Cosmic Castaway (Cosmic Romances #3)

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

And we’re walking.

I kept an arm around Serlotminden’s waist and shuffled awkwardly toward the cargo bay. His steps were slight and his breath was harsh. He pressed against me, arm heavy on my shoulders. His far greater weight threatened to send me tumbling to the floor, but I gritted my teeth and managed, by some miracle, to stay upright.

“You can do it,” I whispered, panting, and he paused in his step to rub his forehead against the top of my head. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I had no idea why, nor did I know why he kept doing that.

I pushed my new awareness away. Mindy was the same idiot who’d kidnapped me against my will only a few days ago, though now thoughts of his smile, how he held me, how intently he listened to me, and his inquisitiveness invaded my mind. How in the space of ten minutes had my perspective of him changed? It made no sense.

It took more time than I would’ve guessed to make the short walk, but the longer we walked, the smaller his steps grew. When we reached the cargo bay, I set the lantern on a crate and shifted Serlotminden until he faced me, then tugged him against my chest, taking more of his weight, even though my arms were shaking.

“Let your wings out,” I ordered.

Slowly, two wings burst from his back and stretched. They were the same shade of royal-purple as his scales; they each had a black talon on the bend and delicate scales along the top. They were massive, nearly stretching from wall to wall.

He groaned. “I needed that.”

Unable to stop myself, I brushed one. The leathery texture slid under my fingertips, supple and smooth. Mindy pressed against me, bringing his wing closer, so I continued my exploration, tracing the membrane, the small veins, the scales, and the sharp talon.

“I like that,” he said.

“Hmm.” I kept petting him, enjoying the soft feel.

His wings enclosed me, and warmth seeped into my bones. I moaned before I could swallow it. God, he was so warm, like my own personal space heater, which on this balls-cold planet was a fucking miracle. I crossed my arms behind him to keep him where he was, and Serlotminden placed a hand on the small of my back, fingers stretched wide.

We stayed snuggled together while he occasionally stretched his wings, neither of us in a rush to move. It was cozy. One of my hands began to wander up his spine to explore the knobs and the expanse of his hard muscles, which contracted under my touch. Serlotminden nuzzled my cheek, and my pulse spiked.

How was this happening? It was like one of the romance books I so enjoyed where the hero suddenly liked his romantic interest. But that wasn’t real. Then again… I hadn’t believed in aliens two years ago either.

Eventually, he slid his wings back into his shirt, and I stretched the blanket over him. “There.”

“Thank you.”

I placed my arms around his waist again, palm flat against his back. “What’s in the crates?”

“One has a couple of weapons, and the other has my racing…” He trailed off. “I don’t know the word.”

Probably racing junk. I nodded. “Junk.”

“Junk?” The word sounded distorted but understandable.

“Yep.”

“We can empty the bigger one and fill it with snow.”

“And we would do this, why?” That sounded like a ton of work that I didn’t want to do.

“I can melt it, so we can bathe.”

“So I do smell.”

“No.” He pressed his nose against my neck and took a deep inhale, groaning. “You smell of something… I cannot say. I do not know the words.”

“Foul.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Then no. You smell wonderful.”

He was allowed his bizarre opinion. I wouldn’t join him, but I wouldn’t stop him either. “Instead of filling a crate with snow, we should do a bowl. Much more reasonable.”

He grumbled something I didn’t understand, and I didn’t bother to question him. Mindy wouldn’t be loading or melting snow any time soon. Besides, his focus should be on healing, then fixing the computer. We needed the beacon to be operational so his boyfriend could find us. I had to get back to Vince.

“Let’s go back,” I said. “You need to eat and rest.”

“I have to check the cockpit.”

“Tomorrow. Maybe.”

“Teddy,” he said, and something in my chest clenched at him using my nickname, but I forced it away. “I need to get it working.”

“Not today,” I repeated, holding him tighter. He melted into me and moaned, making me swallow. “You need to heal.” He opened his mouth, probably to fight me, but I continued, “One thing at a time. First, you need to sleep so you can heal.”

A smile spread over his features, and Mindy cupped my cheek, thumb running over my bottom lip. My heart stopped before speeding up. That , in my opinion, wasn’t a friendly touch. He had a boyfriend, and he shouldn’t be flirting with me. Though, was he? I didn’t have any experience. I might be reading into the innocent touch now that I was randomly attracted to him.

“You take good care of me,” he said.

“Someone has to manage this fiasco.”

“I don’t know that word.”

“Mess,” I reiterated. Mindy had made a mess of this rescue, not that he’d meant to. But we needed to be smart if we were going to survive this in one piece.

“I did make a mess, but you are here and you fit.”

I blinked. I fit, where? I had no idea what he was talking about, so I said, “I suppose.”

Mindy gave me a beaming smile, squeezing me close. “I knew you knew it. You fit.”

Well, he was happy, but I had no idea what the fuck he was happy about.

Bartholomew helped me lie down, and as I was catching my breath, he slipped out of the chilly tent. I reached for him, but he either ignored or didn’t notice my grasping hand. I preferred when he stayed beside me. He fit, and he’d acknowledged it as well. We were on our way to being fantastic friends. Maybe even the closest ones ever.

Though thinking of Bartholomew as a friend bothered me for some reason.

My thoughts went back to the moments in the cargo bay. Bartholomew had been amazing to hold. The feel of his arms made me groan. And his scent? It was intoxicating, musky and strong with an earthen undertone that I wanted to roll in. He probably needed a bath, as I did, but, by the stars, I could not get enough of him.

At the thought of a bath, I fluffed the front of my shirt. I wanted to fill the entire crate with warm water for him to wash. My breath harshened at the thought of him scrubbing his skin while I watched. My cock twitched, starting to firm up.

That wasn’t a friend response. I clearly needed to suppress my desire for physical company. I didn’t want my Bartholomew to become uncomfortable with me.

The tent opened, and Bartholomew returned. He sat next to me and gave me a nutrition bar plus a couple of hydration cubes. My tail curled around his leg automatically; Bartholomew didn’t even glance at me.

My tuft tickled his ankle, and he squirmed. I tightened my hold, unwilling to let him go, even though I should. We needed to have a conversation, but what if he didn’t want what I needed? I had to touch him. A throbbing instinct deep inside me was comforted alone by his skin against my scales. But he was allowed to refuse me. I took a deep breath, strengthening my resolve. I would respect his boundaries, as impossible as that would be.

“I want to discuss permissions,” I said.

“What?” he asked, popping a hydration cube in his mouth.

“Permissions.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Drakcol discuss what touch is or is not allowed. It’s for everyone. Friends, family, lovers.”

He scooted closer to me, knees bumping my side, and hope flared in my soul. Perhaps he didn’t mind the thought of touching me. I needed to feel his skin against my scales to reassure myself he was here and safe. Maybe he required the same from me?

“You’ve touched me plenty without permission.”

“A mistake on my part,” I confessed, wincing. I had taken without permission, and that was horribly wrong. “I must say sorry.”

Bartholomew shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Can I touch you?”

“How do you mean? Like…” His cheeks flushed.

It took me a moment to parse through his words. “Ah. I didn’t mean fucking.” Some friends fucked—I had several—but I didn’t think he wanted to be fuck-friends.

He frowned, and my soul leaped. Did he want to? Did I want to? Humans had never inspired much arousal in me. Of course, both of the humans I’d met were mates of my younger brothers. Bartholomew wasn’t. He was free. Very free and very cute and sweet and a little grumpy. Maybe I wouldn’t mind being fuck-friends with him.

Vince .

The name stabbed me in the gut. He might have someone; someone he was committed to. Humans didn’t mate once like drakcol did, but some did form lifelong relationships.

“Is this okay?” I asked, squeezing his ankle with my tail.

“It’s fine.”

I took his hand, pulling it to my chest, and my soul raced from the contact. “This?”

“Yes.”

My mouth went dry. “What else is fine?”

“Well, we have to snuggle for warmth.”

“True.” We could do other things for warmth, and I was beginning to believe I would like such things. My cock twitched at the thought and desire raced through my veins. Yes, Bartholomew and I being fuck-friends would be very nice indeed.

“I don’t really care. Vince likes to hold me too. He doesn’t like being alone.”

That human again. A growl started deep in my chest. I didn’t like Bartholomew speaking of another person in that soft tone while I was the one in front of him.

I tightened my hold on him. “How can I touch you and when?”

“Detailed, aren’t you?” he asked, but continued before I could speak. “Hugging, snuggling, touching me with your tail, or holding hands is fine. Honestly, I’m cool with whatever. Well, that’s not true. Don’t grab my ass or kiss me or anything like that. You said friends, right? Well, human friends don’t do that usually, and I don’t want to. You?”

“You can touch me however, wherever, and whenever you want,” I said with complete sincerity. I wanted his fingers on me. I wanted to feel his much cooler skin on my scales. If he wanted to grab my butt, I was perfectly fine with that. I had a lovely butt, and had been told so by many of my past partners. It made sense if Bartholomew wanted to grope it. If he wanted to bite me… I ached for the feel of his teeth on my scales. I longed for his lips roving over me, telling me how much he liked me, how lovely he thought I was.

“That is a lot. Mindy, you have to have something you don’t like?”

“If we are to remain friends, then you can touch me however. I like to be touched and to touch people. If we were discussing fucking, it would be different.”

Bartholomew shrugged again. “Alright.”

He shuffled out of his trousers—or rather my trousers. I swallowed, unable to rip my gaze from him. Was he going to get naked? Right after I’d brought up fucking? Why did I want to see his bare skin so badly?

“Your clothes are more comfortable—can I wear them?”

“Yes,” I said, voice raspy. He most certainly could. I was fine with that. My clothes on his thin form made my soul pound. Bartholomew should always wear my clothes. That seemed logical. Why wouldn’t he always wear my clothes? Covered in my scent. I let out a slow breath, unable to rip my gaze from him.

Snagging a shirt and the same trousers he’d taken off, he crawled out of the tent. My head fell onto the pillow. Why was Bartholomew changing outside? It was cold out there, and more importantly, I couldn’t see him. After a moment, he clambered back in wearing a dark blue shirt and a pair of my black workout pants. He settled against me, curling close under the blanket.

I wrapped my arms around him, and he buried his head against me. I stroked his back, my fingers slipping into one of the wing slits on the shirt and brushing his smooth skin. I bit my lip to stifle a moan. By the Crystal’s light, he was soft.

Bartholomew didn’t say anything, so I continued to trace his prominent shoulder blades and the knobs of his spine. He was underweight, severely so. I had to make sure he ate enough. With his low weight and the cold, it would be a struggle to keep him warm.

I rubbed his bare, bony arm, claws dragging through the hair there. Drakcol didn’t have much hair, but humans were different. I’d never seen one naked, so I didn’t know the extent of how much hair he had, but Kalvoxrencol had painted Seth nude frequently—though my brother had mentioned humans varied in the amount of hair they grew. No matter. I loved the feel of the strands on my scales.

How had I gone my whole life without this?

“Stay close.”

He grunted. “I’m not going anywhere.”

My soul throbbed at his words. I didn’t want him to leave me. Ever. Bartholomew needed to stay right here. With me. It was logical. He fit. We fit.