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If so…good.
“Weird,” she says after he disappears from sight. She turns and eyeballs me, her expression skeptical. “Now do you want to explain to me what the fuck that was all about?”
I do not like that she’s mad at me. I would much rather have her smiling. “I did not like that he was here with you,” I say, and the sulky note is back in my voice. “He was trying to get you to kiss him!”
“Yes, and I said no.” She puts her hands on her hips, gazing up at me like she will fight me for daring to argue with her. “You’re in a strange mood today.”
“I am,” I agree, rubbing my chest where she touched me. “My head feels as if it is full of fire. Every time I see him, his face fills me with rage. I do not like the thought of him bothering you.”
She clucks her tongue and then moves forward, rubbing my arm. “Are you all messed up because of Tia?”
I grunt. Truthfully, I am not thinking of T’ia right now. F’lor’s hand is on my arm and it is very…distracting.
“Well, look.” F’lor squeezes my upper arm, and her hand stays there. “I know R’jaal gets on your nerves, but you can’t fight him. No one fights in the tribe. That’s a sure way to get kicked out.” Her gaze goes to her hand on my arm, and she squeezes my muscle again, as if feeling it. Then, as if realizing what she is doing, she jerks her hand away. “Just…if you want to fight him, promise me you’ll come talk to me instead.”
“I do not like that he thinks he can get you. That now he has decided maybenowhe would like your kisses.”
She smiles up at me. “So grumpy.”
“I want to protect you from him,” I tell her, and it is the truth. She deserves so much better than R’jaal. Someone like…me. The moment the thought bursts into my head, I shove it aside. “What did he say to you?”
F’lor makes a face, her pretty features screwing up as she pats her leathers, looking for something. “He had a talk with O’jek and it made him realize that he shouldn’t have turned me down. I kind of wanted to scream ‘duh’ in his face, but that seemed childish. It’s weird, though. Today’s the first day I wasn’t angry at him, though. Normally when he starts talking about him and me, I get upset. But today I just…didn’t care. Like it felt a thousand years too late.” She shrugs.
Her words please me far more than they should. I am glad that she is done with him. Glad that she is tired of his games. R’jaal desperately wants a mate, but one was standing right in front of him and he turned her away. He does not deserve her. If my mate was standing right in front of me, I would claim her in a heartbeat.
In front of me, F’lor lowers her hood and then pulls at her long hair. It is stuck in the collar of her leather poncho, and so I reach over and absently pull it free for her, brushing the strands away from her neck. My fingers skim over her neck and the heat of it shocks me, jolting me all the way to my cock.
She stares up at me, her eyes wide.
I cannot stop looking at her. At her dainty form, at the warm shade of her skin, at the silky length of dark hair that flows through my fingers. R’jaal is a fool, I think again. How can he possibly walk away from this?
F’lor’s mouth opens, and then she closes it, biting back her words. “I should get my gathering bag.”
“Where is it?” She does not move, and I find I am reluctant to do so, as well. I cannot stoplookingat her. Breathing in herscent.
“Near the cliff.” F’lor pauses and then makes a small, wordless sound and then turns, presenting me with her back. “M-my leathers are caught in my belt. Can you fix them for me?”
I grunt and then grab the poncho she has hanging over her back and pull it off, tossing it aside.
Her breath hitches, as if my actions were unexpected, and it seems she is as aware of me as I am of her. My movements feel slow, as if I am underwater, and I watch as my hand reaches out for her belt. Her leather tunic is caught against her belt, and the belt itself is twisted. It is a simple action to work it free and smooth her clothing for her.
But my blood roars in my ears.
I can think of nothing but F’lor and her maddening scent. F’lor and her pretty mouth and her soft skin. F’lor and the curve of her bottom as I reach for her leathers. She seems to lean in to me when I touch her clothes, and instead of placing my hand on the snag of her tunic, I place my hand upon her buttock.
F’lor whimpers. Her eyes flutter closed and she sucks in a breath. In the next moment, she pushes her bottom back against my hand, a not-so-subtle gesture that my touch is welcome.
A groan escapes me and I bend over her. She is tiny compared to me, her head only reaching the top of my chest, but that means I can envelop her against me, and I do so now. I wrap my arms around her, burying my face against her neck and taking another deep breath of her scent.
So perfect. So maddeningly perfect.
Mine.
I realize in that moment that my mate is in front of me after all. F’lor makes another soft whimper, turning her face towards mine.
I will not waste this moment—not like R’jaal would. Just thinking of him sends another possessive, furious flare through my veins. With a groan, I turn her in my arms until we are facing one another. I cup her face and tilt it up, claiming her mouth. I slick my tongue against hers, my movements hungry and ferocious.
This maddening female wraps her arms around my neck andsuckson my tongue.
