Page 20 of Tempting Cargo
“What is this?” she asked, voice sharp. “Your skin has a new colour.”
“It’s just a bruise. Minor bleeding under the skin. It’s not a big deal.”
“You are in pain.”
“It’s nothing.” I hovered my hand over the back of hers. “May I?”
She sucked in a breath and tilted her head to one side.
I mimicked the gesture. “This head tilt means yes, does it?”
As if frustrated to have to say it out loud, she jerked her head to the side again. “Yes.”
I resisted the temptation to tease. “If a human nods their head”—I demonstrated—“it means the same thing.”
I pressed the back of her hand, noting the streaks of darker violet there, the pattern echoing up her forearms, and stroked before trying to pinch it between my thumb and finger. “Your skin is much thicker than ours.” And so touchable, much softer than it looked.
I forced myself to let go as my dick stirred again, willing my body back under control, thinking of the gruesome injuries I’d seen, of being interrogated by the Galactic Reserve, anything to avoid an obvious, awkward boner.
“I guess it takes a lot more for your skin to damage than ours,” I said. “I promise, this is a mean-looking bruise, but it’s no cause for concern.”
She didn’t look convinced.
I flashed her the smile she seemed to like, the one that had become so easy to give her. “I’ve got medic training, so I’m qualified to say that.”
“You are a medic? I thought you were an engineer?”
I shouldn’t have flushed with happiness that she remembered, but I did. “I can do both. I’m primarily an engineer, but it comes with risks, so we’re all encouraged to do the medic training, too.”
“Huh. Muzati is our medic as well as engineer.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Is that so? Then why isn’tshehere checking me over?”
The flowing spines on her head jerked and twitched, but I tried not to stare even though I found them fascinating. They seemed to respond erratically to her mood, and I’d have loved to understand the nuances. Did she like them being stroked, like hair?
“Because I was here. And she is busy.”
“And you’re not? Surely captains have important business to attend to.”
She straightened, posture stiff. “Ensuring the wellbeing of my cargo is my business. Let me check here.” She placed gentle hands on my chest, and I couldn’t help but tense my pectorals, tense any muscle she touched, needing her to know how substantial I was, sensing that kri’ith might value or appreciate that. Maybe I was a little vain, but I hoped she would like what she touched, even though she only used perfunctory prods and presses to check for anything amiss.
“Now your legs.” She crouched down in a fluid movement belying her size, grasping one of my calves and making her way up with sure fingers, stopping at the knee before switching to the other leg. “Nothing hurts? Move your leg up and down.”
“Shohari, I’m fine. You know I’m fine.”
She looked up, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her mouth to be level with my dick. Her teeth weren’tthatsharp, were they?
Sat like this, there’d be no way to hide a reaction, and I dug my nails into my palm. “Swap places, its your turn.”
She rocked on her heels and stood, towering over me. “What do you mean?”
“I’m as much of a medic as you are. You fell. If I need checking over, so do you.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re not saying no.”
“Fine.” She jerked an officious hand upwards. “Up.”
