Hot Match

With the color of lust and the magic of a simple touch, two hearts can save a race.

Jade was at the end of her rope. She’s just lost her job as an erotic dancer and been chased by her boss when a mysterious man named Kyr of Rhyn rescues her. He is the epitome of a tall, dark and handsome man, the kind she always dreamt of. But something isn’t quite right with Kyr and she is bound to find out what it is.

Kyr has finally found the right woman to help him save his race from extinction. She is kind, sensual, and the only one who can fire up the heat inside him and actually make his skin turn green.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Hot Match

Copyright © 2013 Tierney O’Malley

ISBN: 978-1-77111-497-4

Cover art by Scott Carpenter

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.eXtasybooks.com

Hot Match

A Rhynian Story

By

Tierney O’Malley

To my husband who believes in my own magic.

I love you

Chapter One

“Go to hell, Brad!” Jade stomped out of Brad’s dingy office. She slammed the door behind her with force. Without looking back, she walked in between tables, ignoring customers trying to get her attention. Her stride broke when a customer with eyelids half-mast slapped his thick, heavy hand on her leg.
Damn it.
She’d been always alert when around customers and really good at dodging filthy hands, but this one made contact with her leg. It was fucking Brad’s fault. “Let go.” She swatted his hand.

“Feisty. Me like!” Even his laugh was slurred.

Jade winced when his stupid ring snagged at her fishnet, leaving a hole in the front. “Go home, you lout. Take your paycheck to your wife.”

“My wife doesn’t have a great ass like you. Come and sit on this,” he said as he cupped his crotch, “and my paycheck is yours.”

“You need a long shower.”

He reached for her again, but with years of practice, she evaded his hand quite easily this time.

The bar, as usual, was full of men ready to spend money just to see, touch, and taste flesh. She knew she shouldn’t hate these men. After all, without them, she wouldn’t be able to support herself. She glanced at the stage. Her Filipina friend, Pam, was dancing erotically with Guy. He was the new male dancer who could kick any Abercrombie and Fitch model with his beautiful body, except he didn’t have connections and never finished high school. Not polished enough for the likes of models, he’d ended up here with dreams of making it big someday, just like her.

Sweaty and moaning, the two gyrated on stage, touching each other as if they were in the privacy of their bedroom enjoying foreplay.

They were both naked.

The crowd screamed obscenities when Pam slowly slithered down Guy’s body like a snake, her fingernails raking his oiled abs. With her round ass moving provocatively, she licked her way down until her mouth was directly above his erect cock. Just like that, the noise stopped.

Jade could feel the anticipation in the air. Even she couldn’t take her gaze off her friend. She knew what was going to happen. She’d seen this act many times before, but still, her heart raced and she swallowed.

Someone yelled, “Milk him!”

Good Lord.

Jade looked around. Men leering, licking their lips, shaking their legs, mouths open, were all getting their money’s worth. Not Pam and Guy, though. She knew how much they made. They brought in the same amount as she did. It was barely enough to pay the bills.

Pam wrapped her long slender fingers around Guy’s impressive cock and then slowly pumped him. Guy’s mouth fell open, his hips moving back and forth. Guy cupped Pam’s head, pulling her closer to his engorged dick. With a smile, Pam leaned her head forward. She licked the tip of Guy’s cock a couple times before opening her mouth to take him in.

Soft moaning that broke the quietness in the room turned louder as Guy began to fuck Pam’s mouth.

Loud cheering bounced around the room. Jade looked away. She knew what would happen next. She didn’t have to see it. How Pam handled swallowing Guy’s semen, she had no idea. That was something that she’d never done and would never try. Yes, she’d been an erotic dancer, showing her breasts and ass to the customers, but she drew the line there. And that principle was the very reason for losing her position in this shit hole. She’d call Pam later that night and tell her that the asswipe Brad cut her.

God, she couldn’t even imagine doing what fucking Brad had asked her to do in exchange for another six-month contract. How could he even think that she’d have sex with a fat donkey? A donkey! She was humiliated beyond belief. What a brainless asshole.

“Who the hell does he think he is? And what kind of person does he think
I
am,” she hissed through her clenched teeth.
A pig? I’ve been working for this Goddamn Sugar and Spice Club for six months. Didn’t complain, did what I was told and now I am fired because I refused to suck a donkey’s dick?

Man, she’d made mistakes in her life that she regretted to this day, just the reason why she ended up working here. But that didn’t mean she deserved to be treated as soulless, prideless—if that was even a word—and heartless being. Even naked pole dancers should be treated with respect.

“We are like everybody else, damn it!”

Outside the club, she was just another woman who shopped at
Wal-Mart
, watched
The Simpsons
, was crazy about
American Idol,
in love with
Suits
characters, and enjoyed a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup on top. She never dressed in a way that gave any hint of what she did for a living. She, Jade Belfry, always shed her erotic dancer character whenever she clocked-out. Her job stayed inside the bar.

Jade was a lap, table, and pole dancer. She would do anything to satisfy a customer without the actual sex to give a customer his money’s worth. To make a man come while sitting on his chair. Damn. That wasn’t easy. Still, she’d done it many times. And she would’ve kept doing it, too, if Brad hadn’t mentioned bestiality.

When she signed an agreement with Sugar and Spice, she made it clear she wouldn’t be performing sex and other things involving pain. She didn’t mention anything about sex with an animal because who in the freaking world would want to see that? Fucking or getting fucked by animals didn’t sit well with her stomach. And for the producer to ask her to suck a donkey’s dick or let a real dog fuck her from behind was not only insulting, but also disrespectful. Only a person with an unsound mind would agree to that kind of freak show.

Yes, sex between man or woman and animal was beyond the norm and freakish in nature. She would rather have sex with an alien with one black eye and long arms that dragged on the ground when he walked and legs that looked like a green grasshopper’s than taste a donkey’s cum. Gross!

If she could just find the inspiration she’d once had to create sellable paintings again, ones that could fetch a reasonable amount, she’d stop dancing. Painting was the only decent job she knew she was good at, and it, too, had disappeared, along with her family’s respect. But her muse had left her years ago. When would it come back? Would it ever?

Jade thought about the paintings she had sold in the past. People praised her work and she was recognized locally as a painter with great potential. All of it disappeared, though, because of one small mistake. She’d smoked weed and got caught. She went to jail and her life had been going downhill since then. What a hell of a way to pay for inhaling one small joint. Too bad Washington State hadn’t legalized marijuana before she’d tried it.

She was almost to the door when her heel caught on a crack in the floor and broke.
Damn it!
Her anger hitting the highest point, she removed her shoe and threw it at the sign on the door,
Sugar and Spice Club: You Ask, We Provide
, but her aim was off. The shoe flew from her hand and hit the wine bottles on display.

Rocco, the bartender, busy ogling Pam, turned to look at the display case and the floor. “Gotta pay for that, Jade.”

“No, I’m not. It was an accident.” She lifted her chin and limped her way out the door.

She didn’t care if she broke more than one bottle. The whole fucking club could go up in flames and she would just laugh about it. Not a bad thought, she told herself. If this place was gone, then women that worked there would be forced to go somewhere where they would be treated like human beings. The men…well, they could all go home to their families or go to Hell.

Men, as far as she was concerned, were pigs pretending to be humans, particularly Brad.
That horrid beast! May he rot in hell.

She was so tired of living like a rat in a gutter and dealing with people, especially men—men who treated her as low as a crawling bug they squashed with their boot or mosquitoes they swatted with newspapers.
What? Do they really think I chose my profession because I enjoy rubbing my pussy on a pole, spreading my legs for the drooling customer to stare at my clitoris or getting smacked on the rear and groped? Dickheads!

Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath, inhaling the air free of cigarette smoke, alcohol, body odor, and semen. The soft breeze touched her clammy skin. She rubbed her arms. The thought of never going back inside the club actually made her feel good. She was free.

The dark sky contrasted with the bright stars. How beautiful, she thought. Maybe what happened was meant to be. Her stars were finally aligning. One could only hope.

She was removing her good shoe when she heard the club’s door open again. Jade turned around. Brad strode toward her. The subdued light coming from the street lamppost reflected in his black eyes. He had the look of a pissed, angry man.
Crud.

“You owe me money, bitch.”

“Ha! I don’t owe you shit. What, you want me to pay for those bottles? It’s you who should pay
me
. I broke my shoe because you, tightwad, refused to fix that crack in the floor. Duct tape, for your information, doesn’t hold cement together.”

“I knew you were trouble even before I hired you.”

“Got that right. And this trouble,” she said, poking herself in the chest, “will bring
you
bigger trouble by contacting the authorities for your illegal porn shows.”

Brad paled.

“Not so tough now, are you?”

“Bitch. Try it and you’ll lose more than a shoe. Give me back the check I gave you and we’ll call it even.”

“No. I worked hard for this money.”

“You will pay me here or I’ll break your other heel. Your neck even.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Brad.” She frantically reached in her purse for the pepper spray. Where was that damn thing?

“And it’ll be my pleasure breaking your Goddamn nose.” Brad took a step forward. He cracked his knuckles.

Oh God.

Jade took a step back. Brad came closer and closer. She watched as he raised his fist and let go. Jade closed her eyes, but the punch never came. She heard a grunt and opened her eyes.

Wide shoulders and rippling large triangular muscles extending over the back of the neck and shoulders through a white shirt blocked her view.
Who the heck…

“Are you okay, Jade?” the man asked without turning.

“Yes.”
Oh dear. A previous customer?

“What do you want me to do with him?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to kill him?”

Jade stepped to the side to see what was happening. “Oh, no!” The man’s fingers—whoever he was—were wrapped around Brad’s throat. “Let him go, please. I don’t want you to kill him.”