Sensual Breeder (Delivering the Dirty Thirty #1) - Miranda Bridges Page 0,2
hall. But it’s not like we can escape even if we’re left unsupervised. The bright-yellow force field is more than enough of a deterrent. It only takes one touch for me to know I don’t want to mess with it again.
“Where are you from?” she whispers.
I inhale and release the breath slowly, not wanting to show her my exasperation at the futility of holding a conversation. It doesn’t make one bit of difference where I’m from because I doubt I’ll ever see that planet again. And as far as where I’m being taken? I’m not sure I even want to know. Humans are at the bottom of the galaxy’s ranking system due to our inferior strength and intelligence.
Or at least that’s what Prigav informed me when I told him he was a dumb piece of shit. The slap I received for that act of rebellion proved two things. It showed he is definitely stronger than me and that I am intelligent because I kept my mouth shut afterward.
For a little while anyway.
“What’s your name?” I counter as I walk over to the bed. I flop onto the hard mattress and wonder if the floor would be more comfortable. “I’m Giselle, but if you ask my owner, he’d tell you my name is ‘insolent bitch.’”
She giggles but cuts off the sound abruptly as if she’s worried about receiving punishment. “I’m Lexi,” she says after scanning the area once more. “I was taken from Jesban several days ago, along with a number of other women here.”
The hitch in her voice catches my attention. I run my gaze over her, studying the fine lines around her mouth and the puffiness underneath her eyes. Lexi has been crying, and often.
“You were happy there, weren’t you?”
She nods once, and a golden lock of hair glides along her cheekbone. “I had a simple life, but it was better than being incarcerated.”
“You’re telling me you don’t like having your own private suite?” I sweep my hand through the air in a grand gesture, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Is the floor not hard or the bed not small enough? Or maybe it’s that cup-sized latrine? I can’t fathom why you wouldn’t enjoy almost pissing yourself every time you need relief, but maybe that’s just me.”
Lexi’s smile returns, and her gaze takes on a glint of amusement. “You are incorrigible.”
I let my head fall back to rest against the metal wall and close my eyes. “I’ve been called worse.”
“What about a ‘friend’?”
“Hmm…if I have, I can’t remember,” I say. “Humans don’t have rights where I come from, let alone friends.”
“That’s tragic, Giselle.” Her voice isn’t full of pity or censure, which would piss me off and end this pointless conversation. She’s actually genuine in her feelings, and that’s different from what I’m used to. “Everyone needs someone they can trust with their thoughts and feelings,” she says. “I don’t know about other species, but humans need that sense of connection.”
I peer over at her, taking in her heart-shaped face and guileless hazel eyes. Lexi doesn’t realize it, but she’s about to get one hell of a rude awakening in the near future. Just because I didn’t develop close relationships with the other servants doesn’t mean I couldn’t have; it wasn’t safe to do so. I never allowed myself to become vulnerable around anyone because I didn’t want to experience the loss of them. And it would come eventually, one way or another. That’s not to say I didn’t communicate with those around me. Knowledge can be a weapon, a warning, or a lifesaver, so I made it my business to find out any- and everything I could.
However, there are some things I wish I weren’t aware of.
“Trust is like your vagina,” I say, inwardly grinning at the look of horror on Lexi’s face. “Everyone wants in, but you tell them to ‘fuck off’ unless they’re attractive and have a big dick. In that case, then it’s ‘fuck on.’”
She makes a choking sound, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “That’s one way to view it.”
I bump her shoulder with mine. “Don’t be so gullible. You only let people in who are worthy of trust.”
The honey color of her eyes turns golden, and her mouth thins. “On that we agree.”
The intense energy rolling off her piques my curiosity, but I know better than to pry. Even if she wanted to share her story, I’m not sure I want to hear it. Just from this one conversation, I’m already