by Ruby Dixon
I chuckle. "Did I not satisfy you? I will have to work harder next time."
"Oh, you satisfied me." R'ven wiggles underneath me, and then lets out another sigh. "You satisfied me so hard that I thought I was going to lose my mind." Her lips curve into a smile and she puts a hand on my chest. "But we're both still resonating. Either your swimmers haven't gone all the way upstream just yet or we need another round."
"My…what?"
"Your swimmers. Your seed." She wiggles again. "Never mind. I'll explain some other time when my brain isn't mush." Her fingers trail up and down my spine. "I'm so glad you're back, U'dron. I missed you so much."
I press a kiss to the top of her head. I should get off of her, roll to the side, pull out…but I am strangely reluctant to move. It feels so good to just lie here with her, inside her, utterly replete. "I missed you, as well. My only thought was to get back to you, and quickly." I touch her skin, caressing her neck, her shoulder, marveling at how soft she is. I touch one of her teats, and when her nipple puckers in response, I feel an answering call in my groin.
Perhaps I am not as 'replete' as I thought.
Her tracing fingers move down my spine and then she teases the base of my tail, making me gasp in response. "Next time you go on a long hunt like that…" R'ven whispers, "Take me with you?"
"You wish to hunt?"
"I wish to be with you," she corrects, smiling. "Nothing else matters."
Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
RAVEN
"So…have you danced for your mate?" Daisy looks at me with interest as I shovel breakfast into my mouth. It's not Callie's spicy oatmeal today. Elly and Gail made a thick porridge seasoned with a bit of hraku to give it an edge of sweetness. It's comforting in its own way, and I scrape my bowl before getting a second helping.
"Couple of times," I tell her when I get my bowl back from Elly. "He likes it, but then, he likes everything I do." I don't point out that dancing for U'dron usually ends up very differently than it did when I was back in the club. Back then, if I stuck my ass in someone's face, I'd get mad if they did anything other than shove a few bills into my G-string. Now, when I put my ass in U'dron's face, he grabs my hips and goes down on me.
I like that reaction so much that my dancing never seems to last for long.
Daisy's not deterred by my brief conversation or the fact that I'm eating at record speed. I'm going out hunting with U'dron today. It's my first hunt, and he wants to show me how to set traps and what to look for when I go out. I'm a little nervous, because I've never killed anything with my own two hands, but I also know that survival is important, and being squeamish only hinders me. Nadine and Penny both hunt regularly. Lauren and a few of the others go out from time to time, and for most of the women, hunting is a choice. It's assumed that if you don't help out with the hunting, you help with gathering food or working skins or making meals. I'm going to see if I like hunting…but mostly I just want to spend my time with U'dron.
I'm that clingy woman who can't leave her man's side for a minute, it seems. I just…really like being with him. He makes me smile. He makes me laugh. We have great conversations. He likes my weird versions of dirty songs. Why wouldn't I want to spend all day with the man?
Daisy sidles a little closer, watching me eat. "You're very hungry today."
"Going out," I tell her between mouthfuls and wave my spoon at my mate, who's down near our hut talking to A'tam and O'jek. "Hunting."
"You're hunting?" Daisy looks fascinated. "I thought you didn't do that."
I shrug. "I'll give it a try. Besides, I'm going to have the hottest teacher on the beach."
Daisy's eyes widen. "You are? Who?"
I blink at her. "My mate?"
She blushes, and even that is charmingly beautiful. "Oh, goodness. Of course." She bites her lip and leans in, as if sharing a secret. "Do you…feel any different?"
I take another bite of food, and as I do, I notice Lauren's shooting me a sympathetic look over her cup of tea. I guess Daisy questioned her earlier, and now I get to take my turn. "I've only been pregnant for like, two weeks."
"I meant with resonance," Daisy continues. "I want to know what it's like. Do you tingle when you get near your mate? Does the singing of the khui feel odd? Can you tell a difference from before and after you resonated?" She scoots a little closer to me. "I want to know everything."
I'm grateful for the food I'm shoving into my mouth, because it saves me from an awkward conversation. I don't think Daisy wants to know everything. Does she really want me to tell her that we made love non-stop for three days, only pausing to hydrate and sleep? That when we finally stopped resonating, I felt as if I'd walk bow-legged for the rest of my days? That I'm a little scared of being a mom but I still wouldn't change a thing? That I'm happier than I've ever been and secure knowing that U'dron is mine and mine alone?
I don't say any of these things, of course. Around a mouthful of food, I say, "Guess so."
"Guess so what?"
I swallow down my cup of shrimp tea, looking for my mate. Still talking to O'jek, which is a feat in itself, since I don't think that guy has said more than three words in the last month. Looks like I'm stuck being grilled by Daisy for a while longer. "Things are different a little, sure. You feel…stronger toward your mate. I mean, I was already in love with U'dron. Now I'm just…more in love. And a little more needy, too. I don't like him to leave. That's why I'm going hunting with him."
Daisy melts at this. "That's so sweet. Oh, I hope I resonate soon." She clasps her hands dramatically. "I would love that so."
I'm not sure why she's so excited. After I snapped up U'dron (well, so to speak), the pickings on the beach are getting slim. But romantic Daisy just gives me a blissful look and I smile back, not wanting to rain on her parade. If she's excited at the prospect of instant-love, let her have it.
"Needy, huh?" Lauren asks, grinning. "You?"
I glance around to make sure she's not addressing anyone else. "Why not me?"
She shrugs, moving over to sit next to me. Even though she's several months pregnant now, Lauren looks the same as she ever did, maybe her boobs are a little larger. The lack of change is both pleasing and worrying. Pleasing, because it means my life isn't going to change right away…and a little worrying because it means I'm probably going to be pregnant for a long, long time. Which is…a little terrifying.
Daisy abruptly jumps to her feet, gathering her furs around her. "Do forgive me, but I must go." She trots off, and I try to follow where she's heading, but Lauren nudges me. I see Daisy meet up with a guy—A'tam, maybe?—in the distance and turn my focus to Lauren. "I'm sorry, I'm distracted."
"It's too early for pregnancy brain," Lauren teases. "And I was just joking about how different you seem now. I can't believe you had us all fooled for so long." At my uncertain look, she laughs. "It's a compliment."
"How exactly am I different?" I ask her, curious.
"You cuss, for starters." She gestures at my food. "You're about to go hunting, too. And your voice has a different…tone to it."
"You mean I'm a bitch." I arch a brow at her.
Lauren shakes her head again. "Not at all. You seem more…sincere. More real. I always thought you were nice but kind of flighty before. A little fragile. Like this planet was going to chew you up and spit you out and it was just a matter of time."
"And now?"
Her smile grows wider. "Now, you've got your shit together. I don't think this planet is gonna wreck you. I think you fit in just fine." She gets to her feet, dusting off her leathers, and I catch the slightest hint of a baby bump when she straightens her tunic. "Your mate's heading over. Good luck hunting."
I get to my feet, too, my gaze automatically going to U'dron. He's striding across the beach toward me, dressed in leggings and a fur-lined tunic that opens up in the front and ties at the waist. It reminds me of a karate gi—the jacket and pants—and shows his insanely gorgeous chest off. I think he looks
stunningly handsome. His hair is still a shorn scruff, but I like that, too.
Our eyes meet and he grins at me, his feet moving a little faster as he heads toward me.
Yeah, I think I'm gonna be just fine, too.
Epilogue II
STEPH
The camp is never quiet at dawn. You'd think everyone would be in bed, squeezing out a few more minutes of sleep, or sitting around the fire with their mates before starting the day, but nope. These people are morning people, and even though it's well before dawn when I head out of the women's cave, there are people at the main cook-fire and others heading off to hunt. I see someone casting a net into the waters, and Gail's making a big pouch of shrimp tea.
I smile at her as I pass through, but I don't stop. Not just yet. First things first, I have to deliver my package.
Well…it's not really my package. I've sort of strong-armed the delivery from U'dron and Raven. Maybe it's the budding psychologist in me, but I want to figure out what makes Juth and his son tick. I want to show them that our camp can be a good thing, and that they're welcome. And I think I can do it with more gentleness and more finesse than anyone else.
So I'm the one that sets supplies out for the outcasts now. It's more than just the small portions of food. Most days, I try to include a little something else that might be useful to them, since Raven pointed out that they have nothing. Sometimes it's an extra fur skin that someone messed up on and I can wrangle away, or a carved spoon that doesn't turn out the way the carver intended. I snatch all these things up and dole them out with my care packages. It's difficult to get things sometimes, because even a badly cured hide has its use, and an ugly spoon can still hold soup. No one likes to waste anything. But I also remind people that we can make more spoons, and why can't I have this ugly one, and isn't it all an investment in another tribe member anyhow? It's not really tossing things away. It's simply finding them a new owner that will use them more than the old one would.
I'm pretty good at repositioning things like that, if I do say so myself.
Today's present, well, it's something I made. It's taken me a few days, but I managed to stitch a ball together out of hide. It's made from layers and layers of wadded hide stitched together, and the exterior is made from scraps of colorful skins that Brooke tested some dyes on. There's a green stripe and a pink one, and a brilliant swath of red. It's not the prettiest ball in the world, or the roundest (it actually looks a lot like a really ugly football), but I think of little Pak, whom I've never seen, and I suspect he'll love it.
I head out to the designated rocks with my package, glancing behind me to see if anyone is following. No one is. I've made it quite clear that I don't want anyone to come with me. No other scents except for mine. They need to build trust, and I intend to build that trust. I want Juth and Pak to know that when they smell me, they're safe.
As usual, the rock itself is deserted, no signs of yesterday's donation of dried meat and two starchy roots. We never give them a huge supply of food, because I want them to keep coming back. I'm afraid if we gave them a huge slab of meat they'd just head off and we'd never hear from them again. So I deliberately keep the meals small. It sounds cruel (and feels it, to be honest) but I have to remind myself that it's all part of the process. I make sure there's enough for them to eat, but not so much that they don't have to come back the next day. I dust off the spot where I normally place the offerings and set the food down. There's no one nearby, but my skin prickles and I wonder if I'm being watched.
I get that feeling, sometimes, when I'm out here. Like someone's staring at me. I hope it's Juth and Pak. I hope they see me leaving stuff for them.
"Today's food," I call out loudly, taking great care to set down each item. A big fish, the head still attached, the innards hollowed out and the entire thing smoked and rubbed with herbs. "I promise this looks gross but tastes amazing." I set down a handful of strips of dried dvisti meat. "The usual jerky, of course." And then I add something that's been hard for me to give up—a cookie. Sweets are difficult to come by, and hraku seeds are highly prized. Brooke and Gail made a batch of cookies with the last of the hraku seeds brought from Croatoan, and I saved my cookie so I could bring it out here today. It's made from mashed seeds and some not-potato so it's not a hundred percent like a cookie, but it crisped up nicely and it's been making my mouth water all night just thinking about it.
I hope they appreciate it, because it's hard for this fat girl to give up her cake, so to speak. I gesture at it, setting it down on the rock. "Cookie," I say loudly, and then I pause, wondering if they'll even know what it is? It smells sweet, and I hope they don't think it's rotten. I reach over and break it in half, and then pick up one side to give it the tiniest of nibbles. "You eat it."
Oh god, that's a damn good cookie. I stifle a pang of distress—the last thing I need is another cookie going straight to these hips—and set it back down again. I set the ball next to the food and give it a little pat. "A toy. A ball. For you, Pak."
I look around, just in case someone's come out to greet me, but the beach is just as empty as ever.
I sigh in frustration. "I'm not sure why I'm talking. You guys can't understand me anyhow." I wave at nothing, a reluctant smile on my face. "All right, see you guys tomorrow then." I turn and walk away, leaving the offering behind.
I take a few steps and then pause, glancing up at the skies. It's a little cloudy, and I wonder if I should bring something to cover the food. If they're not around, it might get ruined. I glance back behind me—
The colorful, ugly ball is gone.
Somehow, that makes my day brighter. I smile to myself as I head back to camp.
Author’s Note
Hello there!
Where to begin? Imagine me cracking my knuckles. Sit down. Let’s talk. Lol. You’re wondering why I wrote a character that’s a sex worker. This is the part where I tell you what I was thinking!
This book started out with the concept of secrets. I’m always daydreaming about my characters in all kinds of strange scenarios, and one day I started playing with the idea that one of the characters on the beach is a big fat liar. That they’re absolutely not who they say they are. Who better to be a liar than a weird hippie blonde who goes by the name Raven? When you think of ‘Raven’ you think dark hair and goth (at least, I do). You don’t think of someone with a bright personality and sweet disposition.
So to me, once the idea of someone having a secret came about, I absolutely knew it was Raven. Then, I brainstormed what kind of secret would someone keep when the past on Earth doesn’t matter? If everyone’s starting over, and you’re still keeping secrets, it has to be something with gravitas. I toyed with the idea of making Raven married, or giving someone a family back home but…I really hate that sort of scenario. I don’t want someone leaving happiness behind and trading for a new happiness. I want stories about people that FIND their happiness. So that was out.
So what other sorts of things would people hide? Criminal things, of course! Or things they think the rest of the new society won’t understand. You’re probably thinking, okay, stripping isn’t a big deal. Going to prison for stealing an ex-boyfriend’s car isn’t so bad, either. There’s a LOT worse out there.
This is true. But if you look at it from Raven’s perspective, she is a square peg that has been dropped into a situation full of round holes. She’s the only dog person on cat person island. She’s the only democrat in a land full of republicans…you get the idea. In a new society, one of the biggest things is fitting in. Raven knows this. And when everyone else confesses their benign jobs and backgrounds (College! Nursing! Cashier!) she decides to create a new, benign persona that no one will dislike. As she mentions in the book, her only other friends were strippers, and her job tended to ruin most other relationships. From her perspective, everyone will hate her when they find out she’s a sex worker.
At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter all that much, and a lot of the worry is all in Rave
n’s head. I loved writing her, because she has a lot of fascinating personality aspects. Raven’s very sex-positive and absolutely unapologetic about stripping and showing her body. At the same time, she’s ashamed of her lack of schooling and hides who she is because she thinks others won’t like it. She’s a loner with trust issues thanks to her upbringing, but when U’dron comes back for her (the first time anyone’s ever come back for her) she realizes that it’s time to open up and share who she really is so she can be herself. She’s tired of pretending to be someone else.
As for her criminal record and going to prison, I tried to put myself in Raven’s shoes. Too young, too left on her own to make bad decisions, no father and an absent druggie mother, and I probably would have made the exact same choices she did. Who didn’t make dumbass decisions at eighteen that they didn’t regret or cringe over years later?
Anyhow, I found all of these aspects of Raven fascinating, and I hope you understand a little more as to why I chose to give her the background I did. I hope you learned to love her for the scrappy survivor she is, and how adaptable she’s always been. She acknowledges a crappy situation and tries to make the best of it, to figure out how to survive and thrive, as she’s done all her life.
There’s a general belief in romance writing that most readers hate sex worker heroines, or criminal heroines. This is probably true, but I wrote Raven anyhow, because I like to write different kinds of characters. :)
A quick housekeeping note - Raven refers to herself as a stripper instead of a sex worker, and this was a deliberate choice on my part. Not because I’m trying to denigrate her job choices — your body is your body and you can do whatever the fuck you want with it — but because I’m trying to be somewhat authentic to changing terminology. Raven was ‘taken’ from Earth at least five years ago, which is why all of her club songs are not from this decade. I felt it might come across as inauthentic and author-interfering for me to use the term sex-worker in the book via Raven’s narrative when I feel this is something that has cropped up in more recent years as we become more and more aware of the words we choose. If this is problematic for you, I absolutely understand and I apologize! Writing characters different from myself is always about learning, too.
