by Ruby Dixon
I chuckle, because that does sound like her. “It is not our job to come up with a solution,” I tell her. “That is the chief’s worry. All we are tasked with is to tell him what has happened.”
“Yeah, but it’s got to suck being the chief with all these changes. If I were Vektal, I’d run screaming into the hills and never come back.”
“He would not do that,” I reassure her. “It is great responsibility, but he has a strong heart.”
“Glad it’s not me,” Suh-mer agrees. “I’m happy being a tribe peon, thank you very much.”
10
SUMMER
It’s clear to me that after a full day of hiking in the snow, I’m not meant to be an outdoors kind of girl. It’s kind of a moot point since I’ve been dropped on a primitive ice planet, but I’m pretty sure people like me were meant to live somewhere with a nice library, a cozy chair with a flannel blanket for my lap, and a space heater for my feet. Not snow, snow, endless snow and more snow. Not hiking across valleys and scaling rocky cliffs and plodding endlessly through the churned snow. After this, I think I’m not going traveling again. I like home far too much.
Funny that I thought the small stone huts back in Croatoan village were “roughing it.” Ha. Ha ha. This is the universe teaching me that I never know how good I have things. I resolve that when we get back, I’m going to appreciate my cozy fire pit that I share with Kate and Brooke, and the toilet. Oh, the toilet, how I miss it so. You haven’t experienced “roughing it” until you’ve tried to pee on the side of the trail while wearing snowshoes.
I like to think of myself as pretty decently in shape, but I’m no match for the day-long hike. It didn’t seem this rough last time when we came this way…but then again, I remember riding in the sled with Brooke. I glance over at the others, and Gail’s looking a little wilted, along with Elly. Kate’s tramping along as strong as ever, and even Rukhar looks like he has more energy than me. I eye the sled Warrek’s pulling, but I don’t have the heart to ask to get on there. It’s full enough already, and that’d just be a dick move.
I’m a little surprised when he slows his pace and moves back to my side. “Are you tired?”
I think about denying it and then decide there’s no point. “I am. My feet are killing me.”
He nods. “You look weary. There is a cave up ahead, and I suspect we will stop there tonight.”
“Really?” I perk up at the thought. “How do you know?”
“Because Ell-ee looks tired, and Bek will not push her.” His mouth curves into a hint of a smile.
I’m fascinated by that slow rounding of his mouth. Who knew that such a small movement could be so sexy? Not that I haven’t been staring at his butt all day, or the long flutter of his hair in the wind. I never thought I was into guys with long hair.
Clearly, I’m wrong about such things, because damn.
He doesn’t speak more, but he stays at my side, and there’s a nice sort of companionship walking together, even if I’m too tired to burp up my normal endless stream of small talk. Sure enough, as we approach the nearest cliff, Bek signals to the others, Elly close at his side. “We make camp here tonight.”
We all approach it, and my feet feel like they’re getting heavier as I walk. I’m so glad to be done for the day.
The cave isn’t exactly a paradise itself, though. I duck to get in and find that it’s cramped, with barely enough room to fit all of us. It’s dark, too, and the twin suns are going down.
“What about a fire?” Gail asks, teeth chattering. She puts her hands on Rukhar’s shoulders, hugging the little boy.
“No fire,” Bek says, a stubborn look on his hard face. “If another ship is coming, I do not want to signal to them where we are.”
“Another ship? But it’s been days,” Gail protests.
“I will not risk my mate,” Bek declares. “Vaza can warm you.”
“I will be happy to,” the older hunter says, his beaming grin just barely visible in the low light.
“And Rukhar?” she asks.
“I’m not cold,” the boy says, moving to Kate’s side to pet Mr. Fluffypuff.
“He is sa-khui,” Bek tells her. “The cold does not affect him like humans.”
“He’s also half-human,” she protests. “And what about Summer? She doesn’t have a mate to keep her warm.”
Oh jeez. I’m embarrassed to be singled out like that. Nothing makes you feel like a loser more than someone who’s in a happy relationship pointing out that you’re single.
“I will keep Suh-mer warm,” Warrek declares. “Do not worry over her.”
He will? A warm, shy glow sweeps through my insides. I thought maybe last night was just a fluke. That he was feeling the need to touch someone or have a little human contact, and I happened to be available.
I mean, he did make the big, ballsy promise that he was going to “claim” me once we made it out of this. We’ve officially made it to the other side, and here I am, sitting in the “unclaimed” corner still.
Not that I’m impatient or anything.
I’m determined to keep my yap shut through dinner. I think I’m too tired to talk. Well, mostly. I do chat with Rukhar about house cats and how we kept them as pets back on Earth. And I might have talked about the cats I had growing up, and how hoarders keep lots of cats because they can’t bear to get rid of them, and that it might possibly be related to a parasite in cat urine that makes people want to own more cats and that I saw a news article about that once.
Okay, so I’m not too tired to talk, after all.
But I tell myself it’s because Rukhar’s such a solemn little figure. He’s fascinated by the kitten, who’s being fed a mushy mix of wet trail rations and jerky. Rukhar reaches for the kitten every time Kate sets him down. Kate’s torn because she clearly loves the thing and wants to hold him, but who wants to take a kitten away from a child missing his mom and dad? No one. So Rukhar gets to hug and squeeze Mr. Fluffypuff as much as he wants.
We eat a cold dinner of trail rations and split one of the larger pieces of fruit between all of us. Then it’s too dark to see, and everyone’s too tired to chat more. Gail tucks Rukhar into bed, and he looks so sad and lonely that Kate immediately kneels at his side and hands him the kitten. That brings a smile to his sleepy face, and then we’re all unrolling our blankets and getting ready for bed.
I’m so exhausted that it’s hard to even unroll my furs, and when Warrek squats next to me and begins to undo the ties, I let him. I’m half-asleep when Vaza murmurs that he’s going to take the first watch. Harrec volunteers to take the second, and Warrek offers to take the last.
Then I feel Warrek’s large, warm body slide under the blankets with me, and I forget all about being tired.
He’s down to nothing but his loincloth. When did that happen? I seem to remember him wearing leggings as we walked, because they had a decorative pattern down the legs and along the low-slung waist and I thought they set off the tightness of his butt rather nicely. Not that I was scoping his butt.
Okay, I was totally scoping his butt. But seriously, tails just draw so much attention to that area.
Now that I feel his bare, ultra-warm legs against mine, though? I’m wide awake. I remain completely still, just in case I’m being all weird over nothing. He might just be volunteering to keep me warm to be nice. He might be regretting the whole “I’m gonna claim you” business and is now hoping I don’t bring it up. He might be—
He shifts in the blankets and slides closer to me, and then his nose rubs against mine.
“Suh-mer,” he whispers, and his breath fans over my face. It’s so unfair that I even like the way his breath smells. How is that possible?
“I’m awake,” I manage in the barest of whispers. “What is it?”
“I wish to try kissing again.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.” He nods, and his horns practically bump against my brow. “Are you too tired?”
“Well, no! But ther
e’s a lot of people around—”
“They cannot see anything. It is very dark.” His nose rubs against mine, and I swear, that starts a rather delicious tingle between my legs. “And we will be quiet.”
Well, since he puts it that way… “All right.”
“Tell me how to do it. Tell me the rules.” His lips brush over my cheek, tantalizingly close.
The rules? I find it hard to focus when he’s so close to kissing me. “There aren’t any rules.”
“Why not? Is there not a strategy?”
Is there a strategy to kissing? If there is, I don’t know it. “You just do what feels good. Lips on lips, and then tongue against tongue.”
“Ah, tongues. That makes sense. I have seen others do mouth-matings and wondered about it.”
“Yep,” I tell him softly, wondering if we’re going to do mouth-matings or if we’re just going to talk about it. For once, I’d rather not talk endlessly about things and do instead. His long hair tickles my arm, and I brush it aside, using that excuse to put my hand on his skin. Gosh, he’s warm and delicious to touch. Maybe I’ll just focus on what I can have instead of what I can’t.
But then he shifts, ever so slightly, and his mouth brushes over mine. “I am surprised that there is no chess to this.”
Chess? Does he mean strategy? I can’t think, not with his lips carefully grazing mine. “It’s instinct,” I breathe. “All instinct. You just do what feels good.”
His lips move against mine again, a cross between a nip and a kiss. “And does this feel good?”
Does it ever. I nod, and when I figure that’s not enough of an answer, I give him a tiny kiss back. After all the mental lusting I’ve done over this guy—and planting a kiss of my own—it’s like my courage has gone out the door and taken all my skill with it.
Not that Warrek notices, I think. His hand brushes against my cheek, and then he’s angling my face toward his. And then our lips touch again, and this next kiss is deeper, and sweeter. Our lips linger, parted, and we just kiss, over and over again. Slow, soft kisses that seem like an appetizer for the upcoming main course. I forget all about how tired I am and everything that’s happened in the last few days. I forget that we’re squeezed into a cave with a bunch of other people and the only privacy we have is under the furs.
All I can think about is Warrek’s mouth.
His wonderful, firm, warm mouth. And when each kiss grows deeper and I feel his tongue brush against mine, I open my mouth wider to accept it.
I’m startled when I feel the faint dance of ridges along his tongue. Ridges? But I shouldn’t be surprised; his big alien body is covered in thicker, plated sections on his arms and thighs, back and chest. Of course he’s going to have a few things different than me. I hesitate, but then he drags it against my tongue, and the results are so ticklish and arousing that I decide ridges are very, very good things.
For someone that has never kissed before, he’s sure good at it. There’s no awkward bumping of noses, no banging of teeth, no shoving his tongue down my throat. Everything he does is deliberate and with care, his fingertips lightly brushing against my skin as if he feels the need to touch me with every caress of his tongue. I’m utterly lost in sensation, and my world has shrunk to the firm, assertive flick of his tongue against mine.
I slide my arms around his neck, not only because it feels good to wrap myself around him, but because it allows me to press my breasts against his bare chest. I’m wearing my leather tunic, but since coming to this planet, I’ve gone braless, and my nipples are aching against the heavy clothing. I want to rub them all over him, graze them against his skin, and see how it feels when his tongue is dancing against mine in that seductive way.
He pulls his mouth from mine, and I give a soft little whimper of distress at that. “You are moving,” he whispers, and flicks his tongue against my parted lips.
“Ignore it,” I whisper back.
“Are you uncomfortable?” He smooths my hair away from my face and presses another kiss to my mouth, as if he can’t quit me. I love that. I love everything about kissing him.
I shake my head. “Feels good,” I tell him, keeping my voice as low as possible.
“Ah.” His mouth claims mine again.
And then I feel him move his hand. First, it’s at the hem of my tunic, and then I feel him slide it up under my clothing. His fingertips brush over my stomach, and then he’s moving higher. His hand lands on my breast, and I feel him graze my nipple.
I can’t stop the gasp that escapes me.
“If you are going to mate, mate quietly,” Harrec calls out in a sleepy voice from across the cave. “Rukhar is trying to sleep.”
Kate shushes him, and someone—Gail? Elly?—giggles.
I pull away from Warrek’s mouth and bury my face against his neck in embarrassment. Oh my god. That’s totally my fault—I was loud. I’m not sure I know how to be quiet. “Sorry,” I whisper to Warrek.
“No apologies. I was impatient. We will wait for privacy.” He gives me one more quick kiss and then presses his mouth to my forehead. “Sleep now.”
“Yeah,” Kate says, giggling. “Sleep now.”
I’m totally going to smack her in the morning. If I remember, that is. Right now, all I can think about is how I’m supposed to sleep when Warrek’s hand is still on my breast.
It takes everything I have not to squirm against that big, warm palm. Man, I can’t wait for privacy, either.
11
SUMMER
The next day, no one teases us at breakfast, at least. Thank god. Everyone eats quietly, packs up the furs, and then we’re off walking again.
Today, the men walk near the front, the women in the middle, and those carrying sleds take up the rear. I’m pretty sure it’s because we’re slower than we were before, so the women are protected and can still set a slow pace. Harrec and Bek are at the front and keep an eye on how fast—or how slow—we walk and pace accordingly. Kate walks with me today, and she’s got her kitten with her, tucked into a chest-sling so she can keep it warm under her tunic. Rukhar and Gail walk near us, and I can’t help but notice that Rukhar watches Kate attentively. I’m guessing that if she gets tired of carrying Mr. Fluffypuff, he’ll be quick to volunteer, even though Gail’s holding his hand as we walk.
The kid’s been pretty quiet this morning, and I feel bad for the little guy. He’s only six years old, and this is his first time being away from mom and dad. Given all that’s happened, he has to be scared.
So I try to draw him out with conversation. “Your mom and dad go back and forth between the tribe and the ship, right? Do you make this trip a lot with your parents, Rukhar?”
He nods, nearly as silent as Warrek. What is it with men on this planet and not being chatty? Goodness. Gail shoots me a troubled look and gives a little shake of her head.
Right, mom and dad are probably topics we should avoid. Luckily, Kate’s front meows, drawing all of our attention.
She wriggles in her tunic, making a face. “I think Mr. Fluffypuff just peed on me.”
Rukhar gives a little laugh, the first one I’ve heard from him. “Still want a kitten after hearing that, Rukhar?” I ask, teasing.
He thinks for a moment. “Yes, but I would like Mama and Father back more.”
Oh jeez.
Gail shoots me a shut up look. Okay, so I’m failing with the kid. “Uh, so, um…”
“Rukhar,” a voice calls out from behind us. Warrek. Our little group pauses, and Warrek strides closer to us, pulling his ever-present sled. “I need assistance. Will you scout for me? Look for rocks in the path and move them aside so I do not run over them?”
Rukhar brightens, smiling at Warrek. He races to Warrek’s side and then begins to pick up the occasional small rock or stone that has been churned up by shifting snow, ice, or our snowshoes. There aren’t many, and they certainly aren’t big enough to stop someone as strong as Warrek. It seems an odd task until Warrek meets my gaze and he gives me another on
e of those slow, deliberate smiles, and I feel my body flushing all over.
Everything he does is with purpose, I remember. And he works with the kids back at home. Of course he’d know what would occupy a miserable child. It’s not yakking about his parents with me. It’s keeping him busy and making him feel useful.
“Catch up,” Gail calls to me, and I realize I’m lagging behind our little group. I jog forward—well, as best as I can—and fall back into place between Kate and Elly.
“I’m glad Warrek’s here,” I tell the others.
“I’ll bet,” Kate says slyly.
I ignore that. Or try to. “I mean that he knew just what to say to Rukhar to keep him busy. He’s good with kids. I think that’s important, don’t you? Not that I’m looking to have kids with him. Or that it’s something even on the table. I just think for a guy, it’s a good trait to have—patience and strength, along with a paternal instinct. Not that any of the other guys aren’t paternal, but it’s just different around him. I mean, maybe it’s not but… Oh god, I’m babbling again, aren’t I?”
“Mmmhmm,” Gail says.
“It’s okay,” Kate says. “At least we know the truth about why your eyebrows are gone. They weren’t burned off, they were licked off.”
Elly giggles.
“Oh, you be quiet,” I tell Kate, putting my mittened fingers to my brows. “My eyelashes are gone, too, and he didn’t lick those. That would be weird. I burned them off all right. My whole face would have been one big blister except for the fact that Warrek had some really great cream—”
“Oh lord!” Gail exclaims with a shake of her head.
“Not like that. Face cream. Oh my god, you girls are nasty.” When they all laugh, I bluster on. “It was a burn cream, you big dingdongs. He rubbed it on my face—”
“That’s what she said!” Kate howls.
I make a face as they all crack up. “Har de har har, yuck it up. You’re not the one who looks like a big weirdo with no eyebrows.”
