“Puny?” I sputter, and then give his arm a light smack when I realize there’s a playful grin on his face. He’s teasing me.
“Your hands are already like ice,” he says, taking my fingers in his. “Even your khui cannot keep up with this kind of cold.” His grip radiates warmth and he pulls my hand to his mouth and blows warm air on it.
For some reason, this makes my nipples prick. His touch is tender and caring, and the teasing look he gives me is flirty and totally Aehako.
“We have to go very soon,” I tell him in a soft voice. “It’s imperative.”
“Something troubles you,” he says, cupping my hand between his and rubbing my fingers to keep them warm. “Will you share with me what it is?”
Oh God, I really want to. I move closer to him and offer him my other hand so he can give it the same treatment, and he takes it, gently cupping it and then rubbing his fingers on my cold ones to warm them. But if I tell him, will he try to mobilize the others to save me? Their spears and slings won’t do much against aliens with the technology I’ve seen.
So I come up with a lie. Or a half-lie, anyhow. “I just…worry that the aliens are going to come back. I worry that each day here is going to be our last. That I’m going to wake up tomorrow and find myself back in the alien ship, a captive again.”
I expect him to give me comforting words. To tell me that it isn’t the case. That I’m safe with him. Instead, he gently blows on my hands again and says, “No one can predict what will happen tomorrow, Kira. I might fall off of a cliff and break my neck. I might catch a khui sickness. Or…I might live to be old and grizzled like Kemli and her mate Borran.” He shrugs his big shoulders. “But I do know that living in fear of what might happen prevents us from enjoying what we have today.”
Oddly enough, his words make me feel better. I slide a little closer to him, sharing his warmth. “I’m afraid I can’t turn my mind off enough to live in the moment. I wish that I could.”
“I can show you how,” he murmurs.
I stare at his mouth, fascinated by the flashes of sharp teeth behind those soft smiling lips. I shouldn’t kiss him. I shouldn’t want to kiss him. My time here is limited. The bad aliens are coming back, and they’re going to come straight for me, because I’m still wearing this stupid earpiece. But I’m so ridiculously attracted to Aehako that it’s insane. I want him to touch me. I want his kisses and his attention. I want to flirt back with him, even though every ounce of my being says that it’s a bad idea.
Damn it, I want flirting to be a good idea.
“Life can be sweet, even if you take it one day at a time,” he murmurs, and his fingers go to my tangled hair, brushing it away from my face.
I lean in to his touch. I can’t help myself. I’ve felt so isolated and alone since we were taken. I want to be able to relax in safety. I want someone to hold me close and tell me that everything’s going to be all right. “I’m afraid I might not have many days left,” I confess to him. My hand covers his, and I hold it to my cheek. He’s careful not to touch the hated translator piece jutting from my ear, but I’m all too conscious of it there. Even now it hums and chirps conversations from inside the cave into my head. I hate that it won’t be quiet. I want silence. I want an end to all the worry and anxiety.
Aehako leans in and tilts my face up to his. Intention is written over every line of his face. He’s going to kiss me. He’s also moving in slow enough that I can stop him at any time if I don’t want it.
But I do. So I grab one of his big horns and pull him down closer to me, closing the distance between us. His mouth meets mine, and then we’re hungrily kissing. His mouth slicks over mine, his tongue questing deep into my own mouth, and for a time, I forget all about aliens or the chatter inside. I forget about the translator surgically attached to my ear. I forget about everything but the soft lips of the man kissing me, and his wonderful taste. Of the gentle clash of our teeth when our kiss gets too enthusiastic. Of the way his tongue coaxes against my own, encouraging me to be just as aggressive as him.
His hand slides up to my breast and he pushes me back – and to my surprise, I realize I’m pressed up against the cliffside, the smooth rock hard against my spine. His hand goes to my breast, his mouth never lifting from mine. I give a small squeak in surprise against his lips when his thumb grazes my nipple. That small touch sends skitters of pleasure all through my body, jolting nerve endings that I didn’t realize I had. My pulse hammers through me, and I want him to do it again. I break our kiss and stare up at him, panting. “I…”