Page 25 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
“Why do you walk in the dark if you can’t see?” The light from the doorway lit JayJay’s face enough for his giant grin to lighten the mood.
“Good fucking question,” I muttered. Half-smiling, I followed him inside.
“I was coming to see if you got lost.” JayJay moved around the shared kitchen and placed a bowl of something savory in front of me. The long table was muchtoo high for me. He glanced at his wristport. “It’s two moons. You should have returned long ago.”
Of course he was concerned—the guy was a damn saint. Time on Tern was measured in suns and moons. It had taken me weeks to adjust. There were ten sunlit hours, suns, and ten dark or moonlit hours, moons, in a rotation.
Saliva pooled in my mouth. “Thanks, JayJay, this is terrific.” I polished off a second bowl. All the while, JayJay assessed me as if his eyes had x-ray capabilities. They scanned up and down, but as far as he’d explained, the only superpowers he had were his freakishly large size and strength. His words, not mine.
All I wanted to know was whether Tino and Sully had carved out a nest in the soft soil of the dirt floor so that Makir would be comfortable for the night, but, nope, not asking. That would have violated my promise to not think about Makir. Thinking about Makir was firmly off-limits, especially when he would be in the same room as me all night.
“Since you are stubborn and want to know but aren’t going to ask, Makir’s nest has been burrowed out as you requested. He’s quite comfortable playing cards with the rest of the crew.” JayJay planted his hands on his wide hips. “Now, I must insist you shower and go straight to bed. You’ve done far too much work for the rotation.”
When JayJay launched into maternal mode, there was no messing with him. I forced my aching body out of my chair. I’d put off the inevitable for too long, so with no other choice, I headed into the shared room to gather my pajamas and toiletries.
Instantly, Makir’s eyes sought mine. The lavender lingered for a moment before they swirled to silver, and I froze in place. The other Rock Dwellers disappeared. My shirt felt suffocatingly tight as my muscles pulsed and heated.
Be normal.
“Makir,” I rasped. “Sisip came by this evening and wanted to talk to you about how you could warm her up.”
Rumbling snickers filled the room.
Makir’s brows furrowed and my nostrils flared. The room I slept in was entirely saturated with Makir’s scent. The crisp juniper and warm ginger muddled my tired mind. The low light darkened the shadows of Makir’s strong jaw. His blue mane was pulled away from his face in a damp braid, revealing the velvety tips of his ears. A growl built in my chest. The entire crew could see the tips of his ears. His tail rested casually on his knee as he sat at a table with Tino and Sully, playing cards.
“Hand warmers. She wanted to talk to you about hand warmers,” I corrected.
Makir’s tail switched against the floor.
“Getting a shower,” I muttered before I told a knock-knock joke or something equally terrible.
Makir popped up out of his chair. “About that… JayJay said it would be okay if I used your towel, so it might be a little damp.” His words rushed out, and his tail coiled around his wrist. I envied his tail and its ability to measure the thrum of his pulse the way my fingertips so urgently desired.
“S’fine,” I grumbled before I put his bundle of pelts on my bed for safekeeping and grabbed the damp towel. Tino and Sully had carved out Makir’s nest in the small space that happened to be immediately adjacent to my bunk. Assholes. On legs weakened to the point of jelly, I walked to the bathroom.
The bathroom stall was filled with his ginger and juniper odor. The towel drew me like a bull to a red cape, and I braced my forearm against the tiles before I dropped my forehead on it. “Fuck,” I swore at the wood-slatted floor.
The hot water did not remove the ache from my muscles. It agitated the itchy, tight sensation that occurred every time Makir neared. I soaped up, rinsed off and got out of the hot spray as quickly as possible. I wasn’t prepared when I reached for the towel to dry off. Makir’s scent buckled my knees.
My body shuddered, and my muscles grew tight like they might burst. That wasn’t the only thing that felt like it might burst. With the water off now, my cock stood painfully erect as I rocked from foot to foot, swathed in clouds of steam. A leisurely walk to my bed in my pajama pants with a raging boner wasnot an option. My eyes laser-focused on the towel through the mist—nothing else existed. I brought the towel up to my nose and inhaled deeply. Makir’s scent annihilated what was left of my senses, and my cock leaked.
Crisp juniper drifted from the towel, and my arm worked automatically, no longer connected to my brain. I rubbed the nubby fabric, slow and rough, over my plumped cock. The cloth wasn’t velvety enough. It wasn’t my favorite blueprint blue. But Makir’s perfume enveloped me like a hug. I smelled of Makir. It was enough for now.
I dumped shampoo into my hand, dropped my face into the towel and inhaled again, then slicked the makeshift lube down my hot length. With a firmer grip, I fisted the fabric entirely around the nest of curls at my base, our scents mixing.
My mind conjured Makir’s smooth blue hands and wrapped them around my iron-hard length. I squeezed my eyes shut. Sex-fantasy Makir worked my erection up and down. His silver eyes so close to mine that my clenched jaw was reflected in them.
I pumped my fist harder. My chin tilted toward the rough-hewn beams on the ceiling. The shower stall walls ended a couple of feet above me. If anyone came in…
Biting down on my lip, I stifled a groan as I came. The fur of his blue chest would drip with ropes of my thick cum. Panting, I leaned my shoulders against the cool tiles, then turned on the faucet to rinse away the evidence. This time I avoided Makir’s delicious aroma and dried off with my T-shirt.
“What the hell?” My pajama top buttons wouldn’t close, and my thighs stretched the seams of my pants. I did a double-take. Yep, they were my pajamas, the same ones Ginger had bought me last Christmas. The ones covered in retro Pikachu and Charizard Pokémon characters.
“Jesus, what’s happening to my body?” I groaned and added a medic visit to my list. Not sure how I could look Dr. Ten in the eyes and tactfully ask why Makir’s scent turned me into an animal or why I found my clothes three sizes too small. I walked back to the shared area filled with enormous bunk beds.
“Ungh,” Makir whined. His lavender eyes moved up and down my body from where he sat on the empty mattress across from mine. They’d been silver a moment ago in my fantasy.
My shoulders curled inward. Exposed, my muffin top hung over my pants, and my hairy chest stood on display for everyone’s eyes, but Makir’s disgust hit hard, a direct punch.
