Page 42 of Treasure of the Abyss

Had he reached out to her before or after he fellasleep?

She moved a hand toward his tentacle, stopping only to watch his face and ensure he was still asleep. Lightly, she touched her finger to the skin on his tentacle’s underside, running it along the edges of his suction cups. His flesh was different there.Softer.

The tentacle twitched, its endcurling.

Macy grinned. He wasticklish.

With another glance to make sure he hadn’t woken, she slid her finger around the rim of a suction cup. It twitched. She released a muffledlaugh.

“Macy?”

She yanked her hand back and met his gaze. Jax had lifted his head and propped himself up on an arm, pupils large. She tried — and failed — to keep the amusement from herface.

“Good morning,” she said, biting the inside of her lip curtail hersmile.

Jax furrowed his brow and twisted to look up at the opening; the sky displayed on the earliest gray of approaching dawn. When he turned back to her, the end of his tentacle flicked back and forth. “That felt strange. What were youdoing?”

“I wasn’t doinganything.”

“I felt your touch. Tasted yourskin.”

“Youwhat?”

“Tasted you. Or smelled…perhaps both. They are the same, in manyways.”

“You cantastewith those?” She pointed at histentacle.

His eyes followed her gesture, and a smile — as amused as hers had been a moment before — spread across his lips. He shifted his position, torso upright but tentacles coiled beneath him. “With the cups,yes.”

Macy immediately thought of their first encounter, how his tentacle had slithered up between her legs, brushing her innerthigh…

She’d been shocked, then, just as she was now, but the memory kindled something more. Fire blazed in her core. Macy pressed her knees together, suddenly aware of just how short her dresswas.

Clearing her throat, Macy smiled and sat up. “Did you know they areticklish?”

“Ticklish? What isthat?”

She held out her hand. “Give me one of yourtentacles.”

He extended one and lowered it onto her waiting palm. It was heavier than she would’ve guessed. The suction cups moved against her skin, and she raised her gaze to his, arching abrow.

His smile didn’tfalter.

“So, that’s how you’re going to play.” She turned his tentacle over into her other hand and curled her fingers around it firmly. Then she ran the tip of one finger along the underside in a long, lightstroke.

The tentacle’s muscles contracted, and it naturally recoiled from her touch. Jax flinched. His pupils narrowed as he looked at her. “That was a strange sensation. Not unpleasant, but…strong.”

“Mhmm.” She repeated the motion, but this time, she didn’t let up, brushing her fingertip back and forth and wiggling her fingers against the sides of his suctioncups.

His tentacle writhed in her grasp, and she felt a shudder ran up its length and spread through his entire body. He tugged his limb out of her hold. Macy laughed, dropping herhands.

Jax shook the end of his tentacle, as though the sensation lingered, and examined its underside. “What wasthat?”

“I was tickling you. You’re ticklish. Haven’t you been tickledbefore?”

“Kraken do not often come into such contact.” His expression was questioning, but not suspicious. “Are humans alsoticklish?”

“Most are.” Macy frowned. She couldn’t imagine a child growing up without such little tastes of affection, without experiencing something as simple as being tickled. Jax had said he was brought up by a group of males, who taught him to survive and hunt, but had he ever been held, ever beensoothed?

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