Page 344 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Meena

I woke up curled up inside Jakar’s brawny arms, my body still exhausted and a little sore between the legs.

That didn’t matter. I hadn’t felt this at peace—this whole—since waking from stasis.

Jakar as my mate was starting to sound better and better.

If this was how he’d help me sleep each night, I was totally down for it.

If it weren’t for our limited supplies, I would have suggested we stay here, in this safe little nest, for another week, even with the lack of showers.

Wrinkling my nose, I lifted an arm to sniff. Yuck, no, maybe not. Yesterday and last night’s activities had definitely left me in need of a shower. We had soap, which I was definitely going to use in a moment—when I could convince myself to actually move.

Tilting my chin up, I felt my stomach clench at the sight of Jakar’s face while he was resting.

His stubble-covered chin was beginning to transition into a beard, but he still had something boyish about him like this.

Maybe it was the yellow freckle spots scattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks that made him look youthful.

I liked that they were yellow while he was sleeping; that meant he was happy.

With him around, I didn’t feel so broken, so messed up for doing what I’d done to survive.

He was making me forget about it, and his playful, optimistic nature meant I’d found my ability to laugh again.

That was probably the gift I liked the most, out of all the ones he’d given me.

Still, I liked all of them. My hand drifted to my neck, touching the string of hand-carved wooden beads, painted in many vibrant colors. I wore the matching bracelet, too.

I’d been so happy to see him pull them from his bag last night.

He’d recovered them from the streets of Rakex, and I was happy I could stop imagining someone else wearing them.

These were the first things I truly owned in my new life in this alien world.

I’d gotten crazily attached to them, far more than I’d ever been to anything I owned.

Okay, back to the Vagabond, back to living on a ship.

I was a paralegal back on Earth, but I doubted any of those skills transferred out here.

I’d have to reeducate myself, but I could do that; I was good at school.

Then what? Move into Jakar’s cabin? Have those four-armed little babies that my mom would want me to have?

I shivered at the thought, a little hint of trepidation skirting up my spine.

No, I was definitely not ready for that kind of commitment yet.

Baby steps, then. The ship, a new career, maybe some badass survival training from my red-skinned lover…

Yeah, we’d keep it casual for now, and I could let it grow into more if I ever got ready for that.

Jakar wasn’t going to judge me for what I’d done to survive—I knew that—but a part of me was still worried about talking about it, about sharing.

Mind made up, I finally patted Jakar on the chest to wake him.

Light had been streaming in through the hollow opening for some time, and there were tons of alien birds singing and chattering up in the branches surrounding us.

It surprised me he was still asleep. Like this, he reminded me a little of my younger brother—he could sleep through anything, especially after a wild night.

Last night and afternoon definitely qualified as wild.

I flushed just thinking about what we’d been up to during rounds two, three, and four.

Jakar had a mountain of imagination, boundless enthusiasm, and an endless supply of stamina.

Those four hands came in extremely handy, too.

I liked it very much when he could pin me down with one set while playing me like a fine-tuned instrument with the other pair.

He was a quick study, and once he’d figured out how to make me come, he tried to find many ways to achieve that result—each one more inventive than the last.

“Morning, Tarzan,” I said with a grin as his eyes fluttered open and settled on my face immediately.

I could see the way they lit up—glowing—like I was the best thing ever.

A girl could get used to that kind of look.

After feeling like shit, like absolute dirt, for the last week, this was like a balm to my ragged soul.

“Hey, Meena, did you sleep well?” he asked, already sitting up, one biceps bulging as he supported his weight.

I liked the picture he made with his muscular body shamelessly on display.

I was starting to get really partial to that golden shimmer that glinted along his red skin when the sunlight hit him just right.

“Yup,” I said, reluctantly sitting up, too.

After that, I prioritized washing up, which was a little scary to do, sitting on a branch so high up in the air, using only bottled water and soap.

Jakar was more than willing to help me out, which meant things took far longer than planned, but at least I didn’t end up going splat at the bottom of the tree, and I walked away with a free orgasm to boot.

A girl could get used to that kind of treatment.

Then I sat on the branch and watched with fascination as Jakar used a sharp blade and the soap to shave off that beginning beard. There was something sexy about how confidently he moved such a big, sharp knife over his skin without ever cutting himself.

Back in the hollow, I ate and brushed my hair at the same time while Jakar packed up everything except the last lantern.

He’d given me the leftover meat from last night and the remaining berries, which I really liked.

He devoured four of the ration bars he’d packed in quick succession on his own.

No wonder, as he had to burn massive amounts of calories to maintain the kind of physique he had, not to mention the climbing he’d done while carrying me.

I had been kind of dreading the climb back down, but he’d promised we’d walk the first stretch until I got tired.

It was pretty obvious he didn’t think I’d last very long—and he was probably right—but I was still determined to prove him wrong.

I didn’t want to be carried home like a damsel in distress, not all the way, at least.

Curled up against his chest, my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, I was trying to focus on the feel of his body against mine and to remember all those lovely things we got up to last night.

I still didn’t like the thought of having to hang off him all day like this, but I had to admit that it was the only way down.

“Ready,” I told him, and out of the hollow we went, only one arm cupped below my ass to support my weight.

I looked over his shoulder, ignoring the soft strands of his hair brushing against my cheeks.

The forest was beautiful, green, vast, and alive.

Jakar and I moving through it hardly seemed to disturb the wildlife, either because of Jakar’s way of moving or because they simply weren’t scared of two strange beings like us.

It was beautiful, and I should enjoy it, especially the way the early morning light brushed across it all, making it look soft and mysterious.

Dread curled in my belly, a feeling I couldn’t shake, no matter how hard I tried.

I wasn’t sure if it was dread over returning to the Vagabond or something to do with my new, budding relationship with Jakar.

Maybe it was worry over what everyone would think if we returned and they realized I’d been screwing their favorite buddy.

They’d been warning him to give me space.

What if they were only doing that because they didn’t want him to make a mistake and wind up with someone as screwed up as me?

I’d stabbed an alien in the eye, after all.

What did that say about me? I was a psychopath for doing that.

Maybe the dread had something to do with the feeling of being watched.

I’d felt it a few times before while we were traveling, and I felt it again now.

It was hard not to imagine that someone sentient was watching us from the trees.

That it wasn’t just some alien monkey, but an actual person.

I hadn’t brought it up with Jakar because I felt so silly for even thinking it.

Jakar’s body jolted as he leaped the last bit to the ground, the breath whooshing out of me in a startled squeal at the rough landing.

I wanted to snap at him again, to tell him to warn me next time, but I bit my tongue.

The last time I’d done something like that, he’d obeyed so completely, so tenderly…

He was still doing it each time he started to climb or moved to pick me up, warning me with a teasing note in his voice.

Hmmm, maybe I should tell him. I kinda liked it when he teased me like that.

“We’ll walk from here, this way,” he said with a grin.

Then, a hand reached out behind my ear and pulled out a flower, seemingly out of thin air.

“But first, a gift for you,” he added, and he tucked the beautiful pink bloom into the strands behind my ear with tender fingers.

Damn it, Jakar, why did you have to make me melt every time?

I was still smiling like a loon when I trailed after him into the woods, blindly trusting him to have picked the right direction.

He had one of his hands around mine, his grip warm and firm, and I just let him be my guide, leading me wherever he wanted to go.

The moss was springy beneath our feet, and the air was filled with a thick, loamy scent that felt a little heavy in my lungs.