Alien Romance: The Space Dragon's Owned: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) by Ashley Hunter Page A

stood and made his way to the side of the stage, where Alasia Fraser was waiting to collect the check.
    Brock wondered why he did this. He liked Alasia - she was a sound woman - but he didn't know why he did this for her. Giving money to charity he had no problem with doing, but Brock didn't like these events where you bid to date a bachelorette who paraded themselves on a stage and the bid amount would be the donation. He could easily send a check in the post but Alasia always managed to get him to come.
    For the past four years, he had grudgingly agreed. At the end of the night, he and Alasia would share a takeout at her apartment and then he would take his leave. No sex; Alasia was firmly on the other side of the fence. But she was good fun and that was the only thing Brock looked forward to.
    He sighed when the announcer's deep voice vibrated across the room, introducing the next woman.
    "Here we go, gentlemen. Bachelorette number seven. Ren Riceluk."
    Brock glanced up at the stage, expecting another debutante-looking beauty queen, stick thin and with a pageant-style smile pasted on her face. And he froze. The woman on stage was curvy. Deliciously curvy. The red dress she wore clung to her body and showed off her assets in a way that had Brock's mouth watering.
    Her light brown hair was done up in a simple chignon, swept away from a clear-skinned face that had very little makeup. Her dark eyes glinted in the light as they darted around the room, standing on the stage with one hand on her hip, a confident smile on her face as she sauntered across the stage and twirled before moving back to her original spot.
    She was beautiful. Brock couldn't take his eyes off her, barely registering her credentials.
    "Ren is an elementary school teacher. Rather her than me." The announcer chuckled. "Aged twenty-three and, as you can see, brown hair and brown eyes. Nice curves as well, if I say so myself. Can't beat those curves."
    Brock wasn't going to argue with that.
    "Ren's the quiet type, preferring to be with a good book than a night on the town. She's also a fitness bunny. The batteries never stop with this woman. She cycles to and from work and she also runs every day. Since the age of seventeen, she has competed the Boston marathon every year. Don't be deceived by those curves; this girl can easily keep up with you and overtake you. She likes to keep people on her toes."
    Brock could imagine that. He stared at Ren as she managed to keep her head up. And noticed the slight tremble in her hand, the fear in her eyes. She was nervous. Brock wondered why she was doing this if she was nervous.
    But that question died away when his serpent hissed and writhed. Brock didn't need to guess what it meant. It smelt its mate clearly. Brock closed his eyes and inhaled. There it was. The smell of his mate.
    And it was coming from Ren's direction.
    Brock opened his eyes, knowing that his eyes had changed. He blinked to clear them and made a decision.
    He raised his hand to make the first bid.

 
     
     
     
     
    Their First Date
     
    He had bid. Ren stared at the man who had given the highest bid and won her. She had only seen one picture but she knew exactly who he was. Brock Willier.
    Billionaire recluse Brock Willier had successfully won her for a date. For thirty thousand dollars.
    Ren's head was spinning. This couldn't be real. She wasn't expecting to raise that much but it had happened. To start with, it had been between two middle-aged men, neither of them particularly attractive, bidding up to over ten thousand dollars. Ren had been bracing herself to accept a date with either of these men - neither looked very inviting - when Brock had made his bid of thirty thousand. When her two bidders saw who was competing for her, they had backed off and Brock had easily won.
    Now Ren was about to go on a date with the most eligible bachelor in Boston. And she was terrified.
    She hurried off the stage, wafting at her face with her hands to cool the