Bronto's Revenge: 2 (Barbarian Lust) Read online

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  “Can we come back sometime?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Just as they neared the forest wall, the sound of whining animals breached her ears.

  She glanced toward the waterfall. Near the cave entrance many baby animals, partially buried in the ground, struggled to break through the dirt. Her eyes widened and she halted. “Br-Bronto?”

  She must have spoken too softly because he didn’t respond and continued walking. “Bronto?” She raced beside him and tugged him to a stop. “Look,” she said, pointing toward the babies.

  He whipped around. “What?”

  “By the cave.”

  He retraced their steps and squatted near the pond, where he examined from a short distance many brownish-gray heads with dark, beady eyes. “Unbelievable.”

  The babies made chirping sounds as their necks stretched to and fro. “What are they?” she asked in disbelief.

  “They look like baby dinosaurs.”

  She gulped. “They do? Are they tyrannosaurs?” Her voice squeaked. “Why are they growing from the soil?”

  “Some dinosaurs bury their eggs. It appears they’ve hatched.”

  “You don’t know what kind they are?”

  “No, but I bet Tyran does. If I knew whether or not they’re carnivorous I’d dig one up for him.”

  “You can’t!” she yelped. “What about its momma?”

  “I’m not going to, love. Not without knowing for sure what it is.”

  “Do you think the momma is who disrupted the camp?” Gosh, they’d fled the dinosaur and might have ended up in its home.

  “Possibly. If so, she’ll return.” He stood. “Let’s get out of here before that happens.”

  She clamped on to his hand and followed him into the forest, where he guided her along their original path.

  As they approached the cave lion she stopped. Bugs whizzed circles around its face and ears and the blood beneath its neck had traveled to a lower area of ground and formed a puddle. “Wouldn’t its fur make beautiful garments?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Wisty knows how to sew. She used to help my momma.”

  “Ivy, if you want the hide, it’s yours. I need help to drag the lion to the camp, though.”

  “I do want it.” She couldn’t contain her excitement and smiled. “I can help you.”

  He grinned. “It’s going to take more than you and me to pull a four-hundred-pound animal, I’m afraid.”

  She snuggled her cheek against his arm. “Wisty has many skills. I try to help her when she sews but my only talent is carving pictures.”

  She sensed his eyes on the top of her head as he led her away from the lion and back onto the path. “So you’re an artist,” he said.

  “No. I carve animals into ivory pallets.”

  “That is art,” he explained. “Therefore you’re an artist.”

  “Who drew the pictures of insects on your arms?”

  “They’re scorpion tattoos, engraved by a tattoo artist.”

  “They don’t wash off?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No. They were etched into my skin with a needle and permanent ink.”

  She cringed. “What’s their purpose?”

  “Personal preference. It’s a form of body art. Your sister’s jewelry craft is also an art.”

  “Then she’s an artist too?”

  “Yes.”

  Ivy sighed as she stepped over a log. “Tell me about your brothers and sisters. Do you have any?”

  “I do. I have one sister who I haven’t seen in a long time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ve been a part of the Special Forces for a long time. About nine years.”

  Her brows scrunched. “How long is a year?”

  “It’s… How old are you, Ivy?”

  “I’ve lived through twenty seasonal harvests.”

  “Each seasonal harvest is the equivalent of one year. So you’re twenty years old.”

  “Then why haven’t you seen her in such a long time?”

  “After our parents died she moved away and got married,” he said then paused to clear his throat. “I joined the Special Forces.”

  “Your parents died? How tragic.”

  “Yes, it is. My mother’s heart gave out. Shortly after, my dad’s did as well.”

  She didn’t know what she’d do if her momma died. Her father, gosh… Her eyes filled with tears but she blinked them away. Sadly he’d appeared dead long before the aliens killed him. He had existed but that was all. He used to talk to only her mom and hunted as was expected of the clan leader but when it came to his children his emotions were already gone.

  She tightened her hold on Bronto’s arm, pushing thoughts of death aside. It was too morbid to dwell on. She’d rather indulge in nice visions like sleeping in Bronto’s embrace, or of him kissing her for the first time. When would that happen? What was taking him so long?

  “Ivy?”

  She raised her head at the sound of Wisteria calling her name.

  “Ivy!”

  The amount of distress in her sister’s voice alarmed her. “Wisty?”

  “Where are you?”

  “With Bronto,” she hollered, trying to see through the evergreen and pine branches. She vaguely caught a glimpse of the outline of Wisteria’s white frock that Jade had given her a couple of days ago. “We’re almost there.”

  When Ivy and Bronto emerged from the trees she spotted Wisteria standing in Vulcan’s arms at the back side of the supply hut. She held Birmon near her chest and was toying with his spikes as she often did to expel nervous energy.

  “Where were you?” Wisteria asked. She broke from Vulcan’s embrace and ran to the forest border to greet them. “I’ve been sick with worry.”

  Bronto and Vulcan exchanged glances. “We were chased away by a cave lion when I took Ivy to the weapons shelter for cover.”

  Vulcan rubbed his chin. “Was it a shifter?”

  “No.” Bronto nudged his head over his shoulder. “It’s back there. I need help transporting it.”

  Vulcan nodded.

  “What happened with the dinosaur?” Bronto asked.

  “Was it a tyrannosaur?” Ivy blurted.

  “No,” Vulcan replied. “Tyran said it was a brachiosaur.”

  Vulcan was such a handsome man with his long, dark hair and defined features. Her sister was a lucky woman. Ivy inwardly smiled. So was she. Bronto was just as appealing. The only difference was she hadn’t stolen his heart.

  Vulcan laid a hand on Bronto’s shoulder. “It never made it into camp. It stood near the meadow but it changed its direction.”

  “There may be an infestation soon. There’s a dozen or so abandoned babies back there as well.” Bronto indicated with another nudge beyond his shoulder. “They’re climbing out of the ground. I assume they’ve just hatched.” He glanced at Ivy and Wisteria then refocused on Vulcan. “You know what we’ve got to do, Chieftain. We can’t risk the species capturing them for experimentation.”

  Vulcan again nodded. “Unfortunately I do.”

  Bronto sidestepped around him. “We’re going to eat something. Would you like to join us?”

  “We’ve already eaten but we’ll sit for a while,” Vulcan replied as he led Wisteria away by the arm. “I need to grab a few supplies first.”

  Jade stood near Rocko by the stone table and she smiled and grabbed a couple of bowls when they approached. Grunt sat by the fire, carving a spear from a long stick. His eyes rolled upward and his gaze absorbed every portion of Ivy.

  Bronto’s arm slid around her lower back. Although he said nothing his possessive hold said a lot. She was certain Grunt understood because he stood, stuck the spear into the ground then strode toward the huts.

  She sat in his empty seat, bending her legs to the side, then watched Bronto fill two bowls with grains. He then stopped at the end of the table, sprinkled them with red and blue berries
then removed his furs, revealing chest muscles and a defined belly.

  She swallowed while her gaze followed the contours to where they disappeared beneath his loincloth. A leather loincloth bulging in the front. She swallowed again. Harder. And turned away. She knew what a man’s organ looked like. She’d seen one of her clansmen’s when he’d relieved himself in the bushes. She’d also seen it grow long and stiff when he’d stroked it. She hadn’t meant to spy but it intrigued her to watch. He’d moved his hips back and forth at the speed of his hand until he groaned and something spurted from the tip. She never told anyone, not even Wisty, because she was too embarrassed.

  But imagining Bronto touching himself in such a way caused a tingly reaction in her private area she couldn’t contain.

  “Are you all right, Ivy?” Bronto asked, offering her a bowl.

  She glanced upward, nodded and accepted the grains, noticing her hands trembled.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Her gaze followed him as he sat down, crossing his legs. When his knee brushed her thigh, her belly fluttered and warmth bathed her insides.

  “Your face is flushed.”

  She shifted her eyes to the burning embers in the fire pit and straightened her lower garment at her waist. “I’m okay.”

  She sighed in relief when Wisteria and Vulcan sat down. She needed the distraction because Bronto’s closeness caused many internal reactions. If her face had already turned red she feared she couldn’t contain all of the symptoms.

  “Ack.” Birmon waddled between her and her sister, shook then tucked himself beneath his wings.

  Wisteria spun toward Ivy, holding something shiny between her fingers. This,” she said, raising the object for Ivy to see, “is a tweezers.” She pinched them open and closed. “And this,” she held up her opposite hand, exposing another shiny object no thicker than a strand of wheat, “is a real needle. And I think we’re about to perform sur-ger-ry.” She glanced at Vulcan. “Is that how you say it?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Yes, sweetheart.”

  Had Ivy not known how much Vulcan loved Wisteria, his expression would’ve just revealed his feelings. It was more powerful than words.

  Ivy scrunched her nose while looking at both items. “What are they for?”

  Wisteria flipped her hand over in front of Ivy, her palm facing the sky. “To remove my splinters.”

  Ivy placed her hand beneath Wisteria’s and studied three raised, reddish-white bumps. “Those are blisters.”

  “The splinters are inside,” Wisteria explained. “You can’t see them. We have to dig them out.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  “The wood we cut from the trees.” Wisteria glanced to the side and addressed Vulcan. “Now what should I do?”

  “Just keep talking to your sister and give me your hand.”

  Ivy wished they could talk but what she wanted to talk about, the men couldn’t hear. She had a lot of questions about making love. How to, first of all. The more time she spent with Bronto, the more curious she became. It was getting harder and harder to sit near him without having wandering thoughts. She couldn’t even control the moisture dripping between her thighs in the presence of her sister and Vulcan.

  “Ouch,” Wisteria shrieked.

  Vulcan rubbed her wrist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “Ivy, tell your sister about the beautiful place we found today,” Bronto chimed in.

  “It was beautiful, Wisty,” Ivy began, “more beautiful than the yellow—”

  “Oww.” Wisteria jumped and tried yanking her hand free but Vulcan tightened his grip. “Give me the needle,” she begged, wiggling her fingers. “I’ll do it.”

  “I’ve already got one out,” Vulcan stated. “It’s right here.” He held up the tweezers. A long, thin piece of wood dangled from the tips. “Sometimes they feel worse coming out than they do going in.”

  “Do I have any skin left?” Wisteria grumbled.

  Vulcan smiled and shook his head. “I barely pricked the skin. What hurt is when I pulled it out.”

  “See, I told you pulling out hurts,” Wisteria declared. Her eyes widened to the size of a melon, her cheeks turned a dark shade of red and she slapped a hand over her mouth, appearing to realize she’d said something she shouldn’t have.

  Vulcan clamped his lips shut and his shoulders jerked. Bronto’s eyes rolled upward and he stared as if saying, “I can’t believe she just said that.”

  Vulcan laughed and shrugged. “What can I say?”

  Bronto shook his head, grinning ear to ear.

  Obviously Ivy had no clue what was going on. A personal joke maybe? “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Wisteria said quickly as if to shush her.

  Vulcan winked. “Well, sweetheart, I promise not to hurt you later.”

  What! Ivy gasped and glared at Vulcan. “Why would you hurt my sister?”

  Bronto patted Ivy’s knee. “Calm down, love.”

  “Rest assured, Ivy,” Vulcan intervened, “I’ve not once laid a hand on her.”

  Ivy huffed, crossing her arms at her waist. “Then what are you talking about?”

  “He’s playing,” Wisteria confessed.

  “It surely does not sound like fun.”

  After a quick glance at Bronto, then Vulcan, Wisteria rested her gaze on Ivy and sighed. “He’s referring to making love.”

  Yeah, that made her feel better. “You told me it barely hurt.”

  Wisteria’s mouth dropped. She snapped it closed. “Yes, I…” She fidgeted with the hem of her frock and sighed. “It doesn’t.”

  “Then what is Vulcan talking about?”

  Bronto snickered.

  “Yes, please do tell her what I’m talking about,” Vulcan insisted.

  Wisteria sighed again. Louder. “Ivy, when you love someone…” She paused. “This is not the right place or time for this discussion.”

  “I think the timing and placement is perfect,” Vulcan disagreed. “Don’t you, Bronto?” he goaded.

  “Definitely,” Bronto replied.

  Ivy folded her lips to stifle laughter when Wisteria snarled at Vulcan. “Ivy, when you love someone,” she repeated, “you crave their touch.” Though she spoke to Ivy, she continued snarling at Vulcan. “Sometimes you feel as if you can’t get enough. And sometimes, when you’re consuming them and feeding your desire, it hurts when they pull away.”

  That was it? Ivy had already experienced those feelings many times when she and Bronto parted for the night. “Thanks, Wisty. I get it now.” She loved being with Bronto. She also loved the way he’d touched her face and stroked the skin beneath her eye this morning. And his smile. She truly loved his bright smile. There wasn’t a thing she’d change about him. Nothing.

  She knew what a special man she’d encountered the day he’d cut her loose from Sledge’s bindings and massaged the stiffness from her wrists and shoulders. With Wisty as an exception, no one ever treated Ivy with that type of kindness. No one. Not her father or brothers. Not even her momma.

  He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen but he reeked of danger. A dark shadow of facial hair defined his features. His ebony eyes were cutting yet expressive and his black brows and hair added power and strength to his appearance. A man of darkness.

  Had she not met him on favorable terms she would’ve been frightened by his presence alone. She didn’t know how Wisty survived her fears. She’d been terrified when the Barbarians took her from her home. What a scary situation for a woman to endure. Everyone feared the Barbarians and when they rode off with Wisty, Ivy wanted to die. That night she couldn’t imagine the terror or torture her sister was forced to endure.

  Bronto captured her gaze and smiled right before he stood. “I’m going to gather some men and retrieve that cave lion.”

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Vulcan said.

  “Can I come with you too?” Ivy asked.

  “Absolute
ly.” Bronto smiled and offered his hand. When she slid her palm against it her insides shivered. “Bronto?”

  “Yes?”

  Why haven’t you kissed me yet? She lowered her eyes to the ground. “Never mind.”

  Chapter Four

  Ivy threw another hunk of wood into the fire and scooted closer for warmth. She could not shake the chills no matter what she tried. Two furs were draped over her shoulders but they failed to provide enough heat to stop her shivers. Neither did the one-piece frock Jade had given her to wear.

  The freezing began after she and Bronto wandered off for a bath shortly after they’d returned with the cave lion then started chopping down trees for wood to reinforce the huts. Well, since he had chopped—she’d watched. The water was so cold he said her lips had turned blue. Blue lips. That didn’t make a very pretty visual.

  The hut flap swooshed open and he stepped inside, carrying a clay cup. The firelight cast an orange glow over a portion of his body. The other portion remained hidden in the darkness. Half man, half shadow, he inched forward, gazing at her from his one visible eye. He represented power and strength and carried himself with so much pride her breath caught.

  “Try this, love, but be careful, it’s hot.” He grimaced as he handed her the cup. Steam rose from the contents and disappeared into the air.

  It immediately warmed her hands but she was no longer concerned with finding warmth, for his grimace indicated pain. She set the cup down near the fire-pit border. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Overexertion.” He smiled while clasping the back of his neck and very slowly tilted his head side to side. “The ax got the best of me.”

  She reached for his hand. “Come here. Sit down.”

  After he lowered himself to the hide she scooted behind him on her knees and sat back on her haunches. And then she froze at the sight of his wide, bare shoulders glowing in the firelight. She’d do anything for a chance to run her hands all over his body but this wasn’t the chance. He was uncomfortable and she needed to fix his pain.