The limbs shook as if a big machine had grabbed it to shake. She held her hand out as more and more fell. “Thank you,” she hollered into the air, laughing with delight. How cool was this? Higher in the air, wind must’ve gusted for a moment, gifting them with the tree’s output.
Xenos wore a big smile on his face. He spoke and looked at her. She had a feeling of what he said—well, she knew what she would be saying at this point.
“I didn’t do anything. Just being my normal tree hugger.”
He gave her a quirky expression. “Arbohakisto?”
Her ears picked up “arbo” which happened to be very close to “arbor” which meant tree. Not only did she love losing herself in her stories, she loved using words. Big words, tiny words, strange words. Here was a whole new language for her.
Xenos scooped up a handful of acorns and pushed them through the small hole in her makeshift pouch that existed with all the material wrapped in one hand. She noted they weren’t exactly acorn-looking, but close enough.
He held two nuts in his hand then made a fist. She heard the shells cracking. Damn, that was impressive too. His fist opened, and he picked out the good pieces, laying them on his fingers. She took a few and put them on her tongue. They tasted like pecans. Those were Daphne’s favorite food. She’d be thrilled to have these.
Her shirt stretched low with an abundance of food. There seemed to be enough to feed an army, but all the bites were little.
Xenos snapped his head around, gazing into the forest. She didn’t hear or see anything out of the normal. His lips spread into a smile. He glanced at her, opening his mouth to say something, but not a word came out. Not that she’d understand anything anyway.
Then he reached up and pinched her lips together. A laugh busted them apart, and he tipped his head to the left. “You want me to be quiet?” she asked.
He nodded and took her hand again. They scurried farther into the woods, coming to a mound covered with leaves and groundcover. He pulled her down and helped her peek over the top. With a belly full of berries and nuts, she had a problem staying low. He frowned seeing her struggle.
When she saw what they were there to see, she forgot about her load. Two fur babies were playing while their mother lay in the late morning sun. They roughhoused and tumbled, looking barely old enough to walk. They were so cute, her heart hurt because she couldn’t hug them against her.
The creatures looked like a mix of the big cats—lioness, tiger, jaguar. They didn’t have stripes like a tiger, but spottier, like a jag. But the mama’s fur was a smooth tan with small splotches of dark and light color. The perfect camouflage for the environment.
Then the fur balls turned their attention to their mother. They batted at her tail that smacked them around, knocking them over when they tried to grab it, bit at her ears, and climbed onto her to jump off her back.
Wren, with one of her hands holding her T-shirt’s cargo, knelt against the grassy mound’s incline, balancing on one arm. When she wobbled, Xenos reached out to steady her, and his hand slid over her exposed lower back.
A stream of shivers coursed up and down her, making her body tremble and breath hitch. She glanced at him to see the touch had affected him just as much. His eyes were molten gold with desire. His hand stayed on her flesh, heat radiating from that spot to her legs and up her torso.
He was so close, nearer than she thought. It wouldn’t take much for her to lean forward and press her lips to his. But he had other ideas.
His palm slid across her back to cup around her other side. He pulled her down onto her side to where her body lined with his. She still held her shirt up with the food. Seemed he had the advantage with her hands unable to fight him off, if such a silly idea ever crossed her mind.
His fingers slid under her shirt and splayed over her stomach, pressing her against his hard body and cock. Fuck, his dick felt so good rubbing between her ass cheeks.
He mumbled as he placed a kiss on the side of her neck. Her body shivered in response, a zap of wanton desire streaking down