Beth and the Barbarian

by Honey Phillips

  The man looked at her impatiently. She held up her hand, counting off fingers. In response, he held up one hand, touching each finger. Okay, five wasn’t that bad. He had dispatched two without much problem. Then he shrugged and touched each finger again and her heart sank. Ten was going to be a problem.

  While she tried to gather her courage, he moved into action, dropping the old-fashioned bar latch across the door and upending her kitchen table across one window. He also dragged her antique armoire across the floor and slid it in front of the other window as her jaw dropped. It had taken four men to haul it in when she originally bought it and he moved it as easily as she moved a kitchen chair. Kitchen…

  Her knife drawer contained a large butcher’s knife, a sturdy utility knife, and a long filleting knife. She laid them out on the counter, trying to decide if she could handle the weight of the butcher’s knife, just as an enormous hand reached down and picked them all up.

  “Oh hell, no. You have to leave me something.”

  She held out her hand and he studied her face. He growled something but she just shook her head. “I can’t understand you and I don’t care anyway. You can’t leave me defenseless.”

  Reluctantly, he handed over the utility knife and then pointed to the bathroom.

  “You want me to hide in there? Not going to happen.”

  He glared at her and she actually saw his muscles flex and knew he was preparing to drag her off anyway when his head tilted to one side. With one step he was at the light switch and the cabin was plunged into darkness. The room suddenly seemed huge and dark, the only light coming from the pale moon and the dim glow of the woodstove. That gave Beth another idea and she quickly inserted one end of all of the metal fire tools into the glowing coals. With her knife in one hand and her iron frying pan in the other, she crept back to the man’s side.

  He gestured toward the bathroom again and she shook her head. There was no way he could defend both windows and the door. And since the bathroom door didn’t lock, she could be trapped in there by one of those things while he was still fighting them off out here.

  A board squeaked on the front porch and they both froze. With a resigned shrug, he pointed to the window blocked by the armoire. While it didn’t cover the window completely, it blocked enough that only one creature at a time could get through. Nodding, she moved to one side of the window and tightened her grip on the frying pan.

  The night exploded as both windows shattered at the same time. Simultaneously, a heavy body thudded against the door, but the massive timbers barely moved. The windows, however, offered no resistance and a furred body was already half way through her window. She slammed the heavy frying pan down on the back of his head and with a dreadful cracking sound, his skull shattered and he crashed at her feet. Blood and other substances splattered her body and an awful stench filled the air.

  Sickness rose in her throat but another body was already trying to climb through the window and she swung again. This time she only managed a glancing blow and the creature kept coming. She swung again and again; dimly aware that the creatures were snarling and her companion was roaring. More of the creatures had made it through the larger opening in the second window, and he was surrounded but he was flinging bodies away with that same shocking ease.

  The second creature finally collapsed but a third was right behind him. She lifted the frying pan again but the heavy weight was starting to tell and her arm was shaking. The creature swiped his claws across her wrist and the pain startled her into dropping the pan completely. Blindly she swung the knife in her other hand and felt the sickening give as it sank into the creature’s neck. A shocking jet of blood spurted from the incision and he collapsed. The three bodies were now wedged into the window frame, blocking another attempt and she fell back, panting for breath and fighting back tears at the pain in her wrist.

  Bodies surrounded the man, and even in the dim light she could see blood covering his arms but he was still upright and fighting. Kneeling, she reached for the poker she had placed in the stove. Just as her fingers touched it, the sound of breaking glass filled the cabin and shards from the skylight rained down on her head. Flipping over instinctively, she felt rather than saw the body plummeting towards her and raised the poker. The creature slammed into it, slammed into her, blood streaming over her clenched hands and the snarling muzzle only inches from her face. She tried to scream, still breathless from his weight and then he was gone. The cabin was silent again and the big man was kneeling beside her, gathering her into his arms.

  Dragar clutched the small female to his chest, burying his face in the soft silk of her hair and breathing in her delectable fragrance. His heart had literally stopped when the Serigal had flung itself through the shattered skylight. The female was amazing. He was still infuriated that she had refused to obey his order and seek shelter, but he couldn’t help but be impressed. Despite her small size and obvious lack of experience, she had defended herself as fiercely as any Sardoran woman.

  Unfortunately, her bravery had reached its limits and she was shaking in his arms, small muffled sobs escaping her lips as she tried to burrow closer. Again, the fact that she looked to him for comfort was both unnerving and gratifying, especially as she had seen all of his flaws in the harsh artificial light of the cabin. He raised his head at the thought, stroking her hair soothingly when she protested and clung harder.

  His night vision was excellent and he counted bodies rapidly. She had disposed of four and he had accounted for eight. Assuming this was a standard Serigali mission, that meant only one was left—the one guarding their ship. He knew that he had to dispose of the last enemy but as he looked down at the woman clinging so desperately to him, he realized he couldn’t leave her yet. If the Serigali were on standard orders, he had at least an hour before the pilot would get suspicious. In the meantime, he would attend to his human.

  Rising to his feet with her cradled in his arms, he carried her into the bathing facility. A curtain covered the small window and he made sure that it covered the window completely before he turned on the small light over the sink. The woman blinked and flinched as the light came on.

  “How do you know how to work light switches?” she mumbled.

  A surprised laugh escaped him and she opened her eyes. She was tear-stained and covered in blood, her breath still shuddering in her lungs, but she eyed him with surprising alertness.

  “You understood what I said, didn’t you?”

  Dragar nodded and started to put her down. She protested immediately as he started to move away so he kept an arm around her as he explored the facilities, until a warm flow of water started from the overhead pipe. Once again, he tried to leave her but she clung to him with determined hands.

  “Please, don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  He pointed to the water but she shook her head and pulled him closer.

  “You need a shower, too.” She ducked her head and then looked at him from under her lashes with such a mixture of innocence and seduction that his cock started to stiffen. “We can share.”

  He started to shake his head but silent tears immediately filled enormous gray eyes.

  “Please,” she repeated. “I’m hanging on by a thread here and I really need you close to me.”

  Reluctantly he nodded and was rewarded by a shy smile. She let go of his hand, watching cautiously to make sure he didn’t head for the door, and then pulled her bloody, torn top over her head. Underneath she was wearing a thin garment that caressed her slender curves and he couldn’t help noticing her nipples thrusting against the sheer fabric. Her fingers grabbed the hem and she cast him another one of those half innocent, half seductive glances. As he met her gaze, her breath caught and she lowered her hand.

  He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed as she tugged him toward the water. Stopping her long enough to kick off his boots, he followed her into the shower. He considered removing at least his vest but his uniform was designed to handle water and h
e didn’t want to expose her to more of his scarred flesh than she had already seen.

  As soon as they were both under the water, she moved back into his arms, sighing as the warm water streamed down their bodies. Occasional shudders still shook her delicate body but he could feel her relaxing against him. He found a bar of soap and began cleansing the blood from her body, anger starting to throb in his veins as he realized how much of the blood was hers and just how much damage the Serigali had inflicted. Her body was covered with cuts, ranging from small scratches to deep claw marks on her thigh, wrist and shoulder.

  He touched her as carefully as he could but she flinched from even his gentle touch and he growled in frustration before pulling away. She immediately seized his arms.

  “I’m okay. It stings but I’ll get over it.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He knew that she couldn’t understand his words but she studied his face and then reached for the soap.

  “I’ll do it. Just…just stay with me.”

  Dragar nodded, keeping a steadying hand around her waist as she finished washing her legs and arms. When she reached her chest, she stopped, impeded by the thin top. She gave him that look again. “This is silly. I’m going to take my tank off. You don’t have to look if you don’t want to.”

  She thought he wouldn’t want to look at her? He was still trying to process that concept when she shimmied out of the damp cloth in one swift movement and every drop of blood in his body went straight to his cock.

  Her breasts weren’t big but they were perfect, from creamy flesh to big pink nipples that hardened under his rapt gaze until they seemed to be reaching for him. Dragar was desperately glad he had kept his uniform on since the tight leather confining him was a constant reminder that he could not have this woman. He was ashamed of his reaction; he knew she was wounded and hurting, but all he could think about was fastening his mouth around one of those taut tempting peaks.

  She took in his reaction and her eyes dropped to his groin. They widened but there was still no fear in her face when she looked back up at him. She took a deep breath and her breasts thrust out even further. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she murmured. “Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.”

  Before he could decipher her strange words, she bent over and slid her panties down her naked legs. Dragar seriously wondered if he was going to pass out as he stared at her naked body and his cock hardened to stone. For some reason, he had assumed that all humans would be like his Chief’s mate—all ripe golden curves. Instead, this human was like a shaft of moonlight with creamy skin, long slender legs, and those pert breasts that begged for his mouth. Even her hair was like moonlight, a long swath of white gold reaching from her head almost to that delectably rounded ass. And her eyes—wide and gray, they changed almost as swiftly as his as her emotions played across her face. Right now they were dark with unmistakable desire.

  Unable to resist any longer, he pulled her against his body and reached for the soap again.

  Beth relaxed against the tall alien’s massive body. Her rational mind was still telling her that she should be afraid, but as long as he was touching her, she felt…at home. The rush of water and the clean fragrance of the soap didn’t prevent her from detecting his underlying scent and she breathed in the wild, musky smell. Her back was against his massive chest and she could feel the contrasting textures of wet leather and bare skin. Little ripples of excitement fluttered in her belly. He was washing her carefully, removing the last traces of blood from her skin, but he was being too careful.

  The last few hours were a horrifying blur but she needed this, needed to feel his hands caressing her, making her feel alive. As he reached her chest, she pushed her breast into his hand. The scrape of his rough palm across her nipple made her gasp and she pushed harder into his hand. She could feel the solid weight of his cock behind her and she tried to reach back to touch him but he grasped both of her wrists easily with one hand and lifted them above her head.

  He released her hands but she wound them around his neck. The position arched her upper body so that her breasts thrust out while her ass pressed against him. She thought she heard a low groan as he finally dropped the soap. His hands came back to her body, hard and demanding, and she moaned with relief. Her cuts were still stinging, but the lingering pain only added to her excitement as his hands stroked down across her chest and firmly cupped the slight mounds, tugging her nipples until they were throbbing and distended. She writhed against him, giving herself up to the pleasure of his touch. One hand slid between her thighs, stroking her swollen folds with two thick fingers, and she exploded, shuddering against him as he held her in his strong, hard grip.

  As her tremors slowed, she turned in his arms to nestle into his massive chest and he held her close and stroked her hair. She could feel his shaft throbbing against her stomach and she reached for him. Grasping her hands again, he stepped back quickly, his eyes suddenly…alarmed? Embarrassment flushed her cheeks as she realized she was standing there naked and he was still fully clothed. He seemed to read her confusion because he pulled her back against his body, still maintaining a grip on her hands, and took her mouth in a kiss so intense that she almost came again. His mouth was hot and hard and demanding, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth, and she moaned and urged him deeper. He tasted wonderful. She could feel the sharp edges of his teeth but it only added to her exhilaration.

  When he finally released her mouth, she muttered a protest and he smiled. He reached around and shut off the shower before lifting her easily out and wrapping a towel around her. Sleepily she let him pat her dry, exhaustion starting to take over as the euphoria of her climax wore off and the pain of her cuts started to penetrate. Leaving her wrapped in the towel, he moved to the bathroom door. Immediately she started to panic, but he held up one finger. Forcing down her fear, she nodded and he moved quickly through the door, blocking her view with his body.

  Her knees weakened and she collapsed on to the small stool by the vanity. Her pulse started to speed up but before she could get too anxious, he reappeared, handing her a pile of clothes. Gratefully, she pulled on panties and a camisole. Now that he was back, she grew calm enough to notice with some amusement that he chosen her nicest pale pink, silk set. However, he had also brought her softest sweatshirt and yoga pants. She pulled the warm fleece over her head, wincing as it touched her wrist and shoulder. With gentle hands he rolled up the sleeve away from her wounds.

  Beth’s brain finally started to function and she pulled out her first aid kit. The man immediately took the kit, examining the contents rapidly before gesturing for her to remove the sweatshirt once more. With swift, competent hands, he bandaged the deepest wounds and then helped her pull on her top again. He tried to help her with the pants but even the soft cloth was too painful against her wounded thigh. With a shrug, he abandoned the effort.

  Once more he held up a finger and she nodded and sat down again. The panic was a little easier to hold back this time but the muffled dragging noises didn’t help. She was just about to go in search of him when the door opened and he held out his hand. Grasping his hand, she followed him into the main room.

  Chapter Three

  The smell of death lay heavily over the room and she opened her mouth, trying to lessen the sweet gagging stench. He had only turned on one small light, but it was enough to see that her beloved cabin was completely destroyed. The bodies of the strange creatures had been piled next to the wood stove and she quickly averted her gaze. Her workspace was even worse, canvases broken and torn, paintings splattered with blood. Beth’s eyes filled with tears. Fortunately, much of her work was in Seattle as part of the gallery show but everything she was currently working on had been destroyed. Somewhere at the edge of her consciousness was a nagging sense of loss but she refused to acknowledge it. She looked up at the wall, immediately searching out her two favorite paintings, and breathed a sigh of relief that they seemed to be crooked but intact.

  H
er companion had followed her gaze and she was surprised when he pulled one of her favorites down from the wall. He asked something in his low rumbling voice but whatever intuition she had where he was concerned was silent about his meaning. He growled, obviously frustrated.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” She hesitated. “How did you know that that particular one was important to me?”

  He looked startled at her words and barked another question. This one she thought she understood.

  “Why? I don’t know really but it haunts me. This place—” Her fingers brushed the canvas. “Such a sense of pride and pain…and loneliness.” She looked up and saw the truth written on his face. “You know this place, don’t you? It means something to you.”

  He nodded slowly but the pain in his eyes kept her from asking any additional questions. She moved to the wall and pulled down her other favorite. It was swirling abstract, done in shades of charcoal, black, and silver, but with a hint of an underlying pattern.

  “What about this one? Do you recognize it?”

  The man cocked his head and studied it. She thought she saw something flicker in his expression but he only shook his head. A sudden wave of exhaustion swept over her and she placed the painting carefully on the floor. She staggered as she straightened and his hand was under her arm, supporting her, and she clutched it gratefully.

  The numbness was definitely wearing off now. Every inch of her body hurt and her knees felt shaky and weak. Flashes of the night’s events were pushing their way to the surface and her stomach started to churn. All she wanted was to lay her head down and forget everything in the oblivion of sleep but the cabin was uninhabitable.

  “Where am I going to go? I can’t stay here.” Beth waved her hand absently around the cabin, noticing distantly that her fingers were trembling. The big man’s hand tightened on her arm and he frowned.

  “Can I go with you?”