Page 18 of Invasive Species
The last is an exhalation as I pull her into my arms and wrench her out of the water. Her skin covering is black asspace, slippery yet soft under my fingers. Her face twists into a scowl as I deposit her on the side and push myself out, barking, “How long have you been in the water?”
“I dunno, like ten minutes? Is there a problem?”
Sitting back on my heels, I take stock. She's not shaking, she’s fully lucid but, right now, not smiling. That's unusual for her.
She wrings out her hair. “Wait. Were you… worried about me?”
“I… Humans… It's cold, and…” I trail off under her stare, all my medical knowledge fleeing before her intense scrutiny.
And then her smile returns, ten times more radiant than ever before. “You are. You're worried about me.”
“I… I…” I have no response.
“You're going pink on the edges there.” She winks, tapping her own too-washed-out cheeks. Little brown speckles dot her nose, like stars.
I glance down at my scales. My bright emergency emerald color dims, replaced by pale yellow-green and, yes, a swirl of pink. A pink which matches the shade of her lips.
My chest tightens, throat aching as if that same collar tightens around my neck. No. It can't be.
I hide how my scales have changed color to match her behind my back. It's not evidence of mate binding; that's a myth, it isn't real. My body can't be forging a connection, and I certainly can't be mate binding to her. Just because she makes me feel something beyond fear and distaste when I look at her doesn't mean I'm…attracted to her.
She gets to her feet, dripping. “You don't need to worry about me; I've been cold swimming since I was a teenager. February is a tiny bit early, but it's kind of warm this year.” She takes a deep breath, throwing her shoulders back, her hair a wet ribbon tangling in the wind.
“Although… it's probably best to ease in slowly. And… I suppose I should have told you where I was, in case of an accident.” She bites her lip. “It's just… well, I don't want to bother you.”
“Always bother me if it's for your safety,” I instruct, then hesitate. Will she think that's an order?
Instead of being angry with me, she grins as she twists the fabric around on her head. “Maybe one day we'll have a race.”
I flex my hands, hearts drumming. It feels like an invitation, not an order. “Perhaps. If you want.”
“I do, but it’s up to you.”
So confusing. Am I truly allowed to express myself around her?
Reaching around her back, she grabs a long cord behind her and pulls. Her new skin parts with a hissing sound, each side separating, and she tugs and pulls it free. Underneath, she wears tight fitted clothing baring all her curves to me: the rise of her chest, with twin perfect mounds, her strong shoulders, nipped in waist and hips. As she rolls the fabric down her thighs, she bends low, backside presented to me.
And I can’t breathe. Gripping onto my hands behind my back, I force myself to take deep and even breaths through my nose. Her scent coats my tongue, salt and cinnamon, warm and sweet, lacing into my brain like a drug.
I dig my fingernails into my scales. How is she doing this to me?
Diving for the pile of clothing, she throws on her thicker coverings and slides her tiny delicate feet into fluffy boots with a sigh. “Ah, that’s better.”
“Are you cold?” I fire up my core, pushing out heat around me.
“Mm, a little. My drysuit keeps me warm enough during a swim.” She rolls up the black fabric, then glances at me.
Me, staring at her.
I look down quickly. “What… what material is that?”
“Oh, this is a drysuit. Keeps me warm during winter swimming, but also bone dry.” She hands it to me. I turn over the thick spongy folds, stroking a rubber layer on the outside.
“This material could be helpful for Arture,” I muse, my brain finally getting back on mission.
“Ooh, yeah. For swimming?”
“For day to day. His mechanics need regular maintenance, which we can’t perform here. I might be able to replicate what he needs, but I… I can’t access Olorian records anymore to treat him if he needs it. I need to study how his arm works and fits together, and I’d rather preserve as much as I can than be faced with an emergency.”
