“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?”