Callie's Catastrophe: Icehome Book 9

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Callie's Catastrophe: Icehome Book 9 Page 15

by Dixon, Ruby


  "Take your clothes off," I snap at him. "They're soaked." I pull my layers off, stripping down to my tunic and leggings.

  He does without protest, and I can see his clothing icing up even as he drops it to the snow. The moment his chest is bare, I hand him the fur poncho I strap over my tunic, and after he puts that on, I drape my cloak over his shoulders. He keeps his loincloth on but takes off his leggings and I wince at the sight of his soaked boots. "We've got to get you inside where it's warm.

  "Warm…seems…wise," he manages between chattering teeth. The fingers that hold onto the neck of my cloak seem darker blue than the rest of him and I worry about frostbite. A cootie can only do so much, right? And his has been distracted with resonance for the last two months, weakening us both. Now he might die, all because I didn't want to jump on his dick.

  I’m stricken with a sudden rush of guilt and regret.

  He starts to gather his wet clothes in his arms and I slap them out of his grip. "You take the pack. I'll get the clothes. Can you walk fast if you do?”

  "I will…manage," he says, jaw clacking.

  Terrified, I nod. "Then let's sprint, all right?" I didn't sprint on the way here, but I'm sure going to find the energy for it on the way back. Somehow.

  20

  CALLIE

  It's the longest walk-slash-run of my life. Even though it's cold as tits, we can see the path we plowed through the snow on the way to the lake, and so going back isn't nearly as dangerous and takes far less time. I clutch the icy pile of his clothing to my chest, and I don't even feel the chill myself. I'm too terrified of him getting sick and dying. I keep picturing what's going to happen if we don't get him to warmth in time and I grab his cold hand over and over again, forcing him to walk faster every time he slows down. I didn't think I could move so fast for so long, but here I am, huffing and puffing up the steep, icy ridges like one of those dvisti-goats as we head back to the cave. I've never been so happy to see anything as when we see the yawning mouth of it.

  We make our way inside and just being out of the wind feels warmer. M'tok starts to bend by the fire, and I slap at his chest and drop his wet clothing. "Come on. I'll take care of that. You strip down."

  He frowns at me, as if trying to comprehend what I'm saying, and that worries me a little. I toss more fuel onto the fire without babying it and grab his ice-cold hand and lead him to my furs, where the pile of blankets is the biggest. I drop to my knees and pry the iced-over leather straps of his boots free, freeing his big feet as he lifts them for me, his ice-tipped tail flicking back and forth.

  Once he's naked, I don't even care that his khui is humming or his cock is stiff. None of that matters. It's a fact of life when you fight resonance like we have, and I ignore it as I run my hands all over his body, looking for injuries. He's far too cold for my liking, and his jaw keeps clacking, his body shivering. "You're a fucking idiot, "I tell him, furious beyond words. Still terrified, too. "Wait here and I'll get you some tea to warm up."

  "You are mad," M'tok points out unhelpfully.

  No shit I'm mad. I'm so mad I can't think straight and I'm not even sure why I'm mad at him, just that I am. I pull the blankets around his body tightly, ignoring the hiss of breath when my hands brush past his cock, and then I grab one of the cups, the pouch of tea leaves, and stomp my way to the back reaches of the cave where the hot water trickles in. As I hold the cup and slowly fill it, I take deep, solidifying breaths. Or I try to, anyhow. And as I do, I hate that stupid tears keep falling down my face.

  I've never been so terrified in my life.

  I thought he was going to die in front of me and that I'd be helpless to save him. That he'd leave me here all alone again in this frozen hellscape and…and why does that upset me so much? I'm supposed to hate him. Part of me still does hate him, but a larger, dumber part of me is growing fond of him. If he left me…I'd be sad.

  I'd be more than sad.

  I'm not in love with the guy—it's too soon for anything of that nature—but I'm growing to care for him. More than that, I feel like he understands me now, and I understand him. We're bonding, even if the whole “resonance” thing is still up in the air, and I don't want anything to happen to that bond. I swipe at my nose and sniff, then add herbs to the cup as the water trickles in. I can't stop thinking about how he almost left me.

  Alone.

  Again.

  It's devastating to think about. He was going to die over stupid fish. I can't believe that. Then we'd never resonate and have babies and maybe, maybe fall in love. I'd never have the family I always thought would be in my future, and I'd always be alone and lonely and scared. I'm angry that I'm thinking of myself, too, but if I think about M'tok, I'll just get mad. And terrified. And even madder.

  Why is it he makes me so damned crazy?

  By the time the cup is filled up, I've mostly stopped crying.

  I return to his side and see that he's poking at the fire with his spear, adjusting the mess I made of it, and his blankets are falling off his shoulders. Clearly the man doesn't know how to take care of himself. "Drink this," I bark at him. "And I don't want to hear any bullshit coming out of your mouth."

  M'tok turns and gives me a baffled look, and I know I'm being bitchy. It's either that or start crying again. But he takes the tea from my hands and lifts it to his too-blue lips and takes a sip. He grimaces at the heat and sets it back down again, pulling at the blankets, and I notice his teeth are still chattering. His pale blue skin is raised all over with goosebumps and I worry he's not getting warm enough fast enough.

  Well, I know how to share body warmth as much as the next person. I strip off what's left of my clothing and ignore the heated look he gives me. "Move over. I have to warm you up."

  "Perhaps I should fall into the ice more often," he murmurs, setting the cup of tea by the fire and opening the blankets to welcome me in.

  I don't punch him for that comment, as much as I want to. Instead, I put a hand on his chest and push him down into the blankets. "Lie back."

  His eyes gleam with heat, and his cootie—and mine—starts going wild. A rush of need flares through me but I ignore it. I'm too angry and freaked out and a million other things to be thinking sexy thoughts right now. I lie down next to him, avoiding eye contact, and push my skin to his. My nipples brush against his chest and I lock an arm around his waist, then hook one of my legs around his. For the first time in my life, I'm happy I have thick thighs, because it means there's a lot of me to warm him.

  M'tok groans as I wrap myself around him.

  "Better?" I whisper, worry creeping past the fear again. "I don't like how cold you are."

  "This is better than anything." His hands slide around me, and I shiver at how cool his fingers are. He's always been so warm before and I don't like this. It scares the crap out of me.

  "Can you feel all your toes?" I ask as we huddle under the blankets. "Your fingers? Your tail?"

  In response, he slides his hands lower, to my ample butt, and presses each one of his fingertips against my backside. "I can feel them." His breath is rasping, his mouth close to my brow. His tail slides around one of my ankles and latches there. "And my toes are fine."

  "Put them against my leg if they're cold," I whisper. "I can handle it."

  “You should have folded your clothes properly,” he murmurs, his nose rubbing against my hair in a way that makes my nipples harden. “The cave will be a mess if we do not put things away.”

  “You have such a hard-on for organization.” I’m grumbling at him, but it comes out pretty breathless and I can feel how erect he is. His cock is pressing against the soft parts of my belly, reminding me that not all of him is affected by the cold.

  “I am not hard for organizing,” he says, his breath warm on my face. “I am hard for my female.” His hands clench my ass, kneading it gently. “I wonder if she knows how beautiful I find her, and how much I enjoy touching her softness.”

  Breathless, I look up at him, daring to
make eye contact for the first time since getting naked and plastering myself to him. “She has an idea.”

  M’tok gazes down at me for a long, intense moment, and his hands continue to knead my ass, massaging my butt idly as he watches me. Then, he leans down and brushes his mouth against my forehead. He lifts one hand to my chin and tilts my face up, then brushes his mouth against the tip of my nose. Then lightly over my mouth.

  The big alien just kissed me. It was the briefest of kisses, but there’s no mistaking it.

  “Is that how humans show affection?” he murmurs. “Because I wish to show it.”

  “It’s a real good start,” I say, breathless.

  “I did not mean to worry you.” His fingers lightly skate over the lower half of my face, caressing it. “I never want to make you cry.”

  Did he hear that? How embarrassing. “I just don’t want you to die, okay? Not when I’m starting to tolerate you.”

  He chuckles, his mouth tugging into one of those sly grins. “Only tolerance?”

  I pinch my finger and forefinger, indicating just a teeny tiny bit.

  “Were you just tolerating me when I touched this little bump between your thighs and made you come?” His intense gaze holds mine as he deliberately slides his knuckles down between my heavy breasts, down my belly, and then rests his hand over my pussy.

  “I can tolerate a lot,” I tell him. “Can you?”

  And I mimic his touch, pulling back ever so slightly so I can slide my hand down his chest, all the way down to the erect length of his cock. He’s so hard he’s leaving trails of precum on my skin, and his entire body twitches in response when I clasp him in my hand.

  “Calida,” he says in that accented, breathy way that’s so damned sexy. “Touch me.”

  I do. He doesn’t have to ask twice. As he tucks his chin over the top of my head and holds me close, I stroke the length of his cock over and over again. I do light, feathery, exploratory strokes at first, but as he breathes harder, I tighten my grip and work just the head of his cock, squeezing and pulling and rubbing until he covers my hand with his, making a fist, and fucks it hard. His seed spills over my stomach and hip, hot and sticky, and I can’t stop the little gasp of arousal that escapes me when he comes.

  So messy. So sexy. I love seeing Mr. Control lose all of that control.

  He groans again, then presses his mouth to the top of my head once more, and I wish I was tall enough that we could kiss in this moment. I wriggle up the blankets until we’re face to face and brush my lips over his. “Did you like that?”

  His mouth parts under mine as I give him another kiss. And another. I keep peppering his face with small, hot kisses, just because I’m all turned on and can’t help myself.

  “There is nothing better than your touch and you know it,” he whispers, and nips at my lower lip even as he pushes his hand between my thighs and slides his fingers through my soaking folds. “Now let me do the same for you.”

  M’tok finds my clit and I suck in a breath, then kiss him fiercely, teasing my tongue against the seam of his mouth. It’s like he realizes that tongues can be used, too, because the next thing I know, I’m on my back with his hand working between my legs, teasing my most sensitive of spots as his mouth slants over mine and claims me with one deep tongue stroke after another. I’m moaning and moving underneath him, so hot and slippery and needy that I’m positively aching inside. It doesn’t take long for me to come explosively, clinging to him even as his mouth devours mine. He keeps touching me, wringing every bit of pleasure out of my orgasm until I’m twitching with aftershocks. It isn’t until he collapses on the blankets next to me and slides his hand through the wet seed on my belly that I realize what we’ve done.

  Like it or not, we’ve taken the next step forward.

  And as he slides his seed-coated fingers between my thighs and begins to touch me again, I’m not sure if he’s doing that because he needs to claim me or because he knows it feels good…

  And I’m not even sure I care. All I know is I don’t want it to end. I turn toward him and his mouth claims mine again, and then we’re kissing and grinding and touching each other once more.

  21

  M’TOK

  Calida suspects nothing.

  Was it worth it to trick her into thinking I had fallen into the water by mistake? That I did not know how to fish a frozen lake? The moment I saw it, I knew how to get her into my arms again, so I deliberately broke the ice, fell in, and let her fuss over me. The cold was awful, but when she pressed her warm skin to mine and let me touch her?

  Worth everything.

  Those moments between us break another barrier down. I know I am winning my Calida over slowly. I know she is becoming used to the idea of mating with me.

  And I know she is eager for my touch. Six days have passed since we had our fishing “disaster.” Each of those six days, we have spent the nights in the furs together, touching and caressing. I make her come so hard that she gasps my name, and the sound of it on her lips can cause me to lose control in a flash.

  Still worth it.

  Our food supplies are almost gone, though. The snows have not been as dreadful, so we venture back out to the lake and fish the parts that are not frozen over, where the water is warmer. She uses my spear as a fishing rod while I drag my net through the waters, and between the two of us, we catch enough that we have plenty of food to eat and fish drying over the fire for travel rations.

  We could stay here for a very long time, I think, and the thought is a pleasant one. After losing most of my family and my tribe to the Great Smoking Mountain, I have hated being alone. I preferred the constant companionship of S'bren or R'jaal or T'chai. Just someone nearby to know we were not totally alone in the world. Having Calida at my side somehow helps with that, though. I am happy up here in our snowy cave. I could stay here for many turns of the moon, slowly wooing my female…

  If my khui can hold out that long.

  This morning, when I get up to make the morning meal, my skin smells of her pleasure, and my khui begins a song so insistent and angry that it makes me dizzy. I stagger toward the fire, determined to ignore it. Soon enough, I try to tell my khui. Soon. It has been a long, torturous time, but…I would not trade Calida's smiles for anything. I can endure this for a bit longer, as long as I get her in my arms.

  Last night, she let me taste her.

  I rub my mouth, still thinking about how it had felt to push my face between her thighs and lick her sweet cunt. To lap up her juices and feel her softness against my lips and tongue, and to feel her excitement as I made her come. It was one of the best moments of my life.

  I want more of those.

  I rub my chest as I sit near the fire, willing the weakness in my limbs to go away for a time.

  Behind me, Calida yawns, and I turn toward her with a grin, watching as she stretches her arms above the blankets. I love watching her awaken, because she revels in the furs for a time before she decides to greet the world. This morning is no different. She smacks her lips and then slides farther under the blankets, as if willing the sunlight to go away. Amused, I get to my feet and move to her side, peering down at her. I can see nothing but her tangled dark mane, so I grab one corner of the furs and peel them back slowly, exposing her bountiful, naked body to the air.

  She opens her eyes, scowls at me, and yanks the blankets back. "You're cruel."

  "Perhaps I simply wanted to look upon you?"

  Calida turns on her side, tucking her face onto her hand and smiling even as she yawns. "Look all you want, just don't wake me up."

  I let her relax for a moment, then expose her backside to the cold air again.

  "Cabron, I will end you," she says in a voice that is equal parts fierce and sleepy.

  "You would have to get up from the furs to do that," I tease. "And my name is M'tok. Surely you know this by now? You shouted it when I licked you between your thighs—"

  She sits up and glares at me. "I'm awake. Happy?"<
br />
  I am. I gesture at the fire. "Morning food is almost ready."

  Calida wrinkles her nose, clutching the furs to her fascinatingly large teats. "Fish again? Maybe I'll skip it."

  "You will not," I insist. I know if I am feeling weak, then she will be as well. She needs to eat to keep up her strength, but for some reason she does not like the idea of fish in the morning. I roast it in all the ways she enjoys, but the normal foods we eat for mornings are all gone. "Come. You can wash it down with tea."

  "Bossy, bossy," she mumbles, but pulls her tunic out of the folded pile I set it in last night. It has become a bit of a game between us—Calida leaves a mess wherever she goes and I come behind her and straighten things. I suspect she does it on purpose, but I do not let her know I am aware of it. I like that she thinks to poke at me with such small things. She slides her tunic over her head, pulls her mane free, and then gets to her feet—

  —And immediately crashes to the floor again.

  Panic leaps into my chest. "Calida!" I am at her side instantly, cradling her against my chest. Her face is not its normal healthy leather color, but pale, and her lips are the palest of all. I do not like this. Her eyes are confused as she slowly opens them and gazes up at me. "What is it? What is wrong?"

  "Hmm?" She puts a hand to her brow and then shakes her head. "Wow. I must have fainted or something."

  "You did?"

  She nods. "It just got really dark the moment I stood up. Next thing I know, I'm here." She rests her head against my chest and pats it. "I'm ok, really. I just need to pause for a moment."

  The moment she touches me, my khui’s song increases in volume. I can feel it vibrating inside my chest, just as I can feel hers, too. The song becomes more urgent by the day, and I worry that this is what is making her feel sick.

  Calida notices it too, her expression growing thoughtful. She pulls her hand away, and then puts it on my chest again. My khui responds with an even angrier song, as if it thinks we are toying with it.

 

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