Barbarian's Touch: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 8) (9 page)

Especially when he comes and sits down across from me. I can’t seem to stop blushing. He looks at me with a focused intensity that tells me that I’m probably not the only one full of super horny feels, which is even more awkward. He takes one of the furry pillows and sets it in his lap, and then walks his fingers across it and then points at me. What’s he asking?

I gesture for him to show me again.

He points at me, and then does the walking motion again, and then says something. Oh.
Hassen
, he’s saying. He wants to know why I left.

I purse my lips, trying to think of the best way to describe how I felt. There’s no way a hand gesture is going to adequately convey things, and he only knows a handful of signs. “He made me feel unsafe. Too watched. Like he wanted me to be his wife or something. I worried he was going to stop asking and start demanding.” I sign the words as well as speak them, just because it’s comforting.

The look on his face grows thunderous with anger, and he shifts in his seat, as if just the idea of Hassen being pushy is making him antsy. He picks up the knife I’ve left lying on the ground and puts it back on my hand, handle first. He thinks for a minute with his hands in the air, as if trying to come up with the right gesture. Then, he clenches a fist and nods.
Safe
, he mouths, then points at himself.

If this was Hassen? I’d totally laugh at the thought of him declaring himself safe. But this is Rowdan. He’s just different in every way. “I know, Rowdan. And thank you.”

His lips twitch.
Rowdan
, he says.

“Rowdan,” I repeat helpfully. “Is that not your name?” I tap at my breast. “Lila.” Then I reach forward and tap on his chest. “Rowdan.”

And oh, boy, I shouldn’t have touched him. His skin is velvety soft under my fingertips, and I have to fight the urge to touch him again. The purring vibration in my chest increases and my nipples get all tight again. Jeez. Mental note to self - no more alien touching. That way lies danger.

But if he notices how unsettled I am, he doesn’t say anything. He taps my shoulder and I watch his tongue move as he mouths my name.
Li-lah
. Then he taps himself and mouths his own name.

It looks like Rowdan to me. I say his name again.

He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt aloud. “Lip-reading is an imprecise science because a lot of it depends on how the mouth moves with the tongue and I’m not getting the nuances. I—“

I go quiet as he takes my hand in his and presses my fingers to his mouth. He’s warm. Holy heck, he’s so freaking warm. My fingers - which are always a little cold here on this icy planet - feel like they’re rubbing against a velvety heating pad. Gosh. I could touch him all over.

And then, of course, I blush at the thought and press my thighs tight together once more.

His mouth moves, and I realize he’s saying his name. This is important to him, then, that I get his name right. Okay. I focus on his mouth and how it moves under my fingers, but all I can think about are his surprisingly soft lips brushing against my fingertips. I could almost swear he’s purring, or maybe I’m just purring hard enough that I can feel it all through him.

Except now he’s waiting.

Yeah, I got nothing. I don’t think I was even thinking about his name, just how he felt. “Again, but slower?”

He does it again, and oh my God, it feels like he’s kissing my fingers.
Stop it, Lila
, I chide myself.
Focus.
So I concentrate on each syllable.
Ro
is the first part, but when he comes to the second part, I realize there’s no tongue-flick against the teeth that would be there for a
D
sound. I try again a moment later. “Ro-kan?”

He nods and then his mouth stretches into a grin, and I feel it move against my fingers. I smile back, delighted. I feel so good touching him. Then, he goes extremely still.

And I realize that we’ve both been silent, not communicating, and my fingers are still on his mouth. Boy, less than a day and I’ve already made things awkward with Rowdan — sorry, Rokan. I snatch my hand away and shove it under the blankets, rubbing a half-assed sorry sign in front of my chest and turn away. I’m so embarrassed—

He grabs my hand, forcing me to look at him. The look on his face isn’t weird or too intense, like Hassen. Now that he has my attention, he drops my hand and makes the circle motion on his chest, and looks at me, questioning.

Oh. “That’s ‘sorry’. I’m sorry I touched you.”

His brows go ever so slightly down and he nods slowly. I notice for the first time that his face has thick ridges over the brows that lead to his horns. It’s interesting. There’s so many things I want to ask about but I feel strangled by my inability to pick up the nuances of conversation.

Maybe Rokan feels the same. Because he taps my shoulder to get my attention and then points at the knife. His hand moves slightly and then he looks at me, a question in his gaze. He wants to know the sign for it.

He wants to be able to communicate with me.

I’m filled with warmth, and I settle in and gesture.

O
ut
? Li-lah signals to me, a question on her face as she rises from her furs.
You out?

Hunt
, I signal back.
Food.

Her brows draw together and she frowns, as if displeased with this answer.
Food
? She gestures at the smoked meat by the fire.

Food. Travel.
I sign the words, wishing I knew how to communicate better with her.
You, me, travel. Food.
It’s the best way I know to communicate that we are going to need additional supplies. It is not a lie, though I feel guilty telling her that this is the reason why I must leave the cave this day. Because it is the truth, but not all of it. I gesture at her and then indicate that she should stay, and I will go.

She looks vaguely unhappy but then nods and moves back to her blankets. Her long, slim legs curl under her, flashing under the hem of the tunic before she pulls the blankets over her body.

I smother my groan, biting my lips closed. I do not want her to see my mouth moving and wonder what it is I say.

Instead, I just nod at her and leave the cave behind.

Being with Li-lah is better than I have ever dreamed, and somehow very difficult. I want to spend every moment with her; I watch her small movements, the way she moves her long hair over her shoulder with a graceful sweep, the tiny smile that plays on her lips when I do a sign badly, all of these things. I could watch her all day. Sometimes I watch her sleep, just because she is a craving in my gut. I love the faint, almost nervous sound of her laugh, and her rushed words that can be very loud or very quiet, because she cannot hear herself. I love the way her hands move as she talks. And I am doing my best to learn her words because there are so many things I wish to say to her.

I am also doing my best to fight resonance.

It is not as easy as I had hoped.

My heart, my mind, and my body? They all want her. When she sleeps, it takes everything I have not to join her in the furs. When she smiles, my entire body reacts. When she says my name in that soft way, I feel my sac tighten and my tail flicks in response. I have felt desire before, and it has always been something quickly taken care of with my hand in a private moment.

But in the small cave, there are not many private moments. And I do not want my hand. I want Li-lah.

If she is as affected as I am, she does not show it. She seems easy and relaxed, and her smile is always bright when she sees me. When her khui hums, she will rub her chest, but has not said more about it.

She does not know what it means to resonate. Mah-dee was quite upset when she found out, so it is likely that Li-lah does not grasp what her khui is telling her. Humans do not resonate, so I cannot expect her to come into my arms right away. Either way, I have vowed that I will not touch Li-lah until she asks me to.

And then I worry she will never ask.

It is one reason why I must leave the cave, and do so quickly. I need time alone to take my cock in hand. I cannot run and hunt with my cock standing upright, and I cannot remain in the cave with her all day and not be overwhelmed with need.

I must be patient.

I must.

I will not lose Li-lah’s smiles, her trust, for anything.

I head out into the snow, down a safe distance from the cave. When the entrance is no longer in sight, I sling my bow over my shoulder and tear at the lacings holding up my loincloth. My stiff, aching cock is freed to the cool air and I take it in hand. Li-lah’s face is in my thoughts as I stroke myself quick and hard. This is not about pleasure. This is about relief.

Even so, it feels like a betrayal to do so. My body is Li-lah’s now.

* * *

I
return
to the cave a short time later, and I feel no more at peace than I did when I left. The time spent with my hand was short, and brought only a moment’s relief. Only resonance will cure the ache in my body, but I will not pressure Li-lah. I will simply make do until she is ready. And I feel another stab of resentment for Hassen for making her even more frightened of us than she needs to be.

She will not trust me when I tell her that we need to find him and let him know that she is safe. As much as it pains me, finding Hassen is the right thing to do. I know Hassen well, and I know he will not stop in his searching until he finds her. He will feel responsible for her safety. I must let him know she is safe, and then we will travel back to the home caverns together.

I am not sure how he will react when he finds out I have resonated to Li-lah.

That is something we will need to deal with, but not now. For now, I must speak to my mate. The thought makes my chest hum pleasantly. My mate. As I enter the cave, she is there, curled up in blankets near the fire. She sits up at the sight of me, pushing her long, dirty hair off her face, and gives me the greeting gesture. I am struck by how beautiful and fragile my mate is. Was there ever a male as lucky as I am to mate such a lovely female? It makes me want to protect her even more.

While I was out, I hunted, and I bring my small quill-beast to the fire. She prefers her meat charred instead of full of fresh blood, so it will be skinned and go on a skewer. She will need a lot of meat for the walking we will do. As much as I would like to stay here alone with her and wait for her to welcome me to her furs, we cannot.

I skin the quill-beast and spit it over the fire, turning it so it does not burn on one side. I keep a watchful eye on her, in case she wants to hand-talk. I do not want to miss a word. But she is silent, her gaze on the fire. I decide to stay busy, then, melting snow for drinking water and then turning over the quill-beast hide to pluck the thorns it carries on its back and feed them into the fire.

“Rokan?” Her soft voice sends a shiver up my spine.

My body reacts, my sac tightening and I clench a fist, trying to control myself. I would close my eyes, but I cannot, because I must see her. So I force a smile to my face and nod. I make the ‘talk’ hand-word she has taught me to indicate I am listening.

She begins to gesture, and then sighs aloud. “You won’t know the words. Are you ok? You seem tense.” She moves her hands, pulling back in a gesture that must be the hand-talk. “Jittery.”

I do not know what jih-tree means, but she is right that I am tense. I think about my response. “It is resonance,” I tell her, and put a hand over my heart and then tap it, indicating the thrumming song that sings out of my breast even now. Hers is doing the same. “And it is more.” I try to think of the right hand-speak words. “Tomorrow we travel.” I put my fingers on the ground to indicate legs, and walk them, then point at her. “You. Me. Travel.” I point outside then try to gesture something that communicates the suns coming up over the mountains. “Morning.”

Her big eyes are thoughtful as she watches me, then nods. “We’re leaving?”

Relieved, I nod.

To my surprise, she smiles. “Maddie? My sister?” She makes another hand signal. “This one means sister.” Her eyes light up. “You’re taking me to her?”

She has misunderstood, and the excitement in her eyes dies when I shake my head. I am frustrated she has ignored my mention of resonance. Does it not bother her like it does me? It consumes my every moment. A darker thought occurs to me - does she ignore it because she does not like the idea of resonating to me? I am filled with despair. Reluctantly, I tap my breast and then drum my fingers over my heart, trying to signal the song it makes for her.

Li-lah just furrows her brows slightly and then shakes her head. “Maddie?” she asks again.

I bite back my sorrow. Perhaps in time she will come to care for me. “Hassen,” I correct. “We travel to Hassen.”

She recoils, jerking back from the fire. “What?” She remembers herself a moment later and then makes the same incredulous hand-gesture.

It takes me a few moments and a lot of hand-waving before I can successfully communicate to her that Hassen is hunting her, and will not stop until he finds her.
Hassen home
, I signal.
Li-lah home. Rokan home.

Her expression grows sad again. “My home is across the stars,” she whispers, her eyes growing shiny.

Her unhappiness pierces my gut. I sign a new answer.
Li-lah go Rokan home
.

At this, she nods and the look in her eyes is wary.
Rokan no Li-lah Hassen?

It takes her gesturing this twice before I realize what she is saying. Am I giving her back to him?

“No!” I make the gesture quickly, and relief crosses her face. Even if I wanted to, I could not. She is my resonance mate. I tap my breast and then point at hers. “Resonance decides.”

She tilts her head and then gives a small shake. “So tomorrow we travel?” She gestures sun-up, then walking, then points at me.

I nod, though my heart is sinking. Again, she changes the subject. Is she not even curious what resonance means? Why does she not ask? Does she not wish to be my mate? Does she want to go back to Hassen after all? That cannot be, can it? I think of Leezh and Raahosh, and how their bickering is teasing between them. I think of Asha and the mate she hates. My heart feels as if it is being crushed in my chest.

“Rokan?” Li-lah looks at me with concerned eyes.

I nod. “Tomorrow.”

She smiles again then gestures at the water warming over the fire.
Drink? Wash?

If she wishes to wash, I will just melt more water. I make the yes signal, and then reach into my pack. While I was out earlier, I found soapberries and gathered them for her. I pull out the small pouch and offer it to her.

Li-lah takes it and studies the bag, then looks at me. She opens it and pulls a berry out, then sniffs it.
Good
? Her hand signal asks.

I nod absently, concentrating on the fire and willing my khui to stop singing.

A moment later she spits, and I look up in time to see her wiping her tongue with the back of her hand. She makes a horrified face.

I laugh. I cannot help it.
Good, wash
, I sign.
Not good eat.

“Now you tell me,” she mutters. She wrinkles her nose and hands the bag back to me. “I don’t know how to wash with berries.”

Do they not have such things on her world? I try to think of what the other humans have mentioned, but I have not paid much attention to their tales of their old home. Now I wish I had. I take a handful of berries from her and close my fist around them, letting the juice drip into foam. I gesture at her hair with my other hand, and make the ‘water’ signal.

Her face lights up.
Yes
, she signs, and then moves to the water warming over the fire. She unhooks the pouch, and looks over at me. When I nod, she bends over and half-pours, half-dips her long mane in the water, working it through until it is wet. I watch this with some fascination, and when she reaches for the berries, I hold my hand out to her.

Li-lah’s fingers brush over my palm in a caress. My cock surges to life and I grit my teeth. My khui sings even louder, the song urgent and full of need. I hear hers respond but she ignores it, lathering her fingers and then working the berry juice into her hair. Her eyes close and there is a look of utter pleasure on her face. A breathless little moan escapes her.

It is too much.

I jolt to my feet, the need to leave the cave overwhelming. Actually, I do not wish to leave at all. I wish to take her by the hand and lead her to the furs where we can discover each other’s bodies. I wish to bury my cock in the warmth of her cunt.

But since I can do none of those things, I must leave and take myself in hand again.

I open my eyes and watch as Rokan stumbles out of the cave. My hands are in my soapy hair, so I can’t sign to him and ask what’s wrong. Not that I need to. I can guess based off of the enormous erection that’s tenting the front of his pants.

And that makes me feel both good and bad.

Maybe it’s the constant purring in my chest that’s acting like a low-grade vibrator (granted, a vibrator in the wrong spot, but still), and maybe it’s the fact that I’m sharing close quarters with a guy that I find sexy in a rather bizarre, horned-and-tailed sort of way. Whatever it is, landing on this ice planet has turned me into a different woman. I never really thought about sex too much before. Now, I can’t stop thinking about it. And I can’t stop thinking about it with Rokan. I’ve imagined dozens of scenarios between us in the last few days. Maybe I lick my fingers and then he decides to have a taste. Maybe he wakes up in the middle of the night and slides into bed with me and I don’t say no. Maybe I show him the ASL gesture for sex?

Maybe I moan on purpose when I start washing my hair.

I mean, it does feel good to lather up and get rid of some of the grease in my hair. Definitely moan-worthy. But a tiny, naughty part of me wanted to see how he’d react.

And he bolted, so I guess that’s a reaction, even if it wasn’t the one I particularly wanted. Then again, I’m not entirely sure what I want. I’m troubled by the fact that we’re going to leave tomorrow and go find Hassen. He’s the last person I want to find, but I understand what Rokan is saying - Hassen’s still out there searching for me. And while a small, petty part of me is glad he’s having a rough time, I know that Rokan’s a good, caring guy, and he’s going to want his buddy to be safe. Or something.