When She’s Fearless – Risdaverse Read Online Ruby Dixon

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
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“You mean our noli night? That was a lot of fun.” She glances at me over her shoulder, a sultry look on her face. “Every night should be noli night.”

“Not while my brother lives with us,” I grumble, following after her. “I had to chase him out of the house, remember?”

Chelsea only laughs. “How was I supposed to know the noli scent would linger?”

She would if she thought ahead, but I only chuckle and press myself up against her when she pauses by the table. I wrap my arms around her, tucking her body against mine. “You’re lucky I’m big and strong.”

“I am lucky.” She beams up at me. “But no, tonight isn’t a noli night.”

“Thank kef. I’m going to need my senses in the morning. I’m heading up to a homestead in the hills tomorrow to help with her bot repairs. Her name’s…” I pause, thinking. Most human females blur together when they’re around my mate. “Can?”

“Anne?”

“That’s it.”

Chelsea’s lips twitch. “I’m going to laugh if you call her Can to her face.”

“I would never. I would simply refer to her as ‘human.’” I nuzzle her head, breathing in her delicious scent. Six months and I haven’t gotten tired of being around Chelsea. Six months and we still can’t keep our hands off of each other. Every day with her is an absolute keffing gift. “You know I’m polite.”

“The politest,” she agrees, and wiggles her backside against me. “Where’s your brother right now?”

“Mmm, probably courting Biba.” The female next door has a long, annoying name to go with her sour attitude. I have no idea what Jrrru sees in her.

That makes Chelsea laugh harder. “Tabitha,” she corrects. “And how is Jrrru doing with his courtship of her?”

“Poorly.” And “poorly” is an understatement. The female has made it quite clear she’s not interested in my brother, but he refuses to give up. Jrrru wants a mate for himself, and since Tabitha’s farm is next to Chelsea’s, he thinks it would be a convenient thing to have a mate nearby. The female is not impressed, though.

“Poor Tabitha, being courted only because she’s local,” Chelsea murmurs.

“That can’t be the only reason. You have another neighbor as well. I think he likes her prickly nature. Perhaps he likes the challenge.” Jrrru does love the hunt, but I don’t say that part out loud. Chelsea doesn’t like the thought of her neighbor being hunted, even if it’s a neighbor she’s not all that friendly with. I suspect it has something to do with the past that she doesn’t like to speak of. And Jrrru’s “hunt” consists of verbal sparring with the female. He would never touch her.

Though I suspect he’s marked her as his territory. He’s headed out early a few mornings this last week, and I can guess where he’s headed.

“So, yes,” I tell my mate, and cup one of her magnificent teats with my hand. “I am fixing bots for Anne tomorrow. She is paying us with meat. I hope you don’t mind.” I’ve done several mechanical jobs for the females on the neighboring farms—some air-sled fixes, some comm repairs, and a lot of bot maintenance and upgrades. Some of the humans are more tech-savvy than others, but I don’t mind the work. It makes me feel useful and I like that I can bring home some extra meat or veg. The females usually pay in goods since those are more readily available.

“Of course I don’t mind. I think it’s sweet that you’re helping out.” She leans back against me and parts her thighs, a silent invitation that I am helpless to resist. I slide my hand down the front of her leggings and cup her cunt, not surprised to find her wet and ready.

“Apparently me helping out others turns you on.” I push into her folds and find her clit, teasing the small bit of flesh between two fingers. “Look at how slick you are.”

My pretty mate whimpers, rocking against my hand. “Everything you do turns me on.”

“You want to come with me? Just in case she’s nervous?” Not all of the colonists here appreciate a praxiian showing up on their doorstep, even if they know me well. Our race has a bad reputation amongst others for our rather ruthless, battle-focused society, and I’ve taken great care to make myself as nonthreatening as possible to the locals. I wear a wedding band—a finger ornament for a specific finger that shows I’m taken—at all times. I hold hands with my mate in public (not that this is a chore). And I’ve even taken her last name as mine is mostly unpronounceable to human throats. “You don’t have to, of course. I’m just shamelessly using this as an excuse to have you with me all day.”

Chelsea works her cunt against my touch, her hips jerking and her breathing ragged. She doesn’t answer until she comes, a moan escaping her as I rub her to completion. Then she sags against me, exhausted and sated, and giggles. “The front door is still open.”


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