Their Zandian Mate (Zandian Masters 9)

“Over the tunic, right?” Jax asks doubtfully, like he’s trying to make this right in his mind so we can get past it.

I shake my head.

“Vecking excrement, Tarren! What in the hell were you thinking?”

I shrug. “I was thinking about her juicy ass. I’d already threatened to warm it for her if she left the shelter again. If you’d seen the way she blushed, you would’ve been fixated on that particularly glorious part of her anatomy too.”

Jax’s lips tug up. “I’m sure I would’ve been.”

“So what’d she do?” Ronan asks.

My own lips lift. “She apologized to me.”

Jax groans and adjusts his cock.

“And then I let her rub her little clitty all over my thigh while she stitched me up.”

“Oh please,” Ronan laughs, giving me a shove.

I grin back. I’m not about to tell them that it’s actually true. It’s too impossible to believe.

“So let’s go claim her,” Jax says, heading for the med bay.

Ronan follows without question.

I stare for a moment, but then I jog after them. I know that look in Jax’s eye. He’s the thinker in our group and when he’s made a decision, it’s usually a good one.

Riya

There’s really nothing to do in the med bay. All the injured have been moved out to one of the pop-up domes the warriors set up this morning. It seems King Zander came

to Zandia well-prepared for post-battle occupation of his planet.

I walk around the empty space, spraying sterilization mists on surfaces.

I’m hiding.

If I’m honest with myself, I’ll admit that’s what I’m doing. I’m afraid to go anywhere near a male Zandian right now because as far as I can tell, King Zander just declared it open season on human females.

I stop and stare at the cot where the giant warrior Tarren sat. I don’t usually think about males, but this one has dominated my thoughts from our first interaction.

He’s all height and muscles, and stars, the way they ripple as he moves! He ran out into the laser fire and dragged the injured in for me to treat all planet rotation. Scolded me when I went out myself.

I will bring them in. Leave again and I’ll warm your ass.

A strange tingling had flushed through my body at the threat.

A hear a step at the door, and I know immediately it’s him.

I turn, my lungs jamming up in my throat.

He’s not alone. With him stand two other warriors. There might be a resemblance, but I’m not sure. I haven’t known enough Zandians yet to pick out their similarities and differences.

He clears his throat. “Riya.”

I try to swallow and fail. “Tarren.”

One of the warriors beside him steps forward, lifting his fist at 90 degrees in the traditional Zandian greeting. “I am Jax, and this is my cousin Ronan.” He indicates the younger warrior on Tarren’s other side. “We are all three cousins,” he amends. “But you’ve already met Tarren.”