by Zoe Chant
“I'm all messy now,” she said, a deep drowsiness coming over her. “I need to shower again.”
“Here, let me. I'll do it.”
“I think that's how all of this got started...”
He chuckled at that, a soft sound that sent a renewed shiver of pleasure straight through her body. The sweet kiss he placed at the back of her neck made her wonder if she was ever going to get clean, but then, with a surprising gentleness, he started to bathe her.
Chapter 18
Reese was familiar with some of the jokes that the other shifters had for dragons. They were greedy, they were selfish, and they were single-minded. He might be greedy, and he could be selfish, but he had never thought that single-minded applied until he met Tara.
Now though, he knew exactly what it meant as he carefully ran the clean wet washcloth over Tara's limbs and down her body. There was something at once soothing and worshipful about the act. Even after having been so recently sated, he could feel the spark of heat at the very center of him reignite as he touched her.
Tara stood quietly for him, an ease in her that hadn't been there before. When he glanced up from running the cloth down her legs and over her feet, he found her smiling at him just a little.
“What?”
“I feel like, at any moment, you're going to tell me you made a mistake.”
Reese gave her a curious look as he rose.
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Because it's all ridiculous, isn't it?” she asked, her voice soft. “Because rich, handsome — ”
“Thank you.”
“— kind men don't go rushing around to save the day for waitresses walking home. That's like something out of a movie. That's not how it works.”
Reese wanted to tell her that of course this was how it worked. He knew it was how it worked because it had worked for them. At the same time, he knew with an aching acuity that she had not grown up the way he had, with evidence of mates in her parents and her aunts and uncles, of the stories of true mates told along with those of brave dragons defeating monstrous knights. She didn't have that, so he sought after what she did have instead.
“What color's the sky on a bright sunny day?”
“Blue.”
“Where does the sun set?”
“In ... in the west.”
“Is water wet?”
“Yes? Is this a trick question?”
He laughed softly, kissing the top of her head.
“You know those answers. You didn't even have to think about them until you thought that perhaps I was playing a trick on you. That's how I know that you're my mate. I saw you backed into a corner, and you picked up anything you had to defend yourself. You were doing a good job, too. I saw that, and...”
“And?”
“And then I knew, just like you know that the sky is blue or that water is wet, that you were my mate. That this was what I had been made for.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
She was quiet, but when she finally opened her mouth to reply to that, the hotel's hot water finally gave out, and they were sprayed with cold instead. Tara jumped, nearly taking Reese off his feet, and that might have been an extremely bad situation if he hadn't gotten his balance at the last moment. He reached past her to turn off the water, briefly turned it to a concentrated hard blast for a moment, and then shut it off entirely.
“Oh my God,” yelped Tara, hopping out of the tub. She automatically handed Reese a towel and then blinked when he immediately used it to start rubbing her dry.
“You don't have to...”
“Of course I don't. You're letting me treat you as my mate, remember? This is part of it.”
“Is it?”
Reese dropped the towel over her head, starting to rub her hair dry as he thought of how to answer. He absently noticed that rather than just being bronze, her hair was threaded with red and gold as well, a beautiful autumn riot.
“I've never had a mate before,” he said quietly. “All I know is what I feel and what I want to do with you. I know it starts here.”
She lifted the edge of the towel, peeking up at him in a manner that made his heart squeeze at how adorable it was. How in the world was he meant to resist her if she kept looking at him like that?
“And where does it end?”
He hesitated. He knew from experience that Tara was certainly no coward, but he also knew how dragons sounded when they spoke of their mates. Hell, he knew what he thought of in the odd stolen moments where Tara lurked at the very edges of his view.
“It ends with you staying with me. For the rest of our lives. I show you my hoard, and I hope you find it worthy of your beauty and your grace. I make love to you until you are too satisfied to ever leave me. I keep you, not as my prize or as some cold piece of gold or treasure, but as my very heart, and as precious to me.”
She stared at him, and Reese tried to laugh.
“You hit on something when you said that when we meet our mates, we learn that sharing is caring. I would never have imagined it would be like this. I knew ... the words, I suppose, but not the actuality of it.”
“Of what?”
“Of loving you. Of wanting to give you everything so that perhaps, just perhaps you will love me in return.”
She looked stunned, taking the towel from him. She seemed to need the time to think as she wrapped the towel snugly around her body. He was momentarily disappointed that she was covering up her glorious curves, but the towel still revealed her shape, her strong legs, and her soft biteable arms, and he forced himself away from that train of thought, because now was not the time.
“Reese,” she started, and then she shook her head.
“You know how insane this all sounds, right?” she asked, and there was a plaintive note to her voice. It was like she had suddenly found herself on unstable ground, and she needed him to steady her. However, this issue wasn't one he could explain any better, let alone let go.
“I know it sounds mad to you,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “I know that this is new to you, and that you might be feeling a little ... overwhelmed right now...”
Her astonished laughter was as good as a slap.
“Overwhelmed? Are you kidding? My life's been turned upside down. Well. Not that it was the best prize in the first place, but at least I didn't have crazy cultists running after me before this.”
“You did,” Reese said. “They've been after you for a long time.”
“So have you.”
It would have been easier on him if she had shouted it angrily. Then he could have defended himself, explained again what he had been searching for and what it meant to him. When Tara said it that calmly, however, he knew she understood. He knew that in some way, her troubles, the tragedy of her life and her childhood, had dragonfire scorch marks all over it.
“I have,” he said, and she nodded, turning to and leaving him alone in the bathroom. Reese ached as if he had been hit by a truck. It took him what felt like an unusually long time to straighten up and dry himself. He was tired, he was afraid, and all he knew was that he might be losing his mate just as he had found her. He had no idea if he could survive such a thing, and his dragon couldn't understand the pain at that at all.
What's wrong? the dragon asked. What's wrong? What did we do? How do we fix it?
He had no idea.
Finally, however, he couldn't put it off any longer, and he went out into the bedroom, where his true mate waited for him.
Chapter 19
Tara felt strangely untethered from the rest of the world. She guessed that some of it must be shock and that some of it was likely exhaustion. You could only have so many shocks before it all turned into one long loud roar. She didn't hurt, exactly, but it felt a bit as if her entire body, her mind, hell, her very soul and spirit ached a little, over-strained and over-tired.
She didn't realize that she was rubbing her head and wincing a little until she realized t
hat Reese was watching her from the doorway to the bathroom. Even with everything else that was going on, she found herself appreciating the way he looked with only a white towel draped around his hips. There was something elegant about him, in the lines of his body and the grace of his form, even as he frowned at her in concern.
“What?”
“Are you all right?” he asked, and she nodded, but then when he gave her a skeptical look, she sighed.
“It's been a long couple of days. My biggest worry less than a week ago was whether I would have to empty out the grease trap at the restaurant, and now...”
She laughed helplessly, and she saw Reese wince.
“Can ... can I come and sit with you?”
She expected some kind of pep talk or perhaps a stern talking-to. After all, nothing really terrible had happened to her. He didn't need her being difficult, and —
Tara jumped when he gently smoothed her hair away from her shoulders and lightly ran his thumbs in soothing circles at the base of her neck. She started to ask what he was doing, and then some muscles that she hadn't known were knotted simply relaxed, making her moan at the sudden relief.
“Oh ... Oh, keep doing that.”
Reese chuckled.
“Want to lie down?”
Suddenly, she very much did. Tara felt like some kind of quivering gelatin dessert, and she didn't lie down on the bed as much as she simply slumped over to one side. She didn't care about the way the towel unwound from her body. She could feel Reese's eyes on her bare skin. That hint of sensuality that always seemed to lurk between them was there, but it was banked for the moment.
The only thing that she could focus on right now was Reese's hands on her skin, on the way they glided over her back and her shoulders seeming to find the tight spots as if by magic. There was something incredibly intimate about it, as if she had simply given him permission to see to her comfort and her pleasure. All she had to do was relax in his hands, and he would do the rest.
As his hands warmed her skin and released what felt like a lifetime's worth of stress and aches, Tara realized that he was singing. At first she thought that she was simply so tired that she couldn't understand him, and then it came to her that he was actually singing in a different language.
“What's that?' she asked around a yawn.
“It's Kernewek, Cornish,” he said. “I don't have much, just a few swears and a few songs my grandfather sang to us when we were kids.”
“Teach me,” Tara said, too tired to be polite. “I want to learn that.”
“Of course, Tara. Anything you like, beautiful girl.”
She thought that he might have said something more than that, but then the lack of sleep and adrenaline crash caught up with her. As she dropped off into a deep sleep, she listened to Reese's light baritone voice singing the soft foreign syllables, sweet and soft as a dream.
It felt like only a few minutes later when she sat up with a start, but then light was spilling between the blinds and Tara realized with a chill that she was alone in the room.
He's left, she thought with a strange cracking sensation in her heart. He's gone. He's done. He's tired of me, he's...
She took a deep breath, telling herself that that was foolish. He was the one who needed her, not the other way around.
Are you sure about that? jeered a soft and ugly voice in her head. Are you sure that you don't need him?
She waved the voice away, standing up angrily and reaching for her clothes. Just as she was doing so, a key rattled in the door, and without thinking, Tara hefted the bedside lamp in her hand. It wasn't an amazing weapon, but it was better than nothing.
When she saw that it was Reese in the doorway, carrying an armful of shopping bags, she sagged with relief. Then a moment later, she realized that she was utterly naked and lifting a lamp like the Statue of Liberty.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” Reese said, locking the door behind him. “I'm glad to see you were holding down the fort in my absence.”
Tara blushed a little, setting the lamp down.
“I didn't know who it was,” she said. “That was an entirely rational reaction.”
Reese smiled a little, setting the bags on the rumpled bed. She wondered if he could hear her heart beating in her chest, if he could somehow sense the relief that flooded through her. She wanted to say that it was because she had realized that it wasn't some crazed maniac crashing into her rented motel room, but that wouldn't be true.
She was only so relieved that he hadn't abandoned her, and she had no idea what in the world she was meant to do with that.
If he could sense any of the turmoil crashing through her, however, Reese gave no sign.
“Come here. I had to do the best I could, but I got us some breakfast, and I did some shopping. Guessed at the sizes, but it should be wearable at least.”
Tara was already eyeing the greasy bag with the good smells coming from it with interest, but she was distracted by the large shopping bag set next to it. Reese had already taken another bag and set it aside, pulling out jeans and T-shirts that were obviously for himself out of it. That meant that the two bags remaining were all for her. What in the world...?
It was weighty in her hand when she hefted one, and when she dumped the contents on the bed, she stared in surprise. Bra, panties, and socks, a few pairs of shoes, and a rainbow of clothes ranging from casual athletic clothing to soft dresses, jeans and shirts, a jacket, and leather gloves and more...
“What are you doing?” Tara demanded, her voice coming out thin and strained. She picked up a pair of Mary Jane flats, shaking them at Reese.
He gave her a confused look.
“The shoes should fit all right,” he ventured. “I checked the size on the ones you were wearing...”
“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “I mean, all of this. This is ... this probably cost you hundreds of dollars.”
“So?”
“So? You can't just ... you can't just do this. You can't just drop several hundred dollars on someone you just met. You don't ... you can't, I can't pay you back for it.”
“You don't get to pay me back for this.”
His calm tone brought her up short, and she stared at him. She put down the shoes because she was suddenly afraid that in her confusion and the turmoil that tore through her chest, she might suddenly throw them at him.
“What?”
Reese hesitated for a moment, and then he crossed the floor to stand in front of her. He raised his hand slowly to stroke her hair, and she realized in a delayed kind of way that he was giving her plenty of time to say no if she didn't want it. Instead, right then, she felt as if she might shake to bits if he didn't touch her, and he threaded his fingers carefully through her tangled hair before cupping her cheek in his palm.
“You said I could treat you as my mate. This is part of it. It's ... not all sex. Did you think it was?”
She shrugged, because he had said a lot of things about sharing and lives, but the sex was what she had thought of first. With sex that mind-blowing, it was pretty hard not to think about it first, in all fairness to her, but it had kept her from thinking about the rest and what it might have meant.
Apparently what it might have meant was clothes selected with an eye towards her size and care, and the irritating presence of a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away.
Reese looked at her with alarm, and suddenly he was standing in front of her, his warm hands on her shoulders.
Oh, I'm still pretty naked, she thought absently. Apparently, that's fine for Reese now ...
“Tara ... Tara, are you all right? Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why in the world should I be all freaked out about a rich handsome guy buying me things? That's dumb, right? I should just say thank you...”
Reese shrugged.
“If you want. This... This isn't something that you need to thank me for. Not unless you want to. I. I feel like I shoul
d be thanking you for letting me do this. I know it's not anything you expected, or anything that you are used to. I just...”
Tara found herself reaching for him, running her fingertips across his mouth and making him still. He stared at her, something needy in his eyes, but this time, the need had little to do with sex. This was something else, and she could sense how much he needed her to understand.
Not a power play. Not trying to buy me or tell me that I'm unacceptable. Just ... he needs this. To see to me. To give me what I want.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding decisively.
“I'm not going to pitch a fit about getting clothes that I really, really needed,” she said at last. “And ... thank you. So much, Reese.”
The smile he gave her was stunning; she was dazzled by how handsome he was when he smiled like that. There was something boyish about it, about the unfettered joy in his face. It took her breath away, and she had to swallow hard before she could speak again.
“Um, I'm going to go try these on,” she murmured. “I'll be just a second.”
Without waiting for him to reply, she grabbed the two heavy shopping bags and darted into the bathroom, only recovering her breath a little when there was a door between them.
She tried to tell herself that it was just some clothes, and given the way Reese threw his cash around, he wouldn't even notice the loss.
Tara was smart enough to know that it was more than that, however. It wasn't the clothes, or even the money. It was the glowing happiness on his face when she accepted the gifts he wanted to give her, the way he looked as if everything was suddenly right in his world.
She had spent so long being on her own, she didn't understand how one person's joy could rest so suddenly and completely with something else. What would it be like if she allowed herself to give in to the primal urge tugging at her own heart, the one that seemed to know exactly how Reese felt?
How would it feel when he left her just like everyone else did?
Chapter 20