in true porn fashion.

It’s not like anything I’ve seen on the net, of course. I mean, there are no four-armed lovelies in the pornos I’ve had occasion to watch.

I doubt the leading male is a gladiator, but this cobalt blue fellow could star in a porn film anywhere in the galaxy if his acting ability was measured by the length of his cock. The word prodigious comes to mind. Holy hell, it looks more painful than sexy.

I give myself a few minutes for the novelty to rub off. And then I give myself a few more. I mean, come on, there haven’t been a whole lot of perks to the abducted-from-Earth thing. Can’t a girl watch a guy who’s hung like a horse, or an elephant, get it on with a gal with four arms?

Finally, I glance to my right and see my companion looking at me. He’s not sneaking a peek, though. He’s flat-out staring.

We may not have talked a lot lately, but I know a lot about this male. I certainly know his arousal tells. Nostrils flared, eyes shining, chest heaving. Oh yeah, the show has turned a certain someone on. Truth be told, it’s turned two certain someones on.

Our seats are shoved together and fully reclined. Let’s face it, we’re in bed, in private, in public.

He rolls toward me, his gaze not leaving mine for a second. I roll toward him until our lips are only inches apart.

The techno is pounding in the background, but it’s not so loud that it drowns out the unmistakable noises of sex floating to my ears from every direction. It sounds as if Maximus and I are coming late to the party. ‘Come’ being the operative word. I imagine everyone in the theater is getting it on.

Maximus leans in, one slow inch at a time. When he’s close enough you could barely slide a slip of paper between our lips, and his golden eyes have shuttered in lust until they’re half-closed, I hiss, “No nookie!”

“What?” His head tips back so he can see me better.

“You don’t talk to me for days? No fucking for you.” I bop the end of his nose with the tip of my index finger.

“But I smelled your arousal.”

He looks genuinely confused. I’ll help him understand.

“Arousal meant need the first several days we knew each other. Luckily, that ship has sailed. Now, arousal just means arousal. I didn’t have a choice before. I have one now. I choose not to fuck you because you, Maximus, are a fucker.”

“A fucker?” He looks genuinely surprised.

“In your culture is it considered good manners not to talk for days at a time to the person you’re in enforced confinement with? Well, it’s not that way on Earth.”

“I’ve hurt you,” he says with dawning awareness. Was he oblivious to how irritated I’ve been? Really?

“Yes, you hurt me! I thought we . . . shared a moment, several of them, actually. Then you ran away.”

He cocks a black eyebrow.

“Emotionally ran away.”

Maximus

I’ve messed this up. Badly. I was shocked at my body’s changes. Fearful of what the computer told me—that I was mated to a female I don’t even know. My only agenda for this trip was to do my job—to protect Vartan during and after his match. Well, that and I was dying to find a four-armed Mordite to drack at any cost.

Raine wasn’t in the plans. Dracking her wasn’t in the plans. Having my body change into a flashing sign wasn’t in the plans. And becoming mated definitely wasn’t in the plans!

I certainly wasn’t in Raine’s plans, either. She was abducted, then woke in an auction house, was shocked unconscious, and forced to have sex to relieve her drug-induced frenzied need. Along the way she encountered aliens she never imagined could be real, and had to admit she can never return to her friends, family, and career.

She’s been through too much. I can’t tell her about my condition. What would I say? You didn’t want to be a slave to your need, but now you’ll be a slave to mine ? Or, sorry, you have to mate me and have sex with me for the rest of your life in order to keep me alive?

I decided the computer is wrong. Addais don’t transform unless they’re mated. Isn’t that what the AI said? Couples get formally mated, then go into a room and copulate until the male experiences his changes.

Obviously, what Raine and I did confused my biology. My body thinks I’ve mated her. I need to correct my body’s upheaval by not exchanging any bodily fluids with her. For good measure, I decided it would work better if I didn’t touch her at all. Certainly, this condition will pass.

I’d hoped against hope that if I kept my hands off her, the glow would disappear and I wouldn’t be mated to her.

I didn’t want to hurt her. I just wanted to give my body time to return to normal. I figured if I just kept my hands off her for a few days, the glow would go away. Why tell her about something that would disappear in a day or two?

I must be suffering from temporary insanity. What was I thinking? I was about to drack her. It had to be the four-armed Mordite on the big screen sucking that blue male’s cock while her hands . . . It’s a good thing Raine refused me.

“Want to leave?” I whisper.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to leave, Maximus? You look like you’re enjoying the show.” She glances at the bulge in my pants.

“Let’s go,” I tell her after one swift glance at the screen to see the Mordite on her back getting dracked , while two of her hands caress the males’ balls and the others stroke his back. It doesn’t look like it’s worth an annum’s salary to me. The male certainly doesn’t look as excited as I was with Raine in the hover the other day.

“I’ll only leave now if you promise to never give me the silent treatment again,” she says as she moves her seat from bed to chair position.

“I promise not to do that again, and I apologize for hurting you,” I tell her sincerely. It’s the last thing I want to do.

She looks surprised, but says, “Apology accepted.”

I knew something was wrong between us since the writing appeared on my chest, but I’d figured it was coming from me. I understand now that my silence affected her. I’ll be more mindful in the future. Her feelings are delicate. It’s one of the things I like most about her.

It’s dark outside when we leave the theater. Raine tosses her head, looks up at me, and says, “Great first date, Maximus. An X-rated movie. Bold choice.” Her tone taunts me, but she’s smiling. I tip my head in question. “I’m joking. And hungry. I saw a lot of restaurants when we whizzed by on the moving sidewalk. Want to walk until we find a place to eat?”

Raine

I’ll admit, I’m confused. I can’t be too hard on myself, I mean I’ve been gone from Earth less than a week. Well, maybe. Who knows how long I was on a transport vessel? I must have been in stasis of some kind because I remember none of it.

My energy should be focused on coming to terms with my situation or worrying about what’s going to happen to me in the future, but I’m mostly concerned with the guy who belongs to the fingertips grazing the small of my back.

I shouldn’t care what he thinks or what’s going on behind those gorgeous golden eyes of his. But I do.

I spot a place up ahead that looks promising for dinner. It has outdoor dining tables and looks packed. That’s a good sign.

“How about that one?” I point.

“Looks good.”

We make our way there and I stand at the end of the small line of people giving the three-foot-tall yellow-skinned hostess their names. Maximus barges to the front, shouldering a person with leaflike skin out of the way.

The tiny hostess looks flustered, starts to shake her head, but then walks toward the restaurant, waiting for Maximus to follow. He looks surprised to see me at the back of the line, comes to retrieve me, and the hostess seats us.

“What was that about?” I ask before I peruse the menu.

“What?”

“You barged to the head of the line.”

He tilts his head, lowers his brow and his eyes flick up and to his right as he thinks for a moment.

“Barged?”

“Maximus, don’t play dumb. You saw five people waiting in line, you stalked past them, and you intimidated that tiny female into seating you first.”

He’s quiet a moment as he thinks.

“I did that?”

I nod.

“Should I apologize? Should we go to the back of the line?” His expression is earnest, concerned.

“Are you saying you didn’t notice you did that?”

“I’ve been a gladiator since I was five. I grew up in barracks. When it was mealtime, you had to make your way to the food before as many others as possible so you got fed. That was the way of it. It’s second nature.”

My emotions are roiling. Being with this male is so confusing. One moment he’s an ass, the next he’s sexy, and the next I have compassion for the life he’s led. And I’m grateful. It suddenly strikes me with the force of an atom bomb that if it weren’t for him, I’d be dead.

“So you weren’t just pushing that poor little female around because of your size?”

His eyes round in his face in true shock.

“I’d never . . . I’ve been pushed around by males bigger than me my whole childhood. I wouldn’t do that. Not on purpose. And to that tiny female? That would be wrong.” His handsome face looks so contrite, his head tipped down as he glances at me.

I want to put my face in my hands and think. I don’t know whether I want to slide onto his lap and make out with him, or distance myself and never see him again. Instead, what I do is order the waiter’s favorite dish since I can’t read the menu.

Service is slow and the food is awful. I guess asking a shaggy blue guy for his favorite food was a bad idea. By the time we’re done, we’re racing down the moving sidewalk to get to our hotel and pack.

My opportunity to have a serious conversation with Maximus has disappeared by the time we hover-taxi to the ship.

Four women meet me at the entry ramp. They’re all talking at once as they pull me down hallways randomly pointing at things and naming them.

“Let’s get you to your cabin,” says Aerie who’s a little spitfire with short spikey blond hair. She’s about five foot nothing and has a ring in her left nostril. “Elyse used the last of her stash to make chocolate fudge.” She puts air quotes around “chocolate fudge.” “We don’t share with the males,” she whispers. “We save it for special occasions. We’re so glad to have you onboard.”

We nibble on what passes for chocolate fudge and exchange basic info about our lives. It’s been a long time since I slept, and they get the message when I yawn for about the tenth time. It’s hard to calculate, but by the time the women leave my room, it’s probably two in the morning.

As I take a shower, I try to calculate how many times and in how many ways the four of them asked if Maximus had treated me okay. I replay him barging to the front of the line at the restaurant or almost mowing down that little old lady on the moving sidewalk and wonder how many times he’s done something like that onboard this ship. They’ve seen the worst of him and attributed it to bad manners, but I think he simply doesn’t know better.

An hour later, lying on my back in bed, I come to the painful realization that not only can’t I sleep, but I know why. In just six days I’ve gotten used to sleeping with Maximus. I toss and turn for a while longer before I pull on a pair of leggings the women gave me and pad next door to his cabin.

I know precisely where his cabin is because every time the women giggled too loudly about him, their eyes darted in that direction and they shushed each other because they didn’t want him to hear.

I knock quietly but receive no answer, so I knock louder until I hear his gruff, “Go away!”

“Can I come in?” I whisper.

“Wait.”

Wait? Like he has to get dressed? This from the male who didn’t wear a stitch of clothing for days after we met? The male who felt more comfortable in his own skin than anyone I’ve ever known?

He comes to the door wearing pants and a couple of t-shirts—this ridiculous thing he started to do after we had sex in the hover.

“I can’t sleep.” I shrug and glance at his bed. “Can I join you?”

Maximus, big, bearded Maximus with his filterless mouth and shaggy head, quits moving. He’s like a robot that ran out of battery. He doesn’t even blink.

Finally, he asks, “Why?”

Why? “Because I’m in a moving spaceship at the outer edges of the galaxy when a week ago I didn’t believe there was sentient life outside of Earth. Because there are a bunch of alien gladiators on board and I haven’t even met them yet. Because even though you’ve shut me out and quit talking to me, I know you better than anyone else within a zillion miles. Because you saved my life and I trust you.”

He’s motionless again as he considers my request. I feel more rejected by the second. We fucked each other’s brains out twenty times a day for days. I’ve sucked his cock and swallowed his sperm and now he doesn’t know if he can tolerate me lying in bed with him? I’m just about ready to storm out of the room as I tell him to fuck off when he says, “Okay.”

He’s reluctant. His tone and monosyllables are a dead giveaway. If I felt just a smidgeon stronger right now, I’d waltz out of here with my head held high and vow never to see him again. If the other women on board weren’t all nicely paired up, I’d knock on one of their doors to talk and get reassurance. But they’re all mated to what they described as great guys and it’s deep in the middle of the night. All I have is Maximus.

“No touching,” he commands.

That should clinch it, but it doesn’t. I scramble into bed, lie down, and turn away from him.

It’s amazing how much you can learn about someone in such a short time. I can determine his regular breathing from his sleepy breathing. He’s awake.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” I ask.

“It’s late. Too late to talk.”

He has to know what I mean, but now’s not the time to push it.

I riffle through the pages of my mind, flashing pictures of my life in quick succession. I’m a doctor! That means I’ve gotten good grades and studied my ass off since junior high. I felt driven and confident enough to sign on the dotted line to put myself in hock for over half a million dollars in student loan debt.

I’ve cut people open with a knife and prescribed lifesaving medication. I’ve held my own in Grand Rounds and in esoteric conversations. I am a strong woman!

One little abduction and a close brush with euthanasia shouldn’t negate all of that! I’m going to acclimate to this change in circumstance. I’m going to forge a new life for myself. I’m well on my way to making new friends. And what I don’t need right now is Maximus. I definitely don’t need him so much that I have to beg to be in the same room with him.

I roll off the bed, walk to the door, slam my palm on the plate, and storm back to my room.

Fuck Maximus!