Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

TARUK

A gain, I know I've said something wrong. Zoe glares up at me fiercely, narrowing her eyes in what she thinks is a threatening display. I'm almost tempted to laugh and tell her that she's cute, but that would most likely inspire more of her ire.

The very fact that I find this little waif of a female cute is alarming enough.

"You humans talk and talk, even to the point of ignoring your own injuries," I tell her as I step into my private area. "Is this some defense mechanism for your species? I, for one, cannot allow you to be hurt."

"Injuries? What are you talking about?" she asks, looking utterly bewildered.

I place Zoe gently down on a table, gingerly taking the net of Yumz—as she has named them—from her. I quickly shove them into a cage. Hopefully, this time she isn't going to try and flee with them again.

I grasp her much smaller hand in mine, fingers smoothing over the inflamed surface of her wrist. Already a bruise is forming on her delicate flesh.

"You should go to the medical bay to properly treat this, but this will help until then," I say. With quick actions, I gather some tape from a nearby drawer and begin binding her wrist.

Zoe shrugs her shoulders. "It doesn't hurt that much. I've had worse. This one time at work, I nearly broke my arm when I slipped and fell. The rest of that shift really sucked, let me tell you…"

She flexes her wrist, testing the binding. Her lips tighten as she tries to hide her pain.

I stare at her in bewilderment. She became hurt at work once and continued her assignment? Did her employer not see to her care?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Zoe asks.

"In my experience, a female doesn't just simply ‘continue working' if she becomes injured. My old ma—a female I once knew—whenever she was hurt, you would know about it for days on end." A sourness fills my stomach, churning. It's been a long time since I thought about her. The one time she had been hurt, a fault of her own when I wasn't even present to protect her, I had still somehow held the blame for months afterward.

Zoe was hurt directly because of me, and yet not once has she cried or blamed me for the poor planning.

"We don't always get the luxury to stop," Zoe says. She smiles wanly, though no brightness touches her eyes.

I stare down at her, contemplative. Zoe is nothing like the females I am accustomed to. She's a breath of fresh air, almost a balm on my injured soul. Being around her, in her presence, isn't as painful as I would have once thought. She doesn't complain, even when she has a right to. I haven't met someone as dedicated to a single cause outside of my band of warrior brothers in a long time. The question is, what does she want?

"Hey," Zoe punches me lightly in the shoulder.

I jerk at her sudden violent action. Is this a social action, like one saluting another by tapping his horns?

"We make a good team. We caught a whole bunch of the Yumz together. Teamwork!"

Zoe waves a hand in my face, palm facing towards me. Is she trying to show that she is non-threatening? Normally someone would show the other side of their hand, revealing that their claws are sheathed… but this human doesn't even have claws.

I hold my own hand up between us, showing her the correct way of displaying a non-threatening signal.

"Not like that! This is a high five. You do it when you do something cool, or finish a job with someone," Zoe snorts with laughter as she turns my hand and claps our palms together. "High five!"

She immediately winces as the action places pressure upon her injury.

This human is so… confusing.

Our eyes meet and hold. I'm suddenly aware of how close we are to each other; my body leaning against the table with her legs splayed wide to accommodate my bulk. Even sitting down, she's so much smaller than me. So fragile, it wouldn't be hard to control and direct her motions. I could so easily draw her closer to me, to press our bodies together as she pants…

"Thank you, for taking care of me," Zoe tells me. "I appreciate it."

Her small hand grips my vest, dragging her face up to my own. Her lips brush the side of my mouth, infinitely smooth. For just a brief moment, a chill grabs hold of me, resurfacing old memories. My entire body freezes. Then, just as fast, my blood is pounding in my ears. My muscles remain tense, but all my focus is centered around my suddenly throbbing cokas, straining against my trousers like solid rock.

The Volscian species is an intimate one, enjoying our pleasures. It's been so long since I've been with a female, any female.

Our breaths ghost over each other, mingling. I'm aware of my hands sliding up her legs, gripping her waist and curvy hips. Her body is nothing like mine; my fingers knead the soft flesh, caressing the smooth skin just beneath the hem of her shirt.

"Maybe we should celebrate a job well done?" Zoe asks, her voice husky and wanton. Her eyes jump between mine, searching.

"What are you proposing, little one?" I ask her, my own voice barely recognizable. My nose brushes against hers, my lips hovering just above her own.

Still, she doesn't pull away.

"Taruk, please," Zoe whimpers. "Kiss me already!"

I don't wait for a second asking. My lips slam down over hers, devouring. Her taste explodes on my tongue, and immediately I realize that I'll never get enough of it. I need her, unlike I've ever needed someone ever before.