Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Corvak continues to hold the bowl out to me, waiting for me to eat, but I wave it away. "Not hungry. I just want to clean up."
I spend the next while scrubbing my hands with snow and then rinsing them with melted water. I wipe them with the "cleanest" fur we have, and wish we had soap. I'm trying not to think about all the germs we could be ingesting, but priorities are priorities. Now that my hands are clean, I can relax. I sit down in the spread furs near the fire, wincing when my feet give an unpleasant throb. "I'd give my left tit for a good pair of hiking boots."
He looks over at me, frowning. "Are your feet bothering you?"
"A little. I'm not trying to complain," I say, feeling defensive. "Just grousing a bit. I think I'd be able to keep up more if I had better shoes than just some furs wrapped around my feet."
I pull off the cords and furs—as always, soaked from the snow—and wince when the lines crisscrossing my feet show up bright red and unpleasant. I have to lace the furs extremely tight so they don't slide off, but it's a little painful by the end of the day. There are blisters on the sides of my feet where the cords have rubbed my foot raw, and old welts from the prior days.
Corvak makes a displeased sound when I reveal my feet. "You're hurt."
"I'm okay," I protest. "Really."
Even if they look like something from a horror flick.
He moves to my side and takes my foot in his hand, ignoring my fussing. "Let me see."
I bite back a litany of excuses and whining, all because I feel strange over him brooding over my feet. He clucks his tongue, his gaze narrowed with irritation as he examines my blisters and abrasions. "This is not good, Aidy. Why did you not speak up?" His fingers caress the sole of my foot, unfazed that my foot is probably grimy and damp-wrinkled from a day of walking. "I am supposed to take care of you, but I cannot if you do not tell me that you are in pain."
I wriggle, trying not to jerk my foot out of his grip when his fingers accidentally tickle and send heatwaves shooting straight to my groin. "What are you going to do, carry me all day?"
"Yes."
Laughter bursts from me. He doesn't laugh, and it takes me a moment to realize that he's serious. Oh. "Corvak, you can't do that."
"I don't see why not." His fingers skim over the arch of my foot.
The air leaves my lungs. I can't breathe. Can't think. My entire being is focused on the trail of his fingertip along my skin. I'm full of yearning, wanting more of this sweet gentleness…and wanting him to do more than just touch my dang foot. He explores my heel, then traces up my sole to my toes. I squirm with ticklishness again, but I don't pull my foot away. I want him to keep touching me, keep exploring me.
Keep adoring me.
"I can smell your hunger," he comments as he touches my smallest toe. "You like it when I touch you."
"I do," I agree. I'm a little embarrassed but trying not to be. Surely after we've given each other handies, the embarrassment should be put away, right? "But I'm a little surprised you can smell anything with our neighbors around."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "They are rather…pungent. And overwhelming. If someone thinks to sneak up on us, I won't smell them."
"I don't think anyone's going to sneak up." As if agreeing with me, a snow yeti gives a soft, sleepy hoot somewhere in the distance. It reminds me that they're just meters away, and we have no privacy. "But I should tell you that I'm not interested in doing anything sex-wise with an audience out there. They're too close for comfort."
"I can fix that, you know." When I give him a confused look, he makes the neck-snapping gesture again, a smirk on his face.
I laugh despite how horrible it is. "Absolutely not."
He shrugs, smiling. "You are in charge."
Am I? That's kind of nice of him to think that, considering he's the one that's doing all the hard work. "We're partners," I point out. "No one makes a decision without the other. And speaking of decisions…what's the plan now that we know it's not a supply drop?"
He stops playing with my feet and just holds them, thinking. "We are low on resources, so we will need to hunt and find more fuel for fire." He glances over at me and inclines his head towards the outside. "And a lot depends on if they are yet there in the morning."
"Something tells me they'll be there."
Corvak gives me a wry look. "I think so, too. So we must consider that they are going to accompany us, unless we do something drastic to scare them away."