Page 14 of Summoning the Orc

Which he most certainly did not.

Even if he was the epitome of everything I could ever hope for in an orcish mate, he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted. I side-eyed him while typing out a message to my best friend.

Becca:Mayday. Kidnapping orc on the loose. 1 best friend abducted. Send resources.

Pen:Does that mean that you need help or that you need orc-sized condoms?

Heat rose in my cheeks and I smacked away another wandering hand from Rok. Now that he was no longer occupied with my phone, he was back to trying to cop a feel of my breasts.

Males.

Becca:HELP, you dickmatized hussy!

Pen:Based on how growly called youhis mate, I’d say you’re the one who should be dickmatized right now. Am I going to walk in on you naked like I did that one time we decided to never talk about again?

Becca:THIS IS TALKING ABOUT IT!

Pen:*eyeroll emoji* How did you meet a random orc who only speaks orcish, anyway? I’m still learning, but he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here.

Becca:I’ll explain when you get here.

Pen:That bad, huh?

She has no idea.

I put my phone away and eyed Rok where he was standingway too closeto me, his eyes zoned in on my breasts, his tongue swiping out to wet his lower lip.

Holy shit. I’m going to overheat.

“Rok,” I said, and his rapt gaze snapped to mine. A smile curved his lips and his handsome face became even more so. I barely held in a swoon, pressing my fingers to my chest again. His eyes dropped there, sharpening with interest and a low purr started in his throat.

I didn’t know him very well, but I could imagine what that purr meant.

Be a good girl. Show me your breasts.

The urge to do just that told me that there was something more happening here than I understood. I wasn’t very shy or anything, but it took me some time to build up my comfort-level with asexual partner. This was ridiculous. The only thing I knew about him was that he was a walking, orcish-speaking temptation named Rok.

I shouldn’t be wanting to toss my inhibitions to the sidelines and strip for him. Yet here I was, wondering what would happen if I flashed my breasts at him since he was so interested in them.

Tipping my chin up and girding my self-control, I cleared my throat before saying, “You can’t keep touching me.”

He tilted his head to the side, the intelligent gleam in his eyes telling me that he was trying to work out what I was trying to say. I waved my hands over my breasts and then shook my head.

“No touching,” I sounded out, and a low growl left his chest as he narrowed his eyes.

A rough bark of words left him and I almost jumped out of my skin. He softened his stance right away, speaking again in gentler words. It sounded cajoling, as if he was trying to make me see reason.

My lips twitched with amusement. Was he trying to convince me that hedidin fact need to keep touching my breasts?

“My friends are going to be here soon and they’ll be able to translate,” I told him, taking the time to admire him in the firelight. It brought out the flecks in gold in his brown eyes.

I swallowed hard as he reached out toward me, the intensity of his gaze setting off the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. Instead of going for my breast again, he slid one huge finger down the side of my face, his gaze softening as he murmured again in orcish.

Gods, to know what he’s saying.

“Becca,” he sounded out, his lips quirking again. “Am’osh,” he continued, tracing that finger over my chin.

I felt my brow furrow as he stared at me. Was he waiting for something? Remembering the word he’d said, I repeated it. “Am’osh?”

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