Barbarian's Taming: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 9) (4 page)

“I…oh.” I suddenly don’t know what to say. That sounds awful, and yet at the same time, I can’t believe I’m having feelings of sympathy toward the douche that stole my sister. Because I know what it’s like to be ignored. I know what it’s like to feel like everyone in the world is against you. I know what it feels like to be on the outside and wanting desperately to be accepted.

I just didn’t think I’d be feeling kinship towards
Hassen
. I’ve been told over and over again that Lila was never in danger with him, that he only stole her because he wanted to take care of her and mate with her, but I’ve been holding on to a lot of damn anger over that, regardless. He tried to force her hand, and that was not cool.

But now I’m also seeing another layer below ‘cocky jerkbag.’ He still is, but he’s also…lonely and desperate. He saw my sister as a chance and he took it. I should hate him for that. Instead, I keep thinking about how warm his fuzzy, velvety chest was.

I must be an idiot. “Well, if you’re bored,” I say lightly, “then teach me how to hunt. We can keep each other company.” I twang the bow string that’s snugged between my breasts like a seatbelt. “I need to learn to be useful. Not just because I need to contribute to the food situation, but I need something to
do
.”

I don’t point out the thought niggling in the back of my mind: that I need to be able to take care of myself if I ever can’t take it and want to leave the tribe. I keep telling myself that will never happen, and yet I keep thinking about it. Because I don’t feel loved, or needed, or accepted, and I didn’t realize how badly I needed those things until now.

Hassen regards me for such a long time that I can’t tell what’s going on in that head of his. Is he thinking about teaching me? Is he thinking dirty thoughts about me? Is he…focused on the fucking? I shiver at the thought, because that’s another that won’t leave my head.

Stupid head, always holding on to the wrong stuff.

I fiddle with the bowstring again and his gaze goes there. I freeze, because now that means he’s looking right at my boobs. I hope he’s not wondering why they’re so much bigger than all the other girls here. None of the aliens are fat, and that would be a hella awkward conversation to have.

“I am supposed to be exiled,” he finally says, looking up at my eyes once more.

“That’s cool,” I say brightly. “I’ll just teach myself. No biggie.” I turn away.

He grabs my arm, and to my surprise, he growls—just like a bear. It’s weird…and it makes my body thrill just a bit more than it should. “You did not let me finish, female.”

“Pfft. Then go ahead and finish,
male
.” I turn back to him and gesture grandly. “Continue.”

Hassen crosses his arms over his chest. And okay, I really should not be paying attention to the fact that it makes his arms flex into the most incredible biceps, or that his pectorals are these amazing flat squares of muscle that are just begging to be petted again. “We cannot tell anyone that we are meeting. I do not wish for the chief to prolong my exile.”

Oh. Is that his only concern? I smile, relieved. It feels like he just agreed to be my friend, and it’s strange how happy that makes me. “Cool. So you’re going to tutor me after all?”

He gives a quick nod and studies me again. “But not with this bow.”

“Why not?”

“Your arms are not long enough to draw it properly. You are smaller than Leezh.”

That’s not something I hear often, and I preen a bit at that. I mean, clearly he’s not talking about our figures, because Liz just had a baby and I’m still larger than her, but I like hearing it anyhow. “Then what?”

He grabs my hand and studies it, frowning to himself.

“W-what are you looking at?” God, I sound all breathless. But him grabbing my hand has kind of thrown me for a loop. His hands are so freaking big, and I feel all dainty and girly next to him.

“You have small fingers,” he tells me, and it sounds like an admonition. “And small hands. Too small for my blades.”

“Are there extras somewhere I can borrow?” Part of me wants to pull my hand back out of his grip, and the other part of me wants him to stroke his thumb down the length of my upturned palm. Or kiss it. Yeah, kissing would work.

Oh, god, now I’m having weird sex fantasies about the guy that kidnapped my sister.

I snatch my hand out of his and he looks surprised, then seems to shrug it off. “The storage cave.”

I think of the layout of the tribal cave. There’s a room or two in the back of the ‘new’ wing—the area with all the rough-cut rock—where a lot of extra furs and bones and things are kept. “I think I know where that is. I’ll look.”

“We will meet there in the morning,” he corrects me. “I will pick out the appropriate weapons for your hand size and we will train on those.”

I want to object to his chauvinistic ‘I will pick for the lil’ lady’ attitude, but I actually don’t know if my hand size is going to affect things after all. Maybe I’m just being defensive. I look at the big knives strapped to his belt and try to imagine them in my hands. Okay, yeah, he might be on to something. “We can go back there now—”

“No. For now, I am going to take you home.”

Arrogant jerk. “Why?”

“Because there are metlaks in this area and it is not safe for you.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and slowly turns me back toward the direction I came. “So I am going to guide you home and then I am going to go and find Taushen and make sure that he made it back to the cave, too.”

Taushen? Huh? “Okayyyy. What time are we meeting in the morning, then? Because I have to warn you, my schedule’s pretty full,” I say flippantly.

“Schedule?” The way he says the word is funny, all drawn out and strange. “What is this?”

“It’s a joke,” I reply dryly. “Never mind.”

* * *

I
fart around
in the tribal cave for the rest of the day. Really, there’s nothing for me to do and everyone else seems so preoccupied that I feel awkward asking if anyone needs help. And really, there’s not much I can do to help with a lot of stuff. I don’t know anything about babies, or skinning, or fletching arrows, weaving, or any of that stuff, so I mostly end up sitting around the fire looking bored. Normally there are a few people sitting around shooting the shit, but today the cave feels incredibly empty. There are a few elders sitting around, and I can hear a baby crying in the distance. The fire keeps burning down to ashes and so I have to keep stoking it, which is…not something I’m good at. I end up shoving a lot of the big dried dung chips onto the fire and hoping for the best.

Which means that I’ve got a huge blaze going by the time someone drops by.

“Jeez, cold?” Stacy swings back through with her papoose and gives me a curious look. “Do you need more furs? Because stoking the fire that high won’t do more than just burn a lot of fuel—”

“It was an accident,” I say, feeling defensive. “I didn’t mean to make it so big. It just kept going out.”

“Oh. Well, you have to stack the chips really close together to get it to burn for a long time. That’s why some of them are bundled together.” She bustles over to the fire and uses a couple of the poking sticks to shove all the fuel into a tight, tidy little pile. The flames die a bit and settle back to a less-than-blazing roar.

“Thanks,” I say, and try to sound like I mean it. I hate that everyone’s constantly correcting me on how to do even the most basic of things.

“Of course,” she says, and the expression on her face tells me she is contemplating a strategic retreat from the fire. Damn, am I that unpleasant to be around?

I smile at Stacy, a little desperate for company. I pat one of the nearby stools, encouraging her to stay. “So what are you up to?”

The tension eases from her body and she relaxes. She doesn’t sit in the stool next to me but pulls up one across the fire and produces her frying pan from her satchel. “Josie’s been sick all afternoon, so I thought I’d make her some cakes. They’re easier on the stomach than raw meat. Or cooked meat.”

“Or that peppery dried meat stuff.”

Stacy wrinkles her nose. “Yep. So I thought I’d make cakes.” She pulls out her little pot of grease and rubs down the surface of the skillet, and I watch her. The skillet itself is pretty junky looking—a square with bent-up edges to form a lip, soldered onto a long metal handle with a bone grip. Where they got the solder, I have no idea. Stacy’s the only one with a skillet though, and that kind of makes her the unofficial cook of the group, just like Tiffany’s the unofficial gardener. They both have skills they’re putting to use.

I have nothing practical to offer, which is a real bummer. A bartender on an ice planet is about as useful as a runway model.

Stacy takes a chunk of the fleshy white root, dices it, and then adds a bit more grease and a few other ingredients I don’t recognize before patting it into a cake and then puts it on the skillet over the fire. “How’s your roommate?”

“The same.”

“She like the cake I made for her? Should I make her more?”

I shrug. “I can take her more if you make them, but I don’t know if she’ll eat them.” I don’t point out that she didn’t eat the last one. Someone’s here and actually talking to me, and I don’t want to scare her off. “You seen Farli lately? She usually hangs out with me.” The teenager is my best buddy in the cave, it seems.

“She went with the others for the sa-kohtsk hunt. Pashov went with them. Georgie, too.”

“Are they going to be hunting?” I try to picture the chief’s wife and teenage Farli attacking one of those things.

“Probably just going to help out and get out of the cave for a while before the brutal season hits.”

Right. Because winter is coming, yadda yadda. I’ve been hearing a lot about it for weeks now, but I don’t see how it can get much worse than it already is.

Stacy looks up and smiles at someone behind me. “Hey, Josie. How are you feeling?”

I look up as Josie drops onto the stool next to me. There’s a pale cast to her face, and her hair is limp and sweaty. “Awful. Did I say I wanted morning sickness? Clearly I’m insane.” Her hands go to her stomach. “Please tell me this doesn’t last long.”

“It doesn’t last long,” Stacy parrots.

“Liar.”

“You didn’t ask for the truth,” Stacy retorts. “Here, I’m making you cakes. Maybe you can keep them down.”

Josie puts a finger under her nose as if to block out the smell. “I guess. I wish Haeden was here.” She blinks back huge tears. “I hate that I’ve been sick all day and he’s off hunting. I
need
him.”

“Oh, honey,” Stacy says, voice soft. “You’re hormonal. He went with Maylak’s hunting party. They’re getting a khui for that cute baby of hers. You know he can’t stay in the cave and stroke your hair all day.”

“Can’t he?” she says wistfully. She looks over at me as if noticing me for the first time. “Did you not go out with the others, Maddie?”

“Didn’t feel like it,” I lie. Obviously Josie has been in her cave enough that she doesn’t know that I wasn’t invited. I’m not going to disabuse her of that notion. “Thought I’d stick around and hang out here.”

“It’s boring without my Haeden,” Josie says, sighing gustily.

Stacy just rolls her eyes.

“Having a hard time staying busy?” I ask. God, I know how that feels.

“Not in the ways I want to be busy,” Josie says with a pout.

“Overshare,” Stacy says, flipping a cake and then sliding it onto one of her plates.

“Oh, come on. I’m pregnant. Sometimes you get an itch and it really, really needs to be scratched. You weren’t horny when you were pregnant, Stace?”

Stacy holds the plate out to Josie. “I’m sure I was, but I’m also pretty sure Maddie doesn’t want to hear about your sex life.”

Josie takes the plate from Stacy and looks over at me. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s all right. At least one of us is having sex.” And for some reason, the moment the words come out of my mouth, I think of Hassen.

You wish me to fuck you? I accept.

I suddenly feel very restless. I think of the way his skin felt under my hands, the warmth of his body, how big and strong he was. How good he felt to touch. I shouldn’t be noticing these things about Hassen of all people. And yet. And yet.

I’m attracted to him, and I haven’t been attracted to anyone else on this planet. I couldn’t get past the horns and the fangs and the tails—dear lord, the tails. But with Hassen, I’m not thinking about that. I’m mostly thinking about pectorals. And how velvety soft his skin was.

You wish me to fuck you? I accept.

Is it…wrong to want to tap the ass of a man that kidnapped my sister?

Probably.

Am I thinking about it anyhow?

Oh, yeah.

“I didn’t think I’d be this bad when I was pregnant,” Josie is saying. “Like, I thought once the baby was in, I wouldn’t want Haeden to touch me until it came back out again. But oh, man.” She sighs dramatically and wraps her arms around her torso. “Being pregnant just means I need sex all the damn time.”

“We know,” Stacy says dryly, putting a new cake on the fire. “You’re noisy.”

“Don’t care,” Josie’s voice is cheerful. “It’s just that sometimes you gotta scratch an itch, you know? And lately, man, have I been
itching
.”