Page 32 of The Weaver

Ahmya set her near-full basket on the ground, straightened, and reached back to gather her hair in her hands. Parting the strands into sections, she started weaving them into a braid.

Rekosh glanced toward Lacey, who was currently occupied with digging up some whiteroot from the jungle floor. A low trill sounded in his chest as he set down his basket.

He strode up behind Ahmya, steps silent, and gently covered her hands with his. “I will help,vi’keishi.”

Ahmya started and turned her face slightly toward him to meet his gaze. Her lips curled into a smile as she slipped her hands out from beneath his, relinquishing her hair. “I’m sure your braid will hold up better than mine.”

Lifting his mandibles, Rekosh chittered softly. He stood his spear in the ground beside himself. “Yes. You make good braids, I make the best.”

Ahmya laughed and faced forward. “You do. Thank you, Rekosh.”

“It is small thing.” He slipped his claws into her hair and combed them through the strands. Her hair was soft and silken against his fingers, but it was thick and strong despite its seeming delicacy.

Just like Ahmya herself.

Though he knew they were out in the middle of the jungle, he went slowly, carefully combing out any snags and tangles, smoothing her locks, grazing her scalp with the tips of his claws. She tilted her head back toward him with a pleased sigh and a small, contented smile upon her lips, closing her eyes.

Heat stirred behind Rekosh’s slit. He knew of kissing because of the humans—because of Ivy and Ketahn. Their lips were pliable, seemingly even softer than the rest of their skin, and he longed to feel hers against his hide. Longed to feel her kiss.

Longed to kiss her.

CHAPTER 7

Tingles coursedthrough Ahmya from her scalp all the way to her toes. Rekosh offering to braid her hair had been such a simple, kind gesture. Except his touch was anything but simple. He turned braiding her hair into a sensual act. It was soothing, intimate, and arousing. Heat kindled within her, building with every brush of his claws. And it took everything inside of Ahmya to remain still, to prevent a moan from slipping past her lips.

As he separated her hair into sections, his claws grazed the back of her neck. That hint of pleasure-pain sent a jolt through her nerves, making her nipples harden and her core clench. Ahmya drew in a sharp breath.

His fingers stilled, and he shifted closer. “Did I harm you, Ahmya?”

She opened her eyes to find him leaning beside her, his bright red eyes filled with concern.

“N-No,” she said, voice breathier than she intended. “I’m fine.”

He flattened a hand over her hair, smoothing it down. “You are sure?”

Ahmya smiled. “Just a graze. Didn’t hurt at all.”

The pad of Rekosh’s thumb stroked the back of her neck with tantalizing delicacy. Ahmya shivered, and her skin prickled in awareness. Her lips parted with a shaky breath.

To have him touch me in such a way all over…

“Good,” he rumbled.

He repositioned himself behind her and continued sectioning off her hair. Ahmya stared ahead, attempting to keep watch, to focus on anything other than the feel of his fingers working, but she couldn’t help it when her lashes drooped. Though the heat within her didn’t fade, there was something relaxing about having someone tending to her hair.

And that someone just happened to be a seven-foot-tall vrix who definitely knew how to use his hands.

A strong breeze swept around Ahmya, chilling her sweat-dampened skin and serving as a balm to the fire burning inside her. It carried all the scents of the jungle, earthy and sweet, and whispered of rain. It also flooded her senses with something more, something spicy and warm.

Rekosh.

Teak and amber with a hint of lavender.

Ahmya drew in a deep breath, allowing his scent to suffuse her. She wanted more of it.

Lacey chuckled. “I leave you two alone for a moment and you’re playing salon?”

Ahmya opened her eyes with a start. Lacey stood several feet away with her hands on her hips.

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