My Man Michael Read Online Free PDF

women.”
    Mallet howled with laughter. Forgetting the pain of his injuries, he fell back on the bed and shook with the hilarity of it.
    Yeah, he had to be dreaming.
    Someone would make his leg as good as new, and give him his choice of fine-looking women? A desperate fantasy for sure.
    Or wait—maybe the women weren’t so fine. Maybe he’d be a sacrifice.
    Choking down his amusement, Mallet turned toward her as far as his ruined leg would allow. He couldn’t stifle the wide grin. “Got a bunch of dogs in your colony, is that it?”
    Her arms folded. “Animals are rare and cherished, but a few do reside within our boundaries.”
    So cute, even for a nut job. “I meant the women, sugar. Are they homely, desperate hags?”
    She went so rigid, a brisk wind would have broke her. “They are not unattractive, I promise you.”
    “Do the others look like you?” If so, what the hell, he might just go with the delirium and have himself a good time while it lasted.
    Color splotched her cheeks. “They do not. Unlike me, they’re more feminine.”
    That rid him of his smile. “More feminine, huh? How so?”
    “Women who are not warriors are . . . softer. Most in our colony have darker hair and bluer eyes, as your own, though some do have brown hair and green eyes. My fairness and height, along with my coloring, have made me an aberration of my colony—an irregularity within my family.”
    Did all that mean that she found herself unattractive? She had acted surprised that his friends called her a hottie.
    Mallet snorted. She was a looker, no two ways about it. But judging by her expression, he’d embarrassed her when that hadn’t been his intent.
    “All that, huh?” Taking his time, Mallet looked over her long legs, trim torso, and proud shoulders. With the tunic she wore, it was tough to judge her breast size, but it didn’t matter. He liked them all—large or small, soft or firm. Whatever she hid, he’d be satisfied.
    All in all, there was nothing irregular about her sex appeal that he could see. “How are the other broads more feminine than you?”
    “The women are delicate, whereas I am sturdy.”
    “Sturdy?” He snorted again. “I don’t think so.”
    “That would be your singular perception as an oversize man. In my colony, the men do not grow as . . . large as you.”
    Though he figured none of it was real, he couldn’t help asking, “So the men are shrimps, too?”
    Her exasperation showed. “The men are not as powerful as you, but they are good at what they do.”
    “Just not so good that you couldn’t use some outside help—from me?”
    “This is true. Our men are not fighters. They are builders and breeders, and they—”
    “Okay, hold up.” Mallet started snickering again. “Breeders?”
    Her hands landed on her hips, giving away her vexation over his frequent interruptions and overall chauvinism.
    “There is a shortage of males. With the future of our colony dependant on offspring, it is too dangerous to risk a man in confrontations with other colonies.”
    Outraged on behalf of all mankind, Mallet sat up again. “Wait one damn minute. You’re telling me the guys cower at home while the women go out to fight?”
    “They do not cower . The men of my colony are brave and understanding of their circumstances. They build our walls, which require heavy lifting. They supervise our perimeter and alert us—”
    “The women?” he sneered.
    “The warriors .”
    “All the warriors are women?” Time to switch drugs. That was too screwy even for him.
    “Yes, the warriors are all women. We’re selected early in life based on our growth plates and aptitude toward physicality.”
    “Looking for the big hardy ones, huh?”
    She ignored that. “The men alert us when a hostile group approaches. But they also tend to the children, and when appropriate they endeavor to reproduce with the nonwarrior women.”
    Despite himself, Mallet got caught up in her outrageous tale. It sounded to him like