Caught by Menace

By: Lolita Lopez
Grabbed, Book Two



Menace’s plan to catch a docile woman is shot to hel

when he’s tackled by a dark-haired beauty who wants to

save her friend from being Grabbed. Refusing to leave

the planet’s surface empty-handed, Menace claims the

spitfire with his colar.

Naya clawed her way off the streets of Connor’s Run

and vowed to never let any man control her. She plans to

make Menace so miserable he’l set her free, but the

ruggedly sexy warrior disarms her with his unexpected

patience and kindness.

Against her better judgment, Naya surrenders to

Menace’s masterful hands and mouth. Submitting to her

new husband brings more pleasure and happiness than

she’d ever imagined possible. For the first time in her life,

she wilingly trusts a man to protect her.

But when past misdeeds catch up with her, Naya puts

the depth and strength of that love to the test.

the depth and strength of that love to the test.

Determined to prove he’s worthy of her trust, Menace

wil stop at nothing to save her.



Inside Scoop: Our heroine learns to love every

decadent delight the hero offers, including BDSM play

and a sizzling M/F/M ménage.



A Romantica® sci-fi erotic romance from Ellora’s

Cave



CAUGHT BY MENACE

Lolita Lopez





Chapter One


Naya kept to the shadows and moved silently through

the cool night. Not even the inky darkness could slow

her feet. She had traveled this path enough times to

memorize every inch of the back aleys and darkened

streets of Connor’s Run. Like most nights, the town’s

power grid had failed, plunging the place into blackness.

Not wanting to garner attention, she used no flashlight

and relied on the palest slivers of moonlight from the

three moons orbiting Calyx to make her way to the

rendezvous point.

She shook off the cold sensation of uncertainty

slithering along the back of her neck. Once her mind was

made up, she’d never been one to hesitate. Tonight was

no different. As a wide-eyed twelve-year-old terrified by

the talk of the government signing one of the Harcos

bride treaties, she’d sworn a promise to her best friend

Jennie. Eleven years later, Naya refused to break that

promise, even if it meant leaving behind the only life she’d

ever known.

And so she ran. She ran through the back streets of

And so she ran. She ran through the back streets of

Connor’s Run, skirting the squalid tenements and

ignoring the stench of refuse from the poorly maintained

water management systems. She kept close to the

buildings, the brittle bricks and stones scraping against

her thin jacket and leaving chalky marks on the worn,

faded fabric. In a few hours, the lottery results would be

official and it would be too late to save Jennie. She had

to move fast if her plan had any chance of succeeding.

As she neared the meeting point, a ramshackle

warehouse that had been long abandoned and scheduled

for razing, Naya eased up on her pace. Her hand drifted

to the weapon secured at her hip. Her father had always

joked that this gun would be pried from his cold, dead

hands—and she’d done just that. She’d been nine years

old the night she’d inherited her first weapon. Looking

back, it was a sad omen of the dangerous, often violent

life she would be forced to lead, but to keep food in her

bely and a roof over her head, there had been no other

choice.

Creeping through the darkness, Naya listened

carefuly. She held her breath and hugged the nearest

wal. She scanned the warehouse for any signs of life and

spotted just one light. The eerie red glow of a light stick

spotted just one light. The eerie red glow of a light stick

gave the warehouse a sinister appearance.

Recognizing Dankirk’s signal, she pursed her lips and

let loose a high-pitched, warbling whistle. The sound

mimicking a night bird was quickly answered with a

lower-pitched whistle in three short bursts. Assured the

coast was clear, Naya hustled to the dilapidated building

and darted between two busted-out boards. Once inside

the warehouse, she pushed back the hood covering her

face and kept her fingertips hovering just above her

weapon. After being ambushed and betrayed more than

once, she never let her guard down anymore.

“Naya.” Dankirk’s familiar voice cut through the

darkness. “Over here.”

She crossed the brick floor and came face-to-face

with the Red Feather fixer. As a member of the

underground group of political dissidents, Dankirk

handled the logistics and “fixed” al the issues that arose

during their risky missions. Like her, he had some serious

skil in smuggling supplies and technologies that were

forbidden in their society.

“You’re late.” He tucked away the eerie red chem-

light and replaced it with one in bright-yelow that more

light and replaced it with one in bright-yelow that more

clearly iluminated his face.

“The rumors of the Grab have already hit the streets.

People are talking about rioting. I couldn’t take my usual

route.”

Dankirk laughed, the sound so bitter and resigned.

“Yeah, because the food riots in The City last month did

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