by Ruby Dixon
So I sit quietly and wait. I eat fruit and watch him throw, which really isn’t much of a hardship. He gets all sweaty and slick, his tail flicking back and forth, and I’m fascinated by those gleaming, taut arms and the beauty of his movements. I fart around with some sewing—because what else am I going to do? And I nap. I’m pretty sure I nap all afternoon, and when I wake up, he’s still at it, grim determination written into his features. He’s covered in sweat, and for the first time, I see him panting with exertion.
I yawn and get to my feet, glancing at the entrance to the cave. “Is it dark outside?” I ask J’shel.
He nods and throws again. ShhhhTHOK. It hits the mark, just as it does nineteen times out of twenty. And J’shel looks annoyed.
“Big Bird’s still out there, I take it?”
“Always,” he says flatly.
“Figures.” I glance around, my hands on my hips. “Any sign of Taushen and Brooke?”
“They are still down below.” He moves to pick up his spear, sets his target up on the ledge once more—a newer rotten fruit, I see—and comes to stand beside me again. He lines up his spear, ignoring me, and then lets it sail through the air once more with a swift, hard throw.
ShhhhhTHOK.
I bite back my sigh and move to the edge of the ledge. I wonder if Taushen is being as insane as J’shel is. Actually, I don’t even know if it’s insane. I just know his defenses are kicked into overdrive and I’m concerned about him. He acts like he’s going to have to take this thing on single-handedly and that worries the hell out of me. When I glance down, though, I don’t see anyone far below. I see neat piles of what look like weapons, and I suspect Taushen’s been at work on his own. I’m guessing they’re off to bed—or making love—somewhere hidden behind the vines.
Heck, maybe Brooke’s doing her best to distract Taushen, too.
ShhhhhTHOK.
I grit my teeth and turn around, watching as he retrieves his spear again. “J’shel, please. Can you stop for a while?”
“I do not have most of my weapons with me, H’nah,” he says simply, setting his target back into its spot. “I have the one spear and my knives. This means I must hit swiftly and strike true with my spear, because I will only get one chance.”
“Well, if he’s not going anywhere, it’s going to be days and days before we even have to think about such things, right?” Before he can throw again, I reach up and grab his arm, tugging it back down again. He’s slick with sweat and slippery in my grip, and when his camouflage flares, I know he’s wound up tight. My poor guy.
I’m not entirely sure when I started thinking of him as my guy, but he’s mine all right, and I’m not going to allow him to torture himself like this.
“Please come and lie down with me,” I say softly. “I know you’re worried, but you’re no good to anyone exhausted.”
J’shel looks utterly stricken at my words. “You are right. Apologies.”
I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to apologize, but he’s putting his spear down, resting it against the wall, and this is progress. So I just give him an enticing smile, tug him all the way across the cave back toward our blankets, and then lie down next to him. He lies on his back but doesn’t close his eyes, just stares up at the ceiling, frowning at it, and I know his mind is still working.
He needs distracting, and I’m the best distraction the man’s got.
“Can I put my head on your shoulder,” I ask, trying to keep my voice innocent. “There are no pillows.”
“Of course.” He reaches for me and I slide into his grip.
Two big arms curl around me, hugging me against his sweaty chest, but I don’t complain. I’m a little sticky with the muggy heat of the cave myself. I just tuck myself against him, and when he continues to stare up at the ceiling, I put my hand over his eyes. “You’re still thinking.”
“Apologies.”
“Don’t apologize, just rest, all right? Tomorrow’s a new day and you’ll have all the time in the world to throw your damn spear if you want.” I give him a little pat on the chest. “For now, just relax, okay?”
He touches my cheek. “I will try, little flower.”
I guess that’s all a girl can ask for.
I wake up in the middle of the night as the world shifts around me. I jerk upright, my thoughts immediately going to the ledge, but I’m still in our makeshift camp. The leathers underneath me twist and shift again and I look over. At some point in my sleep I must have rolled away from J’shel, because he’s a few feet away, muttering and trapped in a dream. He rolls onto his side, thrashing, his tail twitching and moving furiously.
“N’dek,” he murmurs, his body jerking. “No…”
“J’shel,” I say, touching his chest to wake him up. “You’re having a nightmare.”
His big hands grip me and he sits upright so quickly that I bite back a scream, our heads nearly thumping together. His eyes are wide and glazed, and for a moment, I’m not entirely sure he sees me. “N’dek—”
“J’shel,” I say again, my voice firm. “It’s me, Hannah. Your mate, remember? You’re with me. N’dek isn’t here. You’re in the fruit cave.”
The big alien blinks at me, and it takes a moment before his eyes focus. He exhales slowly, as if all the air is leaving his body, and then pulls me tight against him. He buries his face against my breasts and is utterly quiet.
Oh.
My heart squeezes with sympathy. I run my fingers along his scalp, scratching lightly at the strands of hair that are coming loose from his braid. His horns press against my skin and close to my neck, but I don’t mind. I hold him as close as I can, letting him breathe in my scent and hug me against him.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “It was just a bad dream.”
“H’nah,” he murmurs, his lips moving against my cleavage. “I woke you.”
Like I give a shit about that? I want to shake him for being a doofus. I don’t care that he woke me. I just want him to be okay. I stroke his hair, listening to the sound of the waterfall below, his rapid breathing, and the ever-present “song” of our cooties.
And I just…want him to be happy.
I’m such a fool. All this time I’ve been fighting so hard to avoid our resonance because I was worried that he wouldn’t like me, or that I belonged back home, and I couldn’t get past what I was missing out on. I was moping over book deals and not getting to see my movie made when all of that stuff doesn’t matter in the slightest.
What matters is J’shel. His happiness. My happiness.
Fuck going home. Everything I ever wanted is right here in my arms. Didn’t I write In Search of a Hero because I was lonely and despairing that I’d ever have a real relationship? But J’shel is the real thing. He’s kind, caring, handsome, protective…and right here in front of me.
I can’t believe it’s taken our lives being in danger and J’shel stressing out for me to realize that I can be happy with him. That I can be happy here.
Sometimes I can be really hard-headed.
I stroke his hair again, overflowing with love for the guy. “J’shel,” I say softly, unable to stop touching him. I caress his ear, his jaw, everywhere I can. “You were saying N’dek’s name in your sleep. Was it a dream about him? Are you worried that you left him on the beach?”
He closes his eyes, holding me close. “No.”
I think of what he told me before. Of how he’d thrown badly and how N’dek lost his leg. I think of him throwing his spear all afternoon long, full of grim determination. My heart squeezes all over again. “You’re worried you’ll fail me, then?”
“H’nah,” J’shel murmurs, burying his face in my cleavage. “I…”
“It’s okay.” I put my hands on the sides of his face, lifting his gaze to mine. He looks so damn tortured, so full of doubt that I lean down and put my mouth on his and kiss him. I just want to make it all better for him.
J’shel is perfectly still under me as my lips brush over his. For a second,
I think I’ve misread the moment and he doesn’t want my touch. A split second later, though, he groans and then his arms are around me and we’re kissing and clawing at each other like wildcats.
He bears me down to the blankets, his mouth ravenous on mine and we’re both making little grunts of need. I mash my lips to his, utterly frantic, and when his tongue strokes deep into my mouth I practically come. God, he feels SO good. So right. I’m so hungry for him that I’m panting in between each kiss, lightheaded with need, and I’m barely aware that his weight is pinning me down to the furs until he pushes a knee between my thighs and rocks his cock against my core.
I whimper, that little movement sending blazing hot need rushing through me. “J’shel,” I pant, kissing him with hard, frantic little nips. “Oh my god, J’shel.”
He rocks against me again, driving that massive length against my core. It’s like he’s found my center and is trying to spear me through my leather loincloth, he feels so damn hard—and so good. I arch up against him, raising my hips to meet his next thrust. I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want him in this moment.
My big alien growls against my mouth, surging against my pussy once more, and then flings himself off of me. He rolls a few feet away, panting, and watches me with hot eyes.
“J’shel?” I prop up on my elbows. My breast-band has almost slid down to my navel and I’m pretty sure only the extreme tightness of my nipples is holding it in place at the moment. “What the hell? Where are you going?”
He licks his lips as if tasting me on his mouth and then closes his eyes. “I must stop. You do not want this. I should not force you.” He crouches on the stone, then presses his forehead to the floor as if trying to compose himself. “My apologies, H’nah.”
What? “Are you insane? Of course I want you.”
J’shel sits upright, his eyes closed. His cock looks so hard and painfully erect under the leather it’s like a poker sticking out from his loincloth. “You have said all along that you want no alien mate. You want no alien kit. You want to go home.”
“I did say that,” I admit. “I might also be an idiot. I wrote a book about a hero, remember? How the girl in the story keeps hunting for the right guy and he’s right in front of her all along? You’re my hero, J’shel. I’ve been looking and looking for something to make me happy and you’ve been right there all along. It’s you, all right? I know things are still new between us, but when I’m with you…I’m happy. I feel like I’m home. And I can be happy with you. I can be happy here, too. I’ve been stupidly fighting everything for too long. I want to be with you, all right?”
He gives me a skeptical look. “Did you take some of the chakk leaf when I was not looking?”
This man. I sigh and roll onto my side. My breast-band slides down even lower, and I take a deep, steeling breath, and then hitch it down, exposing my tits to him.
J’shel stares.
He stares at my breasts so hard my nipples tighten just a little bit more. I might be on the bigger side of the spectrum, but I’ve got nice tits. They’re full and round, with tight, dusky nipples that have his full attention.
“What would it take to convince you?” I ask, my pose utterly casual despite the rapid beat of my heart and the drum of my cootie. “Do we need to play truth or dare again?”
His hand goes to his cock and he clenches it tight. I don’t know if he’s trying to stop himself from coming or if he’s stroking to the sight of my breasts, but god, that’s fucking hot. He grips himself again, then gives me an intense look. “If we play truth to dares, what truth would you ask me to say?”
“I wouldn’t,” I purr, loving that he grabs his cock again at the sound of my voice. “I’d dare you to come lick me all over like you said you would.”
He groans, eyes closing. “H’nah.”
“Right over here,” I reply. “Waiting.” And because he’s touching himself, when he opens his eyes again, I reach up and stroke my fingers over the tip of one breast.
16
HANNAH
J’shel growls.
Really fucking growls as if me touching myself offends him. I gasp for breath as he stalks over to me, somehow making hands-and-knees crawling look so goddamn sexy and menacing that I can’t breathe. His camouflage flickers and that sexy braid falls over his shoulder as he snakes toward me, and then he’s right next to me again. He gazes down at the breast-band at my waist as if it offends him, and then snags it in his hand and rips it in half.
And I do not even care.
I roll onto my back, hungry for him. I grab his braid even as he moves over me, his big limbs caging me under him once more. “Are you gonna do as I ask?” I whisper, giving his braid a tug. “Because if you are, my loincloth needs to come off, too.”
He makes another one of those hungry, feral sounds in his throat, and he snaps the leather belt that holds up my ice planet version of panties, then casts the leather aside. I’m naked and sprawled out underneath him, and I’ve never felt sexier or more turned on. He gazes down at me, drinking in the sight of my body before him and…says nothing.
I kinda wish he’d say something. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I am deciding which place to put my tongue first,” J’shel says, voice thick.
Oooh. My thighs clench involuntarily, and I can feel liquid heat pooling between them. I bet if I touched myself I’d be soaked. “Can I offer suggestions?”
“No.” His voice is deliciously hoarse.
“Why not?”
“Because I have decided I am going to put it everywhere.” He puts a hand behind my head and leans down, giving me a hard, fierce kiss. His tongue strokes into my mouth in a hot, claiming sweep, and I moan with how good it is, but he’s already moving on. He licks lower, his tongue brushing over my neck, his teeth nipping lightly at my throat. Shivers race down my spine and now I’m the one panting. His braid is still caught in my hand, and I remember that I want to see all of it, loose and sexy and wild.
“I’m going to undo this now,” I say, even as he nips at my throat again. One hand skims over my side, caressing the edge of my breast and my hip, and it just makes me hungry for more.
“Do as you like,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is lower, slicking over my collarbone. His mouth on a random place like that should not be so damn sexy, but oh god, it feels so good I’m having trouble concentrating. I find the end of his long rope of braid and undo the tie there, then slowly loosen his long hair coil after coil, until it spills over his shoulder and across my face.
I have never, ever had a hair fetish until now, but oh my sweet baby Jesus, J’shel’s hair is getting me so worked up. It’s thick and utterly straight, pitch black in color and so long that it must brush against the backs of his knees when loose. I’ve never seen anything like it and I lift a handful to my face, rubbing it against my lips. I’m so distracted by his amazing hair that I don’t notice where he’s at with the licking until he nips at the tip of my breast.
Then, he has my full attention once more.
J’shel makes a ravenous sound in his throat, his lips dragging over my nipple. He teases it with his tongue, toying with the aching tip and exploring it with lips and mouth. I arch up against him, clinging to those handfuls of hair and pushing my breast higher against his mouth, desperate for more. “Why did I wait so long for this?” I ask him, panting with need. “Next time I’m bossy like that, tell me I’m crazy.”
“I will just spank you instead,” he murmurs, and then moves to my other breast. His hand goes to cover the one he’s abandoned, working and teasing the nipple until I’m squirming underneath him. I never thought too much about what a guy with four hands would be like in bed, but now it’s clear that he’s going to be amazing. One’s teasing my nipple, another skimming along my hip in playful, erotic touches, and he’s supporting his weight with the others so he doesn’t crush me underneath him.
“You telling me you’re going to spank me should not be that sexy,” I manage. It’
s hard to concentrate, hard to breathe, hard to do anything while he’s toying with both of my breasts like that. I’m positively writhing underneath him, so full of need that I’m aching.
“I think you would like it,” he tells my breast, teasing the nipple with that amazing ridged tongue of his. “I would make you like all of it.”
That wouldn’t be too hard. I’m already liking all of this. His mouth is damn talented, as are those big hands. I moan another protest when his mouth slides lower, leaving my breasts behind. As if to appease me, he covers my now-lonely breast with another hand even as he kisses lower, and continues to tease my nipples.
“Oh, fuck, that is so unfair.” I arch my hips up against him, so hot and needy I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I’m vaguely aware of his mouth sliding lower as his hands work my now-ultra-sensitive nipples, toying and plucking at them.
He pushes my thighs apart with another hand, and then J’shel licks at the crease of my hip. I’m panting with eagerness as his mouth goes even lower, working with exquisite slowness over to my pussy. Please, I silently beg. Please, please. I don’t know what I want, I just know that I want more.
More of his mouth. More of his tongue. More of his touches. More everything.
“My mate,” he says, and I can feel his breath hot against my folds. The hand on my thigh spreads my pussy gently, and then he drags a finger through my sex. “You are gleaming with dew here.”
“Oh fuck,” I pant, closing my eyes. Everything in me is squeezing up, squeezing hard, as if I’m going to orgasm just from a big, thick finger sliding through my heat. Maybe I am. I’ve never felt so close so quick.
And J’shel? He is in absolutely no hurry. His hands slow on my breasts, the frantic tease of my nipples giving way to leisurely stroking as he explores my pussy with excruciating thoroughness. I want to wriggle up against that teasing finger when he moves closer to my core, but he skims away again just as quickly, leaving me wanting.