Bronto's Revenge (Barbarian Lust, #2)(13)

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.