That's…something I can do.
The thought fills me with excitement. I look around at the cliffs. I've seen threads of clay running through the rocks before, and I vaguely remember how to filter clay from water. It'll take a lot of trial and error, but if I can do this…I can be a benefit to the camp. I won't be a useless freeloader.
No one's accused me of being such, of course, but I feel like one. Now that we've been here a month, a lot of people are settling into tasks they're particularly good at. Raven's good with skins. Hannah handles the stored food supplies. Nadine and Penny love hunting. Some people are focusing on sewing, or cooking. I've kind of flailed at everything. But…I could do this.
The moment I decide to try pottery, I also decide I'm going to do it in secret. If no one knows what I'm up to, no one will be able to pick at me for going slowly, or doing things wrong. I know it's going to be trial and error, but if I'm also the only one that knows what I'm up to, I'll be able to tackle it at my own speed.
And if I fail…no one else needs to know how badly I suck.
I pocket the broken spoon and look at the walls of the cliffs. There's a few tiny caves here and there, tucked into the rocks. A lot of them are too small to be used for much, so I can claim one and set up a workshop. Just grab a few candles, some bowls and get to work. I'm excited. Pottery would be such a helpful thing, and I'd love the chance to show that I really do belong. That I'm worth having around. I'm sure a lot of that worry falls back from my childhood, thanks to my messed-up mother, but whatever.
I'm going to make pots for everyone, and I can hardly wait to get started. I move along the wall of the narrow canyon, looking for deposits of clay and touching rocks. I'm so focused on the idea of my new project that I forget all about my rendezvous. I forget that I'm sneaking out to meet a guy.
I forget all about A'tam until a big hand clamps down on my shoulder and scares the living daylights out of me.
Biting back a squeal, I jerk around and nearly stumble. A'tam immediately grabs me by the waist, hauling me against him, and I manage to remain upright. "You scared the shit out of me," I whisper.
"How? You knew you were coming out here to meet me." His eyes narrow. "Unless you wished to meet someone else?"
Normally I'd find his jealousy cute, but right now, I'm still thinking about pottery. "No, I was just distracted by a project. I'm going to make something."
"What?"
I just smile at him. "It's a secret. I'll tell you once I'm good at it."
He doesn't smile back. If anything, he looks kind of cranky.
It's not like A'tam at all. He's generally very easy to get along with and doesn't take life too seriously. Tonight, though, he seems agitated. His tail is flicking and there's a tense set to his shoulders. I eye him suspiciously. "Something wrong? You seem like you're in a bad mood."
"The game tonight," he says immediately. "The one with the mouth matings."
"Spin the bottle?"
A'tam shrugs, as if the name is unimportant. "Did you like it?"
Did I like the game? "I guess it was fine? I haven't played anything like that since I was a teenager." I manage a smile. "I think Tia had more fun than anyone, though. Did you enjoy it?"
"You mouth mated with R'jaal and I'rec. No, I did not enjoy it." He gives me a dark look. "I did not like that at all."
He's jealous. Maybe I should be annoyed that he's deciding to be all possessive, but secretly, it thrills me. No one's ever wanted me above all others. My father wanted nothing to do with me or my mother. My mother thought I was a constant disappointment. I was too short and solid to be a professional dancer, too clumsy, too. I looked too much like my father. I didn't have a sweet personality. I wasn't pretty enough. I don't think there was anything about me that she liked, come to think of it. The only thing she appreciated? The large child support payments my father sent her way.
But A'tam wants me. He's actually sulking because I'rec and R'jaal kissed me. R'jaal, who doesn't interest me in the slightest, and I'rec, who kissed badly, his mouth too hard on mine. Plus, I couldn't get over the sensation that he wanted to be kissing Tia, not me. So was the game fun? It wasn't terrible, and I laughed a lot, but I don't know if I'd do it again.
I do like the jealousy, though. "Did you like kissing Penny and Tia?"
He scoffs as if I've said something dumb. Doesn't let go of me, either. Just keeps holding me against him, even though I'm in no danger of tripping anymore.
"Then why did you agree to play?" I ask softly. My heart is racing in my chest, and I know the answer—I just know it—but I want to hear him say it. I want to revel in the words being said aloud.
A'tam doesn't take the bait, though. He just gazes down at me, that intense, possessive look on his face. "You know why I played."
"Because you wanted to kiss me?" I'm tired of flirting around the edges of what we want. Time to get it all out in the open. I slide my hand up his chest and to the back of his neck. "Or is there someone else that played that you have your sights on?"
His gaze dips to my mouth. "You know I want to mate my mouth with yours."
"Then why haven't you?" I tilt my head, regarding him.
For the first time, he looks flustered. His tail swishes wildly in a wide, frantic motion. "Because…I do not know how it is done."
How sweet. I put my other hand on his cheek, rubbing my knuckles along his beard. To my surprise, it's utterly soft, not bristly and hard like a human man's would be. I know I'm being all bold and grabby, but A'tam doesn't look displeased with my handsiness. If anything, he looks thrilled. "If you want kissing practice, all you had to do is ask."
He groans and pulls me closer against him. For a moment, his tail flicks against my leg, as if he wants to grab onto me with it. Just as quickly, it flicks away again. "I want to mate mouths with you."
"Kissing," I murmur. "It's called kissing." I touch him under his chin, trying to get him to lean forward, but he's too tall for me. The height disparity is far too much between us. "And I should probably stand on a rock so our faces can be level—"
Before I finish the statement, he's hauling me a foot off the ground and thumping me onto the nearest rock. My boots slip atop the icy surface, and I anchor my hands on his shoulders again, eyes wide.
Okay, he's a man of action. I can get behind that.
"Better?" he asks, and the look on his face is a mixture of anticipation and lust. "Can we mouth mate now?"
"I don't see why not." I tilt my head back. "Do you want to know all the ins and outs first or—"
Again, before I can complete what I'm saying, A'tam is into action. His mouth is on mine, hot and fierce and urgent. I make a noise of surprise, my hands tightening on his shoulders. He's not wearing a fur cloak despite the chill, and my fingers press into firm, warm skin that feels like velvet. His mouth feels incredible, too. His lips are full and soft, even if he's sliding them over mine without much skill.
All men kiss differently, though, and it's just adjusting to how he touches. I adjust under his mouth, pulling away and then pressing my lips to his in light, flirty touches. He pauses in his movements, gazing at me with dazed wonder as I nibble carefully on his lower lip, then sweep my tongue over the places that I've lightly bitten. I nip at his full mouth, taking my sweet time, as if nothing matters other than a slow, thorough exploration of A'tam's succulent mouth. It turns me on, too. I love the slight rasping of his breath, love that it hitches when I nip on his lip, love the taste of him. His tail flits against my leg again, and his hands move restlessly on my torso.