“Jax?”
“I…just need a little time.” He glanced at her over his shoulder and forced a smile to his lips. “After the razorback… It came too close to harming you, Macy.”
Macy frowned and rubbed her arms. “Okay. You won’t be gone long?”
He shook his head and entered the water. “Just going to check outside. Make sure it did not follow our scent.”
“Please be careful.”
Dipping under, he propelled himself toward the tunnel.
Chapter 13
Macy stared at the dark water that hid the tunnel. Her heart pounded, and unease twisted her insides. They’d waited a day to ensure the razorback left. One day. Despite Jax’s confidence — he insisted it had moved on to a better hunting place — Macy was a wreck. She hadn’t wanted him to go. She could do without the food they’d left behind.
But Jax had insisted because he knew she needed it.
Macy clenched the fabric of her dress in her fists and bit her lip.
I can’t lose him, too.
She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath.
“Jax will be fine. He’s a hunter. He’s fast. He’ll…he will be back.”
She opened her eyes and waited. Hoped. One minute led to the next, and the next, and there was still no sign of him.
Macy got to her feet and paced. “I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and…and…worry. I need—” she stopped and stared at the barrels she’d used to create her tent, “—a distraction.”
Walking to the closest barrel, she lifted the fishing pole and carefully set it down on the ground. The canvas created a gentle breeze as it sagged. She hadn’t searched these containers yet — not thoroughly. Her priority had been to get out of the sun.
She bent down and removed the items within, setting them atop the nearby crates and on the ground around her feet.
There were a few more pieces of driftwood; she added them to her respectable pile. She had no immediate use for many of the other items — more cups, scraps of clothing, a dented metal sign with only the letters CAU readable on its rusted face, bits of tangled fishing line, a small net, and a wooden smoking pipe.
Near the bottom of the barrel, she discovered a square metal container. She reached in with both hands, leaning against the rim, and after a few seconds of struggling, grasped the box by its sides. It was heavier than she’d expected, and her arms strained as she lifted it. Something rattled inside when she tilted it.
Crouching, she set the box on the ground and checked the latches. They were locked.
Macy scowled, huffed, and shoved herself up to rummage through the assortment of tools in the other bins. She found a flathead screwdriver and tossed it down beside the box before moving to the edge of the island. Laying on her stomach, she reached into the water and felt around on the bottom until she found a fist-sized rock.
She returned to the box, knelt, and angled it so the latches were faceup. Picking up the screwdriver, she wedged its tip into the narrow seam between the latch and the casing. She hammered it in until the first latch popped and repeated the process for the other one.
Setting her tools aside, she laid the box flat and opened the lid.
An eclectic collection of items lay within. She took them out one by one, studying each individually. First was a small, pink bottle. She removed the cap; the contents were dry, but an unfamiliar floral scent lingered inside.
Next was a flat piece of plastic. When her thumb touched the corner, a hologram flickered on, displaying a man and a woman standing together, arms around each other’s shoulders. They were smiling. Macy brushed her hand through the image, and it changed — the same woman from the first, this time with two other women and a man, all dressed in the blue jumpsuits.
The hologram flickered again, distorting the image before it vanished completely. Frowning, Macy set it aside and turned her attention to the other items. In a small, fabric-lined box she found a necklace with a thin, golden chain and a tear-shaped gemstone in a delicate setting. The stone was clear, but when she turned it toward the light, it broke the rays into a rainbow of color.
After the necklace were four glass vials, all the same size and shape. Each contained a bit of dirt. One was labeled Earth; the next, which had a red tint, was labeled Mars; the third was nearly black, marked Tau Ceti III. The last of them held the rich, familiar brown soil she’d worked in for years, and was labeled Halora.
It was clear these objects had belonged to a woman — and that woman must’ve been one of the original colonists. Macy didn’t recognize Mars or Tau Ceti, but she knew about Earth. That was the human homeworld. A place she’d only seen in pictures. The owner of these items had traveled impossible distances to get to Halora.
Carefully setting the vials back inside the container, Macy picked up the last object. It reminded her of the wrist attachment on the PDS, though this was a bit larger. She slid her thumb over its surface.
A small, soft light came on, and a hologram materialized above the device. The rectangular projection was a list of some sort; when Macy flicked her finger up and down, the items cycled. Little of it made sense. Some of the listings were clearly names, but she didn’t know any of the people, and they were always paired with some sort of title. She pressed one.
Sound blared from the device. Startled, Macy nearly dropped it. She stared at the hologram, which had morphed into a small orb of light that pulsed and changed colors with the beat of the music.
Macy had never heard anything like it. Music was popular in The Watch, serving as a primary means of entertainment — drums, fiddles, and flutes, mostly, and there was even a guitar that had been passed through one family. But the sounds and tones coming from the hologram were alien to her. She couldn’t imagine what instruments had produced them. The music was upbeat, and the rhythm vibrated through her.
She grinned, fascinated, and bobbed her head to the beat. Was this what music used to sound like when the colony was new? It was…amazing.
Macy set the device down and rose. It had been a long while since she’d danced; since she’d let herself go. She closed her eyes and let the beat wash over her. Though it was foreign, the sound flowed through her; she rocked her hips, raised her arms, and let the music sweep away her conscious thought.
The song ended, and another began immediately; the differences between the two were clear, but she didn’t stop moving, easily transitioning into the new rhythm.
“Macy?”
She spun at the sound of Jax’s voice. “Jax!”
He was on the island with the retrieved container on the ground before him. Rivulets of water ran down his muscled form, pooling on the ground. She ran to him, shoved aside the container with her foot, and hugged him.
“You’re back!” She pulled away and grabbed his hands, tugging him along. “Come dance with me!”
His brow furrowed, but he didn’t resist as she led him to the center of the island. He glanced at the music device. “Where did you get that?”
“It was in a locked container at the bottom of the barrel.”
“What is the noise it is making?”
“Music.” She laughed, releasing his hands, and swayed to the sound. “Dance with me, Jax. Just move to the sound.”
Jax’s eyes dropped to follow the motion of her hips.
Macy chuckled and guided his hands to her waist. “Like this.”
He watched for a few more seconds before mimicking her movement, swaying his hips from side to side. She settled her hands on his shoulders, and their gazes met. Soon, he fell into Macy’s rhythm, and their bodies moved in unison; push and pull, back and forth, lost in the beat.
Macy couldn’t contain her joy. Jax’s tentacles curled and twisted, waves of movement pulsing through their lengths to match the waves of sound. Any hesitancy he displayed in the beginning was gone.
The music changed again; the next song had a slower beat, but it was deeper, sensual; the notes repeatedly built toward a climax and dropped off
before reaching it.
Her eyes locked with Jax’s. His face was serious, focused, his gaze intense. The way he looked at her sent a thrill through her body, making her pulse quicken.
He slid his hands along her sides, first up toward her ribs and then down, over her hips and to her outer thighs. His tentacles brushed her calves and the backs of her bare knees.
Macy’s smile faded, and her laughter died. She was consumed with want. Days of unquenched desire rushed back, flooding her core with heat.
Suddenly, her dress was rough and constricting against her skin, rasping over her hardened nipples, adding to her discomfort.
Her breath grew ragged as they moved to the new rhythm, and Jax drew increasingly closer, his touch more desperate and insistent with every passing moment. He drew back with each fall in the music. He was hypnotic, carnal, luring her in, mesmerizing her.
She stepped closer, breaking their rhythm to wrap her arms around his neck.
Jax enfolded her in his arms. His tentacles slipped around her thighs and lifted her off the ground, pressing her against him. Macy’s legs reflexively encircled his hips. He leaned his head down, and she rose to meet him.
Their lips fused.
Neither of them held back. They branded one another with their mouths. It was everything it had been before, and more.
Macy flicked her tongue over his lips, savoring the salty taste of his skin. Instead of pulling away, Jax opened his mouth, allowing her to delve in.
Tentatively, he touched his tongue to hers, and that was all it took. He seized command of the kiss, deepened it, and stole her breath. It was raw. Demanding. Scintillating.
Lust surged through her.
Macy’s thighs squeezed his hips, and she dug her heels into his lower back to pull him closer. She needed more; more heat, more contact, more skin against skin. She slid a hand down his back and the other to his neck. It wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly enough.
She pressed her chest against his.
Jax’s hand slipped into her hair, taking hold and guiding her deeper into the kiss. His other hand dropped to her backside and squeezed.
Her hips jerked, and she gasped into his mouth. She tilted her head back, and he grazed her throat with lips and teeth. Delight rushed along every nerve in her body.
“Jax,” Macy said with a throaty sigh.
He growled her name; it rumbled from his chest and into her, stronger and more provocative than the music. He tensed, kneading her flesh, and Macy heard the clack of his closing teeth near her ear. Something hard and slick jutted out beneath her, nestling against the crevice between her ass cheeks. It felt like no other part of his body. She knew enough about males to guess what it was.
She raised her head. His features were drawn, his lips pressed tight.
“Jax? What’s wrong?”
He held her gaze for a few moments, and then she felt him pulling away, hand falling from her hair to shoulder, attempting to put space between them.
“Don’t,” she said.
Jax stilled. Macy cupped his jaw and brushed her thumb over his cheek.
“Don’t,” she repeated gently.
“This is not what you want,” he rasped.
“Isn’t it?”
His brow furrowed, and his pupils expanded as he searched her face.
The music thumped, distant and forgotten, overpowered by the heavy, quick beat of Macy’s heart. She wanted Jax more than she could express. Perhaps it was wrong, or unnatural, and part of her was scared…but she didn’t care about that.
She’d told him she was his; now she wanted to be his.
And she wanted Jax to be hers, too.
Without releasing her hold on him, she leaned to the side. Jax slipped his other hand to her ass, supporting her, as she turned off the music. The familiar roar of the waterfall returned to prominence, backed by the quieter cries of the sea from outside. It was music that suited Jax far better.
She righted herself and looked at him. The urgency of her lust had waned, but its strength was undiminished. With her skin overly sensitive, her breasts heavier, and her sex wet with need, Macy felt like a stranger in her own body.
That lent a new sense of excitement to the experience.
Jax tipped his head down, pressing his forehead to hers, and inhaled. He slid a tentacle up each of her legs. They coiled lightly around her calves and brushed her inner thighs.
Macy gasped at the sensation.
“Your scent is maddening, Macy.” His shaft throbbed against her backside.
She flushed; knowing he could smell her was unsettling and arousing at once. Closing her eyes, she moved her hand from his face to the back of his head.
“I’ve never done this,” Macy said. “I’m…not sure what to do, but I’m not…I’m not uncertain of you, Jax.”
His clawed hands flexed. “I don’t want to frighten you. We are…different. I am not like the man your suit showed you.”
“I know, and I don’t care.” Macy laughed softly and shook her head. “Maybe I should, but I don’t. I…I want to see. To know you. To…explore you.” She brushed her lips against his. “I want you.”
Jax’s shaft slid along her thighs and stomach as he lowered her, and he shuddered. When she was on her feet, he moved back.
Macy watched his face, noting the vulnerability in his eyes. She understood his concern — that she’d find him repulsive, that she’d truly think him a monster — just as she knew it was unfounded. She lowered her eyes to his broad shoulders and their markings, along his torso, over ridges of muscle draped in velvety-soft skin.
Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she forced her gaze lower, past the darkened skin, stopping on his jutting shaft. Her eyes widened, and she exhaled in a rush. It was long, thick, and glistening with a sheen of moisture, its color lightening toward its rimmed tip.
But she wasn’t shocked by his lack of a scrotum, or that he secreted his own lubrication; no, it was the thin, two-centimeter-long feelers around the base of his shaft that caught her off guard. She knew exactly where those would touch.
“Macy…”
She looked up. The vulnerability in his eyes now warred with the tension in his posture. His hands were fisted at his sides, shoulders squared, chin angled down. Macy stepped closer.
Jax held his ground, nostrils and siphons flaring.
Dropping her gaze again, she reached for him. His erection twitched as she held her hand over it until she finally wrapped her fingers around his girth. It was warm and hard, his soft skin made slick by its coating.
A tremor coursed through Jax, and he released a shuddering breath.
Encouraged by his reaction, she slid her fist to the base of his shaft, where the small tendrils moved over her hand with surprising strength. She stroked one with her finger.
Jax groaned. The feeler ran along Macy’s finger with an almost rhythmic, undulating flutter.
Exhaling, Macy squeezed her thighs together. No, she didn’t feel repulsion toward him. There was only pure, undeniable desire; she saw him, felt him, wanted him.
He wrapped a tentacle around her wrist and withdrew her hand from his shaft, guiding it to his chest and releasing it. Before she could react, his hands fell onto her thighs and slid up, hooking the hem of her dress.
Macy caught his wrists. He paused, meeting her gaze, and resumed the upward motion of his hands. She didn’t resist. A tentacle followed in the wake of each of his palms, suction cups brushing lightly over her outer thighs before curling around to trace the curve of her backside.
She shivered when his touch flowed over her hips and along her sides, the air cool against her heated skin as more of it was gradually exposed. The tip of a tentacle crossed the flat of her stomach and caressed the underside of her breasts. She raised her arms as his hands moved up their lengths, pushing the dress up and off, and her hair fell around her naked shoulders.
Instinct demanded she cover herself, but Jax held her arms apart, keeping her bared to
his hungry, gleaming gaze.
Jax settled his gaze on Macy’s face and followed the lines of her jaw, down over her chin and along the column of her neck. He lingered at the hollow of her throat, nearing the edge of the familiar; her dress had hidden most everything below this point. The unknown, as ever, called to him.
He lowered his eyes and took in the swell of her breasts; they were more defined than those of female kraken, which were less pronounced when not nursing young. The erect buds of her nipples were deeper pink than the rest of her skin.
Lower still; his gaze slipped over her stomach, past the slight dip of her belly button and the flared curves of her hips. He paused his attention briefly on the triangular patch of golden hair between her legs, which coaxed his eye downward a little farther.
Coiling his tentacles more firmly around her thighs, he spread them wider, allowing him a glimpse of the pink flesh of her slit.
How had he resisted for so long? How had he touched her, been touched by her, and not yet given in to the consuming fire of his needs?
“You are beautiful.” His voice was husky, nearly a growl. He looked up and met her half-lidded eyes.
“Jax…”
He slid his hands up her arms and over her shoulders, then back down to cover her breasts. Her smooth, firm flesh yielded to his touch, and Macy closed her eyes and arched into his palms. He kneaded gently before he took her nipples between the pads of his fingers and stroked them.
Macy grasped his biceps and moaned.
Jax moved his tentacle down from her stomach, over the patch of hair, and ran the tip slowly along her folds.
She gasped, opening her eyes wide. Her legs jerked, squeezing against his hold.
Her arousal coated his tentacle with moisture; its sweetness on his suction cups was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His mouth watered with the desire to taste her on his tongue.
Panting, Macy tightened her grip on his arms and subtly tilted her hips into his touch. Jax moved his tentacle again. Her entire body reacted, and she whimpered his name.
Treasure of the Abyss (The Kraken Book 1) Page 15
