Page 15 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
Unfortunately, I had no control over my purr in the presence of an alpha pumping out pheromones. Why was he pumping out pheromones anyway? He reacted like a new alpha did when exposed to his first omega—with no control. Tin panels clattered together in a symphony of trash as I scrambled backward.
“’Kay.” He dragged his gaze away from me, grunting and moved in the direction I gestured to.
I cleared my throat. “Try searching under the thickest panels. They seem to have protected the lamar and preserved it the best.” The increased space helped, but my reaction to this human set my mind spinning. I would have to work hard to keep my distance. His summer field-scented pheromones drew me in like a magnet.
He shook his round head right and left as if to empty it, and his face turned a dark pink shade. Geo’s skin was as unprotected as a newborn youngling’s, with only the hair on top and around his chin to shield it from the sun.
A short while later, he returned with a large stack of lamar. The balls of his shoulders bulged under the weight. And once he put it down he took a long drink from his container before he removed his short-sleeved shirt from under his overalls and wrapped it around his head. My mouth watered when I stared at the dark, sweat-matted fur covering the blocky muscles of his chest. Even though he stood far enough away to keep me from going into total submission, I could scent him. My nostrils flared as I inhaled sun-warmed fields and a male not afraid of physical labor. Divine.
“What are you staring at?” he growled, sticking out his chest and sucking in a deep breath.
No matter how divine his aroma, his personality screamed alpha asshole—everything I needed to steer clear of.
Remember, he’s an ugly, angry human, the color of the paste younglings eat.
Mentally scrambling for a neutral topic, I asked, “Do all humans turn pink in the sun?”
He glanced at his bare arms and stomped over to his duffel. After rifling around, he pulled out a container and spread white paste over his reddening cheeks, nose and arms.
“Ah…” My imagination cranked into overdrive. I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth when his lotion-slick hands smoothed over his ropy forearms. Heat swamped my lower belly when his thick fingers spread the cream along his straight nose. When he rubbed back and forth over his bristly cheeks, I practically drooled.
“Happy now?”
He glanced at me, his fists squeezing open and closed before he cleared his throat and thrust the container toward me. “You want some?”
“Um…” His muscles shimmered in the sun. I coughed. “Thank you anyway, but my skin is not dry at the moment.”
“It’s sunscreen.”
“Sunscreen?”
I stacked a pile of lamar on the trailer and tried to piece together the broken translation. Sun checked out, but a screen kept flying insects out of dwellings. Flying insects were always worse at night. “Maybe tonight.”
Geo’s nose scrunched up, and he tossed the container back into the bag. “Whatever.” He turned his wide shoulders away from me and lifted an enormous steel beam, grunting before uncovering a hill of lamar. The puny human was much stronger than he appeared.
When my attempt at small talk failed, I busied myself collecting as much lamar as Lornianly possible. Many suns later, my hands ached from where therough edges had pressed into them. Not heavy, but unwieldy, the clear sheets stretched my arms to the limit and left me walking the way I did after being on a double-wide seat on a hoverbike all rotation. I massaged my palm with my thumb. Maybe the sunscreen would help.
Geo sat on the edge of the trailer, his sweat-soaked shirt wrapped around his head, summer field scent oozing. Naked shoulders on display. He sipped from his water container, and his unnerving gaze fixed on me as I approached, arms loaded with lamar.
Focus, will you. So what if he’s strong and has nice shoulders?
I stumbled over a dip in the ground, but before the lamar could fly out of my hands, Geo stood opposite me, holding the other end of the pile together. He rebalanced the load and, in turn, me. “Thanks,” I said.
Silently, he walked backward, and I walked forward until we reached the trailer, where he grasped the top sheet, unloaded it from my arms and placed it on the trailer. Then he did it again…and again. Each time he turned to grab a new sheet, his eyes caught mine, until I stood there empty-handed and empty-brained.
Geo fidgeted with the shirt he’d wrapped around his head. “You’re staring again.”
Right, yep, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. “I’ll…ah…get far away from you.” The corners of his mouth turned down while I stammered. “I-I mean…I found a good stash over there. I’ll just…” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder.
His chin lifted, and he screwed the lid shut on his water container. “Do what you gotta do.”
The archbuilder may have been an asshole, but we made a good team. By the time the sun was casting long shadows over Tern’s graveyard of remains, the hover trailer was loaded high with lamar. My half would be enough for my skylight with plenty left over for windshields. I could even put some in my dwelling. My tail danced behind me.
The archbuilder unwrapped the shirt from his head, slipped the straps of his overalls down, exposing the nearly black fur on his belly, and pulled his shirtback on. Though lazy, his gaze lit a fire in me, like the lowering sun’s rays that lengthened the shadows around us. I grabbed my traitorous tail before it swayed.
“Ready to head home, Archbuilder?”
His shoulders slumped but quickly rolled back again. “Call me Geo.” His voice, rough as gravel, slid over me. “Yeah, let’s hit the road. I need to check in with JayJay.” He inhaled another belly-sucking breath and widened his stance.
