by Ruby Dixon
I'm an adult, I remind myself. I'm on an ice planet and I'll never see my mother again. I can do what I want. But old habits die hard, and I end up peeling away from the group and then sticking to the shadows. I head for the “back” of the encampment. I know exactly the section that A'tam is talking about. Most of the camp is set up to the west of the women's cave, where all of the girls pile in and sleep. There's clusters of tents there, and in the center of everything is the communal campfire. There's talk of a longhouse being built, but nothing's been done with that yet.
North of the women's cave, down a blind canyon, is the “back” of the camp. It's where the makeshift toilet tents are set up. It's where messy projects are left to air out so no one has to walk around a massive half-scraped hide all day, or a bucket full of piss that's fermenting for dye.
In short, no one hangs out in this canyon.
Perfect place for a rendezvous if you need quiet, but maybe not if you need a romantic atmosphere.
It's cold out tonight, the bite in the air noticeable now that I'm not distracted by party games. I cross my arms over my chest and shiver as I head up. As I do, my boot hits something that skids across the sands, and I bend down to pick it up. Another broken piece of bone dining ware. This one's a half a spoon. It seems like daily we break something new, and it makes me sad. Everyone puts so much effort into carving the basic dishes we need, and yet they snap and break from overuse, or get brittle from heat. I wish we had sturdier plates and bowls. Vases that actually held a decent amount of water instead of the tiny bowls or leather pouches we use.
We need pottery. I consider this as I study the broken spoon. Maybe not pottery spoons, of course, but bowls and cups and dishes would make our lives so much easier. No one's created any. The sa-khui don't seem to be aware of another way to do things, and those of us from Earth don't have the skills. It's like knitting. Yeah, it'd be great if we could, but…how?
Except I took a class on pottery once. It was during one summer, when I was supposed to go home and stay with my mother. She'd just been laid off from dance school and had recently been hitting up my sperm donor (we won't call him a father) for cash. I was dreading going home and enduring my mother's raging for three months, so I signed up for a bunch of summer courses instead. I took a pottery class then, and while most of it was dealing with a kiln and pottery wheel, we also did a week of primitive ceramics.
That's…something I can do.
The thought fills me with excitement. I look around at the cliffs. I've seen threads of clay running through the rocks before, and I vaguely remember how to filter clay from water. It'll take a lot of trial and error, but if I can do this…I can be a benefit to the camp. I won't be a useless freeloader.
No one's accused me of being such, of course, but I feel like one. Now that we've been here a month, a lot of people are settling into tasks they're particularly good at. Raven's good with skins. Hannah handles the stored food supplies. Nadine and Penny love hunting. Some people are focusing on sewing, or cooking. I've kind of flailed at everything. But…I could do this.
The moment I decide to try pottery, I also decide I'm going to do it in secret. If no one knows what I'm up to, no one will be able to pick at me for going slowly, or doing things wrong. I know it's going to be trial and error, but if I'm also the only one that knows what I'm up to, I'll be able to tackle it at my own speed.
And if I fail…no one else needs to know how badly I suck.
I pocket the broken spoon and look at the walls of the cliffs. There's a few tiny caves here and there, tucked into the rocks. A lot of them are too small to be used for much, so I can claim one and set up a workshop. Just grab a few candles, some bowls and get to work. I'm excited. Pottery would be such a helpful thing, and I'd love the chance to show that I really do belong. That I'm worth having around. I'm sure a lot of that worry falls back from my childhood, thanks to my messed-up mother, but whatever.
I'm going to make pots for everyone, and I can hardly wait to get started. I move along the wall of the narrow canyon, looking for deposits of clay and touching rocks. I'm so focused on the idea of my new project that I forget all about my rendezvous. I forget that I'm sneaking out to meet a guy.
I forget all about A'tam until a big hand clamps down on my shoulder and scares the living daylights out of me.
Biting back a squeal, I jerk around and nearly stumble. A'tam immediately grabs me by the waist, hauling me against him, and I manage to remain upright. "You scared the shit out of me," I whisper.
"How? You knew you were coming out here to meet me." His eyes narrow. "Unless you wished to meet someone else?"
Normally I'd find his jealousy cute, but right now, I'm still thinking about pottery. "No, I was just distracted by a project. I'm going to make something."
"What?"
I just smile at him. "It's a secret. I'll tell you once I'm good at it."
He doesn't smile back. If anything, he looks kind of cranky.
It's not like A'tam at all. He's generally very easy to get along with and doesn't take life too seriously. Tonight, though, he seems agitated. His tail is flicking and there's a tense set to his shoulders. I eye him suspiciously. "Something wrong? You seem like you're in a bad mood."
"The game tonight," he says immediately. "The one with the mouth matings."
"Spin the bottle?"
A'tam shrugs, as if the name is unimportant. "Did you like it?"
Did I like the game? "I guess it was fine? I haven't played anything like that since I was a teenager." I manage a smile. "I think Tia had more fun than anyone, though. Did you enjoy it?"
"You mouth mated with R'jaal and I'rec. No, I did not enjoy it." He gives me a dark look. "I did not like that at all."
He's jealous. Maybe I should be annoyed that he's deciding to be all possessive, but secretly, it thrills me. No one's ever wanted me above all others. My father wanted nothing to do with me or my mother. My mother thought I was a constant disappointment. I was too short and solid to be a professional dancer, too clumsy, too. I looked too much like my father. I didn't have a sweet personality. I wasn't pretty enough. I don't think there was anything about me that she liked, come to think of it. The only thing she appreciated? The large child support payments my father sent her way.
But A'tam wants me. He's actually sulking because I'rec and R'jaal kissed me. R'jaal, who doesn't interest me in the slightest, and I'rec, who kissed badly, his mouth too hard on mine. Plus, I couldn't get over the sensation that he wanted to be kissing Tia, not me. So was the game fun? It wasn't terrible, and I laughed a lot, but I don't know if I'd do it again.
I do like the jealousy, though. "Did you like kissing Penny and Tia?"
He scoffs as if I've said something dumb. Doesn't let go of me, either. Just keeps holding me against him, even though I'm in no danger of tripping anymore.
"Then why did you agree to play?" I ask softly. My heart is racing in my chest, and I know the answer—I just know it—but I want to hear him say it. I want to revel in the words being said aloud.
A'tam doesn't take the bait, though. He just gazes down at me, that intense, possessive look on his face. "You know why I played."
"Because you wanted to kiss me?" I'm tired of flirting around the edges of what we want. Time to get it all out in the open. I slide my hand up his chest and to the back of his neck. "Or is there someone else that played that you have your sights on?"
His gaze dips to my mouth. "You know I want to mate my mouth with yours."
"Then why haven't you?" I tilt my head, regarding him.
For the first time, he looks flustered. His tail swishes wildly in a wide, frantic motion. "Because…I do not know how it is done."
How sweet. I put my other hand on his cheek, rubbing my knuckles along his beard. To my surprise, it's utterly soft, not bristly and hard like a human man's would be. I know I'm being all bold and grabby, but A'tam doesn't look displeased with my handsiness. If anything, he looks thrilled. "If you want kissin
g practice, all you had to do is ask."
He groans and pulls me closer against him. For a moment, his tail flicks against my leg, as if he wants to grab onto me with it. Just as quickly, it flicks away again. "I want to mate mouths with you."
"Kissing," I murmur. "It's called kissing." I touch him under his chin, trying to get him to lean forward, but he's too tall for me. The height disparity is far too much between us. "And I should probably stand on a rock so our faces can be level—"
Before I finish the statement, he's hauling me a foot off the ground and thumping me onto the nearest rock. My boots slip atop the icy surface, and I anchor my hands on his shoulders again, eyes wide.
Okay, he's a man of action. I can get behind that.
"Better?" he asks, and the look on his face is a mixture of anticipation and lust. "Can we mouth mate now?"
"I don't see why not." I tilt my head back. "Do you want to know all the ins and outs first or—"
Again, before I can complete what I'm saying, A'tam is into action. His mouth is on mine, hot and fierce and urgent. I make a noise of surprise, my hands tightening on his shoulders. He's not wearing a fur cloak despite the chill, and my fingers press into firm, warm skin that feels like velvet. His mouth feels incredible, too. His lips are full and soft, even if he's sliding them over mine without much skill.
All men kiss differently, though, and it's just adjusting to how he touches. I adjust under his mouth, pulling away and then pressing my lips to his in light, flirty touches. He pauses in his movements, gazing at me with dazed wonder as I nibble carefully on his lower lip, then sweep my tongue over the places that I've lightly bitten. I nip at his full mouth, taking my sweet time, as if nothing matters other than a slow, thorough exploration of A'tam's succulent mouth. It turns me on, too. I love the slight rasping of his breath, love that it hitches when I nip on his lip, love the taste of him. His tail flits against my leg again, and his hands move restlessly on my torso.
"Kissing is a two-way street," I murmur as I lift my head. "You can kiss me, too."
A'tam's smile flashes and then he cups my face in both his hands and kisses me with unbridled enthusiasm. It's a little more skilled than the first round, though, and I enjoy it. By the time he lifts his head, I'm ready to take things to the next level. When he pulls away, I lean forward and lick at his mouth.
He stares at me, dumbfounded. "You licked me, B'shit."
"Bridget," I correct, pushing down the flash of annoyance I feel at the name. "And kissing involves tongues, too. Want me to show you?" When he groans, I decide to take that as a yes and continue the education. I kiss him lightly again and brush my tongue against the part of his lips. It takes two attempts before he gets the hint, and then he parts his lips even wider, letting me inside. I tease my tongue into his mouth, flicking lightly and exploring him. His fangs scrape against my tongue, but it only adds to the sexy thrill of things…as does the realization that his tongue has all kinds of ridges on it, just like his cock does.
Oh boy. Now my mind is on fire with possibility. I whimper.
A'tam groans and locks his arms around me, and his tongue barrels into my mouth with zero subtlety. I don't mind—it's all about the kissing now, and we're both attacking each other with fierce, unbridled need.
His hand slides to my ass, squeezing it, and I realize things are going to get out of control very quickly if I don't say something. While I love the kissing—and I do—I also don't want to make out behind the outhouses. "A'tam," I say, pulling away. "I should go."
"Go?" The look he gives me is glazed with hunger and confusion. "Go where?"
I bite back a chuckle of amusement. "Go to bed. Go to sleep."
He pulls me tight against him again, his mouth on mine. "You should come to my furs."
"Aren't you sleeping in a tent with I'rec and the others?" When he shrugs, that decides it. He might not care if we fool around in front of the others, but I sure do. "Not tonight."
He grunts and kisses me again. "Tomorrow, then."
"We'll see." He's always so damn impatient, A'tam.
"Tomorrow," he repeats firmly as I slide out of his grasp.
I have a feeling my answer is going to be the same tomorrow as it is tonight. If there's no privacy, we're not doing anything. But I just give him a coy, playful smile and walk away. My head's buzzing from our kisses, and suddenly this snowy world is very full of promise.
5
DAYS LATER
BRIDGET
It's finally happening. Tonight's the night.
I go to bed early, watching through my lashes and pretending to sleep as person after person files into the women's cave. Tia yawns widely, and Raven thumps her pillow a few times, but eventually everyone settles down and goes to sleep. All gets quiet. I'm wide awake, though. It feels a bit like I'm back in boarding school, getting ready to sneak out. If my mother caught me, I'd be grounded for months. Or worse, she'd send me to a brand new boarding school where I didn’t know anyone. Either way, the goal was to make me completely miserable, all for a little bit of fun. My mother didn't want me happy, I think. She was a miserable person, so she was determined to make everyone else around her miserable, too.
I shake off the thought, because that life feels a million years away. I'm not on Earth anymore. Heck, I'm not even a teenager. I'm a grown woman at the age of twenty-three, and I can sneak out to go spend time with a guy if I want to.
But because I am who I am, I'm utterly quiet as I slide out from under my furs, fully dressed. I fluff my pillow and roll up my clothes so it looks as if I'm still sleeping under the mountain of furs, and then I tiptoe past the other sleeping women, my breath fogging in the chilly night air. I half-expect to get caught. Like someone's going to wake up and say my name and then everyone will know I'm sneaking out to see A'tam. No one wakes up, though, and I make it outside the cave with ease.
It's late, and no one's sitting by the main fire pit. The coals are banked, giving a dim orange glow, and the scattered seating of stones and logs is empty. I move past them, wincing as my shoes crunch on the pebbled sands. I should move slower, but if I do, I risk getting seen. So I quicken my pace and head toward the water and the distant cliffs. There's a nervous flutter in my stomach and it only increases as I move toward the line of huts hugging the cliffs.
Somewhere over there, A'tam is waiting for me.
Ever since the islanders arrived, things have been different and exciting on the beach. I mean, it's been kind of crazy ever since we were rescued from the belly of an alien ship and I still have a hard time believing that there's no going home. It hasn't quite sunk in that this primitive life on an icy planet is now what I get to look forward to. Sometimes I wake up and expect to be back in my apartment, waiting for my alarm to go off so I can head into rush hour traffic for another achingly boring day at work. But that unsettled feeling has slowly disappeared, and it's been replaced with something new ever since the islanders arrived.
Lust.
I have it so, so bad for A'tam. If I was building the perfect man, A'tam would hit all of those marks.
And the moment he arrived, A'tam made it clear he was interested in me. The hottest guy on the beach…with me. Bridget Wooten-Fuller, who is so boring and unappealing that my beautiful mother made it a point to tell me that repeatedly. Who's had maybe a handful of relationships in all my life, and all of them ended with a guy breaking up with me because I didn't excite him enough. On this planet, though, I'm exciting and alluring, and I fully admit it's flattering. I totally lean into it, too. I'm a little flirtier here, a little bolder. I play the kissing games with confidence, and I tease the men as much as any other girl does.
A'tam never takes his gaze off of me, either.
It's hugely flattering that the hottest guy here wants me. That he looks at all the faces of the women here, and I'm the one he chooses. It's been smoldering between us since that night of spin the bottle. It's been a stream of flirting and running into each other, of teasing jokes and longi
ng gazes and a few stolen kisses when no one was looking.
And tonight, we’re moving past that.
I head to his hut. Earlier tonight, at dinner, he leaned close and invited me to come take a look at his home after dark, when everyone else is asleep. The meaning of that is loud and clear. We’ve been stealing kisses for days and days now, but the fact that there’s no privacy has always been a sticking point.
There’s privacy now, though. And his meaning is loud and clear.
I'm a little nervous, but mostly, I'm excited. This is a new life, a new me, and who knows what tomorrow's going to bring? So I'm going to enjoy today, and I'm going to enjoy a furtive hook-up with a smoking hot guy with a banging body who absolutely cannot get me pregnant.
There are zero downsides to this.
I move toward the cliffs and the line-up of huts makes me pause. In the dark, they all look the same. Each one is built on a low platform of wood to keep it off the sand, and then it's mortared rock walls with a teepee-like domed roof with a smoke-hole. Several of them have tiny curls of smoke coming up from the apex, because of course. It's late and people are keeping their huts warm. I suddenly panic, though, because in the dark I can't tell which one is A'tam's hut. I don't want to go knocking on the wrong guy's hut or it'll be all over the camp in the morning.
And we're deliberately sneaking around because I don't want anyone to know that we're going to hook up. It's a small, gossipy group, but we're allowed to have some secrets, right? I hope?
Someone pulls a flap back on one of the huts, peering out into the night. I freeze and then let out a sigh of relief when I see it's A’tam. He grins at the sight of me, his teeth bright against his shadow-darkened blue skin. Am I really doing this? Yes, I am, I decide as I take a few steps forward. It's just sex. Sex means nothing. Women are allowed to have meaningless hookups, too. I can do a one-night stand.
So I put a casual, easy smile on my face and join him in his hut.
A'tam closes the flap behind me, and then he's standing at my side. This close together, he's huge. I'm average height for a woman, maybe a little on the shorter side, but A'tam is enormous. He's near seven feet tall and powerfully built, and I feel tiny next to him. Delicate.
