Kraving Tavak (The Krave of Everton Book 4)

by Zoey Draven

  Most surprising, however, was the human female that was perched on Khiva’s lap. The pregnant one. The pregnant human female she’d so often seen around their small town, though she’d never had the guts to approach her. She had dark hair and a beautiful smile. And despite the heat, she looked cool and unflappable in her sheath of silk, not unlike the material Stella had imagined buying for herself.

  And Khiva’s hand was perched on her growing belly.

  Mates, she realized.

  Stella’s eyes went back to Tavak but he was speaking with Khiva, a familiar dark scowl spread across his face. They knew each other, that much was obvious. And she knew that Tavak worked at Khiva’s labs. In his warehouse, she thought.

  Were they friends?

  “He’s not looking at me,” Stella said, turning back to Lubbina, a little relieved that her brazen pointing had most likely gone unnoticed.

  “Now he is,” Lubbina said.

  Stella glanced back over.

  And Lubbina was right. Tavak’s eyes were on her, those silver and gold irises pinning her in place, even from such a long distance away. For a moment, Stella felt breathless, like he’d stolen all the air right from her lungs.

  Then she remembered his face last night, that haunting anger and disgust in it.

  Don’t vauking touch me again.

  For once, Stella wasn’t beaming at him. She could read the signs. She wasn’t a complete fucking idiot.

  Stella looked away.

  She wanted to tell Lubbina about what happened at the bar last night but somehow, it felt wrong. Like she was betraying Tavak’s trust. In the end, Stella said nothing.

  “Like I said, I don’t think he’s interested,” Stella chirped, her tone deceivingly bright. Lubbina frowned. “I’ll go talk to your friend now. Want me to try and get anything out of him? If he really, really likes you? If he wants to give you babies?”

  Lubbina made a sound of disgust. Then her head cocked to the side. “Actually, ask him if he liked what I did last night with my tongue and if—”

  “I’m going now,” Stella said quickly, laughing. “I’ll see you around.”

  Everyone seemed to be having sex but Stella. That much was abundantly clear.

  She left, wiping at the thin sheen of perspiration on her forehead, ignoring the harrumph of the Jetutian when she passed him. The stall with the red banner was near-ish to where Tavak was sitting. Stella darted a peek over at him, relieved when he was listening to something that Khiva was saying.

  She almost sighed just looking at him. But damn, the male was handsome. Tall and muscled and broad-shouldered, his dark blue skin gleaming in the harsh late-morning sunlight. Keriv’i were hairless, at least from what she could see. His face was angular, his jawline sharp and sculpted, those full lips always downturned. Lips that looked incredibly soft for such a face.

  And his eyes…

  Those eyes that made her feel like she was on fire, like she was burning into a little heap of ash at his feet.

  Stella did sigh then. With determination, she forced herself to look away and she promised herself that she wouldn’t look back at him for the rest of her time at the market.

  At the stall with the red banner, the half-Luxirian was handsome and accommodating, especially after she told him that Lubbina had sent her his way. The male was obviously smitten and Stella couldn’t help but be a little jealous of her friend’s good fortune.

  He gave her a good deal on a nice cut of fabric. Not scratchy at all. Soft but durable. The fibers were loose enough so it would be cool.

  It cost her 10 credits but she would’ve paid twice that amount at any other vendor for a similar material so she was absolutely ecstatic.

  She beamed at the vendor and thanked him—his name was Raxika—and just as she was turning to leave, a shadow fell over her, blocking out most of the sun.

  Her breath caught in her throat when her eyes met swirling orbs of silver and gold. She felt a rapid flutter of excitement in her belly, though it was mingled with trepidation.

  “Can I speak with you for a moment?” Tavak asked, those eyes pinned on her.

  His face was impassive. Expressionless. Stella just couldn’t figure this guy out.

  When she happened to look back at the table where he’d been sitting, she saw that Khiva and the human woman were gone.

  “Sure,” she said, giving him a small smile, though it felt uncertain on her features. Strange.

  His eyes narrowed when he saw it, his frown deepening.

  “Come,” he murmured, jerking his head towards the now-empty table.

  Chapter Four

  Stella was uncomfortable, that much was clear. And overheated, if the redness of her cheeks and neck were anything to go by. Humans were sensitive to the heat. To the cold. Just about anything actually.

  Tavak held himself away from her and tried not to meet her eyes for too long. Because if he did, he would feel the endless pull of them. When he’d first seen her eyes, he’d thought them mud-like in color. Dark. But now, especially in the Dumerian sunlight, he could see the lines of gold and black, deepening and lightening her gaze until Tavak found himself wanting to count all the strands of her eyes.

  He squeezed his fist, feeling his body begin to react to her, as it always did. Vauk.

  When she sat down at the table, she wiped at the top of it to clear the dust before she carefully set down her purchase from the Luxirian vendor. A thick heap of beige-colored material. Well-woven. But ugly and bland. Nothing like Stella. The green silk she’d been admiring down the road suited her more.

  “What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?” she asked, her voice soft and husky.

  Tavak turned his gaze from the material to meet her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Stella blinked those wide, soft eyes, looking a little ruffled by his words. Tavak was transfixed as he watched realization play over her features. He leaned forward, elbows on the slab of the table, across from her.

  “Oh, you mean last night?” she asked quietly, dragging her finger across the table gently, making circles in the dust that covered it. It was hard to keep anything clean on Dumera.

  Tavak envisioned those gentle fingers making circles across his skin and he huffed out a sharp breath as desire coiled inside him like a serpent.

  “What did you think I meant?” he wondered, remembering that little moment of embarrassment before she’d seemed to realize what he’d truly meant.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.”

  Tavak liked looking at her, this little creature who at first had seemed so…unremarkable. So ordinary with her black hair and dark, wide eyes, that tilted up at the corners slightly. She had a small nose, a slightly flattened bridge. She was all softness with her rounded cheeks and full, pursed lips. There was a small scar that ran down her left temple, a scar he’d often wondered how she’d received. There was a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her skin was tan, golden from Dumera’s sun.

  He had seen hundreds of human females’ faces over the years but hers…he thought hers was wonderful to look at.

  And her body…

  Tavak made a sound in the back of his throat. She wasn’t that tall, though he supposed she was tall for a human female. She had a body that looked like it could handle the insatiable lusts of a Keriv’i male, especially during a Rut. Soft and curvy with hips made for fucking.

  Vauk.

  His nostrils flared and he had to look away from her, at least for a moment, to regain control. This was the danger of being around her. Every night, sitting in that bar with her, with the scent of her own arousal in his nostrils, he tested his own limits.

  He’d gone from fucking every single night for over ten years…to being celibate for nearly four months now.

  It had been necessary. Females had only ever brought him trouble. And though sex meant nothing to him—it was an act, a release, a means to an end and nothing more—it still meant everything in some regards.

&n
bsp; “I wanted to apologize,” he found himself saying gruffly. “For last night.”

  Stella blinked and then her gaze dropped to the table, where her finger was still swirling. She seemed to realize what she was doing and she pulled her hand away, wiping the dust on her pants.

  “Oh,” she said quietly, tucking a strand of hair that escaped her braid behind her ear. She smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Tavak frowned. “I lashed out at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

  Stella’s smile died slowly, remembering, no doubt. He’d hurt her feelings. He’d seen it written on her face in the darkness last night.

  “I’d been in a foul mood already. That Nzonitian made it worse. I don’t…I don’t tolerate males like that well.”

  “No one does,” Stella commented.

  “You did,” Tavak returned. “Until he grabbed you.”

  She waved her hand. “I was practically raised on merchant vessels. I’ve seen the good and the bad in everyone. I know how to handle males like that.”

  That…surprised him. He couldn’t imagine a being like her puttering around the universe, trapped in cold, endless, frightening space for so long.

  “Besides, Reji left me a taser under the bar. I had my other hand around it when you intervened.”

  Good to know. It was a relief, at the very least, that she had something to defend herself with…if he wasn’t there.

  “I accept your apology, though it’s not necessary,” she told him. Her soft, kind expression made his chest feel too tight. “I’m sorry for grabbing you. If I had known…”

  Tavak swallowed hard. “Known what?”

  She shrugged one shoulder, keeping it lifted for a brief moment as she thought over her words. “Some beings just don’t like to be touched. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  Tavak would’ve laughed had her words not made him so vauking ashamed.

  Because the truth was that Tavak liked her touch. He liked it too much. She’d touched him before. Brief little things over the numerous weeks she’d worked at the bar. On his shoulder, his arm. Always over his clothes. Tavak had come to crave them. Come to crave her heat and softness, her scent in his nostrils when she was close.

  Sometimes, he felt like he was losing his mind.

  Last night had been the first time he’d felt her touch against his skin, unhindered by anything. It had been shocking. He felt like it had unleashed something inside him. Wanting. Need.

  But it had been on the heels of the horrible, ugly memories that had risen within him. Her touch had been too much.

  He couldn’t explain any of this to her, however. Because in doing so, he would have to explain…well, everything.

  He wouldn’t be able to bear the look of pity that would inevitably enter her gaze. Perhaps, horror. Maybe disgust too, though she was too polite to show him outright.

  Tavak wouldn’t be able to handle that from her. Not from her.

  He was at a loss for what to say, however. This was something he’d never had to navigate. Speaking with a female he desired, one he wanted. Yet, he wouldn’t allow himself to have her.

  She seemed to take pity on him, sparing him from needing to reply, because she asked instead, “Why were you already in a bad mood last night?”

  He barely hid his grimace.

  When he met her eyes, he felt his shoulders relax. Her gaze was rapt on him, curious and kind, her cheeks flushed, her lips red. Beautiful.

  “My brother told me he is leaving Dumera,” he found himself saying. “For a few weeks, at least. At first.”

  “Your brother?” she asked, surprised. Then understanding dawned, spreading. “The male who sometimes comes into the bar with you. I wondered. You have the same eyes.”

  “Pax,” he murmured. Their mother’s eyes. His fists clenched on the table.

  “And you don’t want him to go?” she asked.

  Of course not, he thought.

  “Dumera is safe,” he said. “Safer than many places in the Quadrants.”

  Stella was watching him closely. Maybe she heard what went unspoken. That they had been in unsafe places before. Bad places. Places that ate at one’s soul. Places Tavak never wanted to return to.

  “He has work on a trading vessel?” she asked next.

  Tavak inclined his head.

  “Well, the good thing is that most trading vessels are tight-knit,” Stella told him, giving him a smile that made his hearts begin to pound in his chest. “They watch each other’s backs. If he has work with a reputable merchant, your brother will be just fine.”

  She was trying to comfort him? After he’d lashed out at her last night?

  Tavak leaned towards her, his arms sliding across the hot slab of table under the jivera tree. Stella stilled, her lips parting.

  All he could see was her. The noise of the market was just a dull hush in the back of his mind, the sun across the back of his head a slight nuisance.

  “Is that where you learned the crew language?” he asked, his voice dropping low, watching her eyes flicker back and forth between his.

  “W-what?” she whispered. Then she blinked, that flush on her cheeks becoming redder. “Oh. Oh. Yes. Of course.” She laughed, though the sound was slightly breathless. Even still, it seemed to go straight to his cock. “Like I said, I was on merchant vessels a lot. Some of them even felt like family. Besides, the crew language is easy enough to pick up, especially if it’s all you hear. Do you know it?”

  Tavak inclined his head again.

  “Did you work on merchant vessels too?” she asked, her question innocent.

  Tavak swallowed, his gaze flickering down to her lips briefly.

  “Veki,” he said, leaning away from her. He amended, “No. I learned it on a colony long ago.”

  On Jrika. Ravu knew the language better, however. He’d had more work with crews. With the disreputable kinds. With pirates. Gunners. Runners. Thieves.

  “Oh. Right,” she said softly, tucking that strand of hair behind her ear again when it escaped.

  Just then, a strong breeze swept through the market, making some of the banners and hides of the vendors flap loudly, making them scurry out to secure their wares. The breeze ruffled Stella’s hair.

  Tavak watched as her eyes closed briefly, as a wide smile lit up her face. He froze, his gaze rapt on the obvious pleasure sliding across her expression. She was a sensual creature, he realized. Taking pleasure wherever she could find it. Wanting more of it.

  Tavak knew he could make her feel all kinds of pleasure. He was an expert in pleasure, after all. It had been his sole job for years and years.

  His breath came rough when he imagined her taking his teela, his seed. Because his teela would light her up from the inside out and she wouldn’t be able to escape that pleasure. It was what Keriv’i were known for, after all.

  Vauk, Tavak wanted her. He wanted to lay her back in his bed and slip between her thighs. He wanted to drown in her. He had never felt the long stretch of his celibacy more than right then. His control was slipping.

  When her eyes opened, she was still smiling. It faltered, however, at whatever expression she saw on his face.

  “I need to go,” he said roughly. “I’m needed back at the labs.”

  “Right,” she said quickly. “Of course.”

  He stood, thankful his pants were thick to hide his obvious arousal.

  “Will you…” she trailed off, standing as well, collecting her beige-colored material from the surface of the dusty table.

  “Pax?” he asked.

  “Will you be at the bar tonight?”

  Tavak’s jaw tightened. He thought about staying away. He thought he should.

  But he was weak.

  He nodded. “Pax, I will be. Once I’m done with my work.”

  Stella beamed and he felt that smile wiggle in his chest. He felt it settle there and stay.

  “See you then,” she said.

  Tavak watched, rooted in place, as s
he walked away, down the long stretch of the market. Heading back towards Reji’s bar, in the quiet, more deserted part of the town, waving to the female Laoti vendor he’d seen her speaking to.

  As she disappeared from view, Tavak’s gaze went to a particular stall and he strode towards it.

  The swathe of green silk was haphazardly pinned to the stretch of the stall’s wall, fluttering with the sudden breeze that came funneling down the market. The dust came away on Tavak’s fingertips when he reached out to inspect it.

  The Jetutian looked at him from head-to-toe. Taking in the cut of his clothes. His well-made boots.

  “How much?” he asked.

  The Jetutian’s gaze slid to the side briefly as he pretended to ponder the price.

  “400 credits.”

  Tavak almost laughed. He turned, looking over his shoulder to the female he’d seen Stella speaking with.

  The Laoti had a gleeful grin on her face as she met his gaze.

  “What price has he been giving others?” Tavak asked her.

  The Laoti replied, “250.”

  Tavak turned back to the Jetutian, whose expression was thunderous.

  At one point in his life, 250 credits would’ve been a small fortune. More credits than he saw in a single year.

  “I’ll buy it for that price and not a credit more,” Tavak told him.

  A muscle in the Jetutian’s cheek ticked.

  “Very well,” he finally growled.

  Chapter Five

  When Tavak came into Reji’s bar later that night, a dull hush descended. Most had been there the previous night and no doubt heard the exchange between him and Stella outside.

  But Stella smiled at him all the same, and as Tavak weaved his way to his usual stool at the end of the bar, a couple males nodded at him in acknowledgement. He didn’t seem embarrassed by the long looks. He walked in like he belonged there and his expression didn’t waver, his chin lifted.

  Stella poured him his usual—the strongest of the Luxirian brew Reji could find in that part of the Quadrant—in the silver goblet that he always drank from. The back of her neck and her arms were burned from the harsh sun earlier that afternoon but she didn’t care. Seeing him made her tingle, made her stomach erupt with butterflies, their strange exchange last night already forgotten.