Fox's Quest: A Foxy Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Foxes of the Midnight Sun Book 2)

by K. R. Alexander

  The lady singer saw me. Her eyebrows leapt straight up until they nearly vanished into her soft brown hair. She gave her head a quick shake, never missing a note as she sang.

  Her voice was silken and strong. I moved and rocked with her beat and the piano as I slid along the foot of the stage.

  Someone grabbed my arm, pulling me to the side before I could hop up. I turned to him, dancing around Komu instead while he grinned.

  “Hold on. Let her finish.” He pulled me away. I twisted around him and kissed him, which made Komu cough.

  Over at the side by the wall, he gulped, blinked, took a breath, and kissed me in return. Delighted, I clung to him, moving all the time while he stepped with me, knowing the rhythm without effort, twisting together in a dance before the dance. I wrapped my arms around him. Komu did the same. His mouth and body were hot.

  I wished Mej would join us. I wished we were on the stage. Yet two was enough.

  We swayed, kissed, and waited in shadow against the wall like echoing beats of music.

  Then … a break.

  I leapt onto the stage with Komu scrambling to keep up. He pressed gold coins into the hands of the man on the piano and the singing woman—who glared so viciously I thought she might bite. She only ripped the coins from his hand, still scowling.

  I’d never seen Mej or Komu pay for anything with coins. Everyone used gold dust from leather pouches called pokes. Maybe the coins were a gift and not a payment. One way or another, the piano started again. Then, at last, we could dance.

  Chapter 19

  Komu could dance just as well as Mej. Komu, though, was excited for it, wide-eyed, following me. He became the music and twist of air with me, his body connecting with mine through motion and touch, our heartbeats one, our thoughts merged.

  We swept up the platform, taking in the lights, the whole room. We took energy of the dance hall into our spirits and mirrored it back to each other: feeding, growing, bursting from one another like the tree taking in the sun.

  I held onto him when I could, kissed him when he was near enough, or burst away and spun and twisted free when the energy was too much not to burst. Komu held on—one moment his leg along mine, his hand on my waist. Then his tongue on my ear, hand in my hair. Both hands on my face, looking into my eyes, until we were spinning again—twist, away, back. Everything a blur, an instant, as we never stopped moving, never slowed, for so much as a blink.

  We flexed, jumped, Komu twirled me, and I burst away. I would have gone straight over the edge, ready to make the leap onto a table, but he caught me, spun me again, and I found his mouth with mine, sharing his breaths. Arms around his neck, then dropping, melting away from him, leaping for the edge again.

  Around and around, taking him in, waking my soul. We would dance, dance, dance and never stop. Komu lifted me into the air, spun me, and I returned to him.

  He looked young, skinny, but he was nearly as strong as Mej and Demik. He just needed a chance to be himself, have his own dance.

  More, more, more, I told him with my eyes, my mind, my touch. Show me more. Who you are, how you feel, what you want—Komu, no one else.

  Again he kissed me, his lips finding my skin every chance he had. I wanted more of him. His whole body against mine, his heat, his excitement. No more pulling away—although the dance demanded it. I wanted only to hold on. To cling to him. Instead, touch and away, touch and away, following the dance, shivering for more, both of us reaching for the other.

  Sweat trickled down my skin, mixing with Komu’s. The building shook with thunder, a din filling my ears like the roaring of the river. Komu’s voice, the same word over and over. I couldn’t understand what he meant, kissed him, pulled him against me.

  “Bow, Summit, bow—” gasping against me. “Or curtsy…”

  Bow?

  I swept out toward the motion and roar. It was noise from human throats and hands and stomping boots making the thunder. Then Komu yanked my arm. We spun together, crashed into something heavy, fabric, tangling around us, wiping sweat from my face, then burst through.

  How could it be over? How could we stop when we had only begun?

  The hanging curtain waved and buffeted. We burst into a dark, cool corridor. I hit a wood slat wall with a sharp smack to my shoulder, dragging Komu with me. No, he was the one pushing me. No … both, pushing and pulling, dancing, fighting, embracing, all mixing as one. There was still a dance. Always.

  His tongue was in my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. I bit it. Komu yelped and bit my throat instead, shoving me into the slats until we fell over and crashed onto the dusty wood floor on our sides. Komu clambered on top of me, yanking up my skirt. I tried to get my hands under his tunic, to feel him everywhere, to finish the dance like this, truly merging our bodies.

  Little feet and shrill voices crashed in the dark hallway. Smells of flowers that were not real flowers, but much too strong rose and lavender. Sharp words in English, fear, anger.

  I scrambled back to see, pushing Komu away, and whack, a handbag smashed into his head.

  It was the short-skirted, feathered women from the stage. They were lurking back here in the dark and they attacked Komu, shouting at him. Kicking with their pointed toes, or beating him with little bags and their shoes in their hands instead of on their feet.

  Komu yelled protests, told them to stop, changing to English. But it was no good. We had to get out before they turned on both of us. Like salmon in a full river, we jostled and tore past them, dashing down the corridor to a corner, whipping around, then running, myself dragging the bruised Komu by the hand.

  We crashed into a door in the dark. There was another one to the side, both faintly rimmed in light. We could tell at a sniff and a sound which led to the outside, out behind the hotel, and which led into the gaming or dance hall, back out with the men.

  We fumbled and grappled with one another, gasping, still dancing, still twined, myself laughing when I tried to speak. “Was that their territory? I didn’t know—”

  “No—they were mad at me.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re such a dancer, Summit. I’ve never seen anyone dance like you.” Komu struggled with my skirt, feeling between my legs, rocking his hips into my hip. I felt how aroused he was, leaving me wishing for truly feeling him, touching him.

  “Mej got us—room?” I stammered, making it a question as I tried to talk around him.

  “Never, Summit—the way you dance. Where did you learn? Where did you really come from?” He jumped back in the dark, grabbing his own pocket. “I have the key. Earth Mother—I forgot.” Breathless laugh. “Upstairs now? And dance all night?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Hugging and kissing him until Komu fumbled the door open for the hotel.

  We almost fell into the room. It was so packed with games and men, spinning wheels and dealers calling above the noise and clinking tokens, no one seemed to notice us.

  We stumbled to the stairs, our dance a mess. We’d just about reached the top when I heard Mej shouting Komu’s name. He’d spotted us—sounded upset.

  I turned back, ready to tell Mej about the hidden passage, what had happened, that we were all right. Instead, Komu ran. He yanked me off my feet as he pulled my arm. I stumbled, flailed, and managed to follow at a run.

  “Komu!” Mej yelled, thundering up the stairs after us. “Where do you think—?”

  “Quick—” Komu flew up the next set of stairs, key in hand, still holding me.

  “What’s wrong?” I gasped. “He only wants to be sure we’re all right. We vanished—”

  “No he doesn’t!”

  “Doesn’t—?”

  “Komu! You bastard! That’s my room! I paid!”

  We burst through a numbered door and Komu slammed it, fumbled the skeleton key into the lock, and just had it turned when Mej bashed into the other side—yelling oaths and calling Komu all sorts of intriguing names.

  The space smelled of tobacco smoke. It was furnished with two small beds
, a chest of drawers, and a wash basin—all dark wood lit from a clear glass window with warm streaks of evening sun.

  Komu tried to turn with me, leaving the key in the lock and grabbing my face, but he tripped on my feet and we crashed to the wood floor. I was laughing—bruised my shoulder but didn’t mind as I caught his face: still in motion together, still the unending dance.

  “Summit!” Mej shouted. “Open this door!”

  Komu’s mouth covered mine, flattening me into the boards.

  “We should let him in,” I panted when I could.

  “Who already had a dance with you?” Komu was struggling to get my clothes off.

  “He did.” I opened Komu’s belt and helped him pull his tunic off over his head. We were both still wet with sweat and I curled in to lick his damp, smooth abdomen.

  “And did he invite me into a room with you two?”

  “No, he didn’t.” I found his nipples and laughed more. Why did a dog-fox have nipples? Did a male have any use for them?

  Komu was touching me everywhere in return, kissing, moving, disjointed and failing to remove clothes as he could not focus on one spot.

  “I love you so much—” A whisper, a gasp. “I can’t … no one’s ever… You didn’t have to stand up for me like that, Summit.”

  I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. I didn’t trouble over it while I grew more and more enchanted with his lean, muscular body, all long lines and sharp outlines. At the same time, a bit of me loved how he was defying Mej, reveling in that. I didn’t want to hurt Mej, didn’t want him unhappy. Yet the idea that Komu could take charge like this thrilled me so much I wished Komu had fought back a long time ago. Seasons before we’d met.

  “Summit?” Mej’s voice changed. Wheedling, sweet. “I know the key’s in the door. Come on, just open it. Komu’s stealing from me. I got the room.” He would have had a little trill and chirp in his voice if he’d been in fur.

  It was true, wasn’t it? That Mej should be with us? Hadn’t Komu proven all he needed to?

  I tumbled to my feet.

  Komu grabbed me around the waist and bore me to the bed, pulling the soft green dress off over my head as I sank back.

  “Who cleared the place out of pink bonbons for you?” Komu kissed all along my hair, my eyelids, pressing in painfully hard against my lips and teeth, biting my neck, fumbling his hands across my body, pulling away buttons and cords. “Who’s dance is this? Who’s here with you now? Who asked what you wanted more than anything?”

  “We’ll let him in sometime, though?” I panted, popping open the buttons on Komu’s trousers.

  “Sometime.”

  “Summit? I know you want to open the door,” Mej crooned. “You don’t have to do what Komu says. He’s just a kit.”

  “He’s not.” I laughed as we found ourselves in pure skin, shedding our last layers.

  Komu followed me over the bed. I pulled down his face, twisting and dancing with his tongue in my mouth like the flames of a camp fire.

  I wrapped my arms around him, as Komu also pulled me in, dragging my hips to the edge of the bed. Our bodies curled in tight, still dancing—never having broken constant motion together since we first approached the platform with the piano. Komu scrambled with his position, frantic, tugging me in. It was a rush, throwing himself into it when he pushed inside me. Finally our bodies were truly joined—as we’d seemed in the heat of our dance. I could feel us right there; still on the platform, lights, music, motion, all merged like this.

  We could face one another on sage, my legs around his hips, arms around his neck, while his body became part of mine in the middle of our dance. Then on and on, we could keep spinning, moving. Mej could be a part of us also, and Demik, swirling together as one. Each male binding his body to mine when another stepped back.

  I saw it all, living it with him, as Komu thrust his seed into me. I wanted him to stay, or Mej—wished the door was open, craved him touching me so much I trembled and grabbed for him—but he was already apart, his swollen organ shrinking. I tried to tell him to let Mej in. He was shouting at Komu again. But Komu had his mouth on me, first covering mine, then all down my skin, licking sweat from my body, caressing and kissing everywhere as he swarmed over my breasts, belly, down to my thighs and up between my legs.

  I forgot Mej while Komu touched me. Hesitant at first, he licked up the wet insides of my thighs and paused, tasting both of us, excited but uncertain.

  I opened my legs more, wriggling back across the little bed, showing he could follow. Moving slowly, watching me, Komu kept the dance going. He sank to his knees against the bed and found his way into me with his tongue. Tentative touches became more assured as I opened up, gasping with him. Again, I imagined his touches part of the active dance, the joining of our bodies working together for poetic motion in form and pleasures that consumed us both. Both—yet Komu didn’t seem to understand about that.

  He was only playing, exploring new places. Surely he knew a female wanted a climax just as a male did. But perhaps not? Or perhaps he only had no idea how to go about it, or he thought his own pleasure inside me had been enough for me as well?

  I tried to tell him, move with him. “More, Komu, here,” I panted, but it wasn’t enough.

  When would he be able to enter me as a mate again? How long did he have to wait?

  He licked across my stomach and sucked my nipples, worshipful as he explored my body, yet not giving what I needed.

  “Komu—” I sat up and kissed him. “Let Mej in.”

  “It’s us now.” He moved onto the bed with me, kissing my lips. “All night. We were here first. I’ll pay back the room.”

  “I want him. Sorry.” I embraced Komu, sliding my hands across his back and shoulders. “I love you. I want you too, Komu. Both of you. Won’t you let him in?”

  “Later. Just us now…” Nibbling, drinking in my skin, so excited to be here in this dance with me, surely he would be able to mate again soon.

  I reached to stroke him, test, but he shuddered, too sensitive. I threaded my body around his, kissing, gradually twisting away. As soon as I found my feet, I danced lightly to the door in the delightfully sunlit room.

  “Summit, no—” Suddenly alarmed, Komu sprang up to follow. He’d just reached me when I yanked open the door and Mej—who must have been leaning on it as he swore—almost fell on top of me.

  He found his feet in a flash as he lunged past me to punch Komu.

  Chapter 20

  With Mej inside, I slammed and locked the door.

  Komu crashed to the ground, yelling at me. “Why would you do that!?”

  “Mej, no—” I caught his arm in both hands.

  “You halfwit son of a mosquito, taking my room!”

  It seemed he was ready to kick Komu while he was down there but I kissed him and Mej refocused.

  “We didn’t mean to lock you out,” I told him. “We were only dancing.” I pulled him to the bed, Mej returning my kisses, ignoring Komu as the latter scrambled to his hands and knees on the floor.

  I opened the buttons on Mej’s vest while he stroked over my body, running palms and fingers down my skin with tense pressure from his own frustration.

  “I just … wanted to be with you. You don’t have to shut me out.” His tone had gone caressing, silky as rabbit fur. “I watched you…”

  “You liked our dance?” A rush of joy and affection for him bubbled up in my chest.

  “I loved it. I almost joined you two. Then you were gone and I couldn’t find you…” Speaking between kisses. “Only a glimpse and you were taking off up here. Watching you dance… You have no idea, Summit. How it feels… How much I needed you and you’d go and let Komu lock you in here…” Kissing while he undressed.

  I pulled away his vest and belt, opened his shirt buttons and trouser buttons, and helped him slide from the layers.

  Mej kept telling about our dance—how beautiful I was, going on about how I moved and looked up there, while I
kept thinking of him and Komu. Mej was supposed to be Komu’s teacher. I needed Mej to teach him something specific. But I would hurt Komu if I spelled it out. Komu was already hurt—not understanding why I would let Mej in here. He needed to understand. But not with Mej making a meal of him, teasing like he didn’t deserve the lesson.

  Could Komu learn just by watching? Later we could talk alone and maybe he would know I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings.

  I thought of this, wanting Mej to touch me, to show Komu, while Mej talked about my dancing—how magnificent I was, how beautiful.

  “…on fire watching you, Summit…” He kissed down my neck, kicking off his boots, almost naked against me. Then, it must have been my thoughts attracting him, speaking to him. For, somehow, Mej understood: “Did he touch you?” Murmuring in my hair.

  “Everywhere.” I kissed in return, stroking his chest and reaching to feel between his legs.

  “For real? He gave you real pleasure?” Mej pushed, stroking down the small of my back.

  Mej’s knowing, reading my thoughts, made me shiver. What could I say in front of Komu without hurting him?

  “He … we hadn’t really…”

  “Uh-huh.” Mej nibbled my throat. “You don’t have to be nice to him. He doesn’t know about vixens. No idea what he’s doing.”

  “No, he does. You’re vicious to him, Mej.” I kissed his lips, cupping his balls in my hand while my other was at the back of his neck. Our legs pressed the side of the bed.

  Komu, silent, remained on his knees on the floor.

  Mej’s arousal strained between us, damp and curving up against my belly, while he kept himself in check, allowing Komu to see his pride and self-control.

  “He’s no more savvy than a total fox in lust, is he?” Mej still teased, his focus all on me. “You don’t have to feel sorry for him. You have yourself to look after.”

  “He’s lovely,” I countered. “The most elegant dancer. He’s always been perfect to me.”

  “Perfect without pleasure?” Mej arched an eyebrow in polite disbelief. “Komu? You do know a female craves stimulation just like a male does?”