The Mating (Black on Black, #1)

Home > Other > The Mating (Black on Black, #1) > Page 12
The Mating (Black on Black, #1) Page 12

by BJ Cunningham


  Jared shifted into human form though it was painful as hell. He pulled a sheet over himself from the bed and looked for a phone. Damn, she didn’t have a landline in her bedroom. ‘I need to use your phone.’ He linked her and tried to summon clothes, but he was in too much pain to focus.

  Serra’s breath left in a puff when his voice sounded inside her head. “You can do this,” she muttered as she pushed herself to her feet, still staring at the window above. ‘Be there in a sec.’ she linked back, closing her eyes and making herself breathe before she went back inside.

  She was proud of herself and doing just fine until she opened the door and saw him lying there, naked with nothing but a sheet. Her temperature spiked, and she considered turning on her heel and going back out.

  No, damn it. She was a Mangus, and they were stronger than this. Clearing her throat and finger combing her hair back from her face, she moved closer and held out her phone. “I think I have some clothes in the closet that might fit you.” Gods, she didn’t mean to stare or lick her lips when her mouth went dry, but she couldn’t help herself. “I mean... Yeah. You need clothes.”

  He saw the color in her face change when she saw him. “Clothes would be nice.” He shifted under the sheet. And let his eyes drop to the floor. Jared could smell her arousal and didn’t want to play into it. He had to focus on safety and not satisfaction.

  Nodding, she pried her eyes away from him. “Right.” Gods she was an idiot. Growling at her behavior, she forced herself to turn away and open the closet, kneeling inside and searching through the bags of things that she hadn’t wrapped yet. “Thank fuck,” she whispered when she found the bag of clothes that she’d bought for Damion. When buying a gift for the man who had everything, you couldn’t go wrong with well-made jeans and one of those old school tour t-shirts that he refused to admit that he loved.

  Shaking them out, Serra eyed them doubtfully, not sure that they would fit Jared, but praying they would. Stealing herself against his scent that made her want to crawl into the bed with him instead of making it easier for him to leave, she got up and returned to the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?” She folded the clothing and laid it on the bed beside him, annoyed at how concerned she was.

  “Like I was shot, but I’ll live.” Jared looked at the clothes. Taking the jeans, he pulled them under the sheet. He carefully slipped them on and stood up. As he pulled them up, he winced at the tightness of them on his legs. He buttoned and zipped them before turning back for the t-shirt.

  “Good.” She smiled and handed him the shirt. “I’ll give you some space to make that call. You can use my car if you need it.” She felt like an awkward teenager, and it was pissing her off.

  “Thank you.” He said shrugging on the shirt.

  She headed for the door before she did or said something else stupid.

  He watched her leave and then dialed Sal. He left him a message saying they needed to speak like yesterday. Once he was finished, he sat on the bed looking at her phone screen. He wondered how many other males she talked to. Surely she had better taste in men than him.

  Serra headed for the kitchen, pulled down a glass and pushed things around inside the fridge until she found the OJ that she was looking for. Filling the glass, she leaned her elbows against the countertop and took a long drink. Should she offer him something or wait for him to come down here? Damn, could he even walk right now? She had no idea, but for that last ten minutes, they hadn’t yelled or growled at each other, and she wasn’t excited to see that change. Gods knew it would, but she sure as hell didn’t need to rush it.

  Trying to stand because the need to piss hit him, Jared growled in pain. ‘Can you ghost me to the bathroom, please.’ He linked her, feeling childish and unmanly at that moment.

  One side of Serra’s mouth curled up, and she ghosted him into the bathroom. ‘Just ignore any of my girly things. I didn’t have a chance to clean up.’ She dropped her face into her palm and tried to remember what she might have left out. ’Can I bring you anything to drink? Not now, but when you’re finished?’ She teased.

  Once in the bathroom, he pulled his jeans down and sat like a woman. “Well, this is manly.” ‘No thank you.’ He linked back, stood and flushed. He was going to ask for help when she ghosted him back to the room. He laid on the bed, his calves throbbing.

  Serra reached to check if Ozzy had hit her back and realized that Jared still had her phone. Well, crap. Gods he was going to be bored senseless if he decided to look through it. She had no idea why that made her laugh, but it did. Pouring another glass of juice, just in case he’d changed his mind, she went back up the stairs and rapped a knuckle against the door before opening it and wincing at the pain that tinged his scent with a citrus hint.

  “How are you doing?” she asked putting the extra glass on the table beside the bed, before sitting cross-legged on the far corner of the bed and sipping her juice. “If you want me to leave you alone to ache in peace, let me know.” Serra grinned and pulled one of the decorative pillows into her lap to give her something to occupy her hands.

  “It’s your home.” He handed the phone back and reached for the juice. “Here’s your phone. I should be okay by morning.”

  She nodded and stretched to open the drawer in the bedside table, pulling out the remote and putting it on the bed beside him. “Believe it or not, I want you to be comfortable.” She smiled and looked down at the pillow she was still holding. “Who shot you?”

  “I didn’t see who it was.” He said taking the remote. “I am comfortable.” Jared turned on the tv and flicked through the channels.

  “Good and that's a shame. How do we know who to kill?” She grinned, teasing as she slid her thumb over her phone to wake it and checked for a new text. Nothing. Damn it. Sighing, she stretched to put the phone on the table and laid down, shoving the pillow under her head and careful not to jostle the bed too much.

  “Their scent.” He found a movie and tried to ignore his pain while he drank his juice.

  She laughed and hid a yawn behind her hand as she watched the television. Reaching out, she traced one of the tattoos on his arm with the tips of her fingers. “I’m sorry about all of this Jared. I didn’t mean to screw up your life and I kind of feel like shit that I have.” Sighing she dropped her hand to the bed and tried to get into the movie and out of her head.

  He hushed her. “Let’s watch tv and forget what happened. We only have so much time to deal with all this.”

  Serra nodded her agreement. “Yes, please.” She smiled up at him before turning back to the television. “I am sorry, though. Gods, I panicked and turned bitch on you.” Laughing, she blushed and covered her face with her hand.

  “It’s totally fine. Promise me you won’t go anywhere alone for awhile.”

  She looked up at him, her brow wrinkling. “Why?” She had to. That was the deal she’d made with Ozzy, to draw the SOBs out.

  “Just promise. It’s a mating thing.” Jared lied.

  “If you promise not to tell Pops that I’m here...” She arched a questioning brow and hooked his pinky finger with hers. “Then we have a deal.”

  “Sure.” He agreed hoping not to have to talk to the man.

  “Then, okay. For a little while.” Serra didn’t like it, but fighting with him wasn’t how she wanted to spend the rest of the night.

  “Thanks.” He relaxed into the bed more. Jared thought about what they needed to do next.

  She grinned as he finally relaxed a little. Turning back to the tv, she pretended to watch the movie as her mind churned with everything that was going on. As bad as most of it was, she couldn’t help getting distracted by Jared’s scent and the heat of his body that was so close and yet felt like it was miles away.

  He felt tired all of a sudden, and a yawn came from him.

  She reached for her glass and took a drink, rubbing her eyes and realizing that she hadn’t slept for almost a day. Pulling another pillow from above her head, she pushed the thro
w pillow onto the floor and rolled onto her side. Maybe if she wasn’t looking at him, it would be easier to get comfortable in her skin. Ever since the hazel starburst had appeared around her pupil, she’d been on edge, and it was exhausting.

  Once he was out cold, Jared shifted back to panther form. His tail twitched a bit.

  Feeling him shift beside her when he fell asleep, she waited a few minutes, until he began to snore softly. Turning over, she stroked his fur with her fingers. It was soft against her skin. A purr rolled up the back of her throat as her eyes closed and she shifted. Cracking one eye as she felt his tail swish against her leg, Serra curled hers around it, holding it still and drifted off.

  CHAPTER 7

  Serra felt like she was surfacing after a long dive, her mind waking and drifting closer to consciousness. She didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to stay in the lush meadow, basking in the sun, naked and curled around the male whose scent made her feel a riot of things. Contentment. Lust. Warmth. Protected. Yearning. Alive. She closed her eyes tighter, willing herself back to the dream, but it was fading, impossible to hold onto like smoke through her fingers. Sighing her disappointment, she shoved her head under whatever was beside her on the bed. If she just kept her eyes closed, then maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with her fucked up life and all of the shit that waited for her. That’s it, she decided. She would hide here forever and never come out.

  Jared groaned as he woke slowly and looked around. He was still in her room. In her bed. His body ached, but not as bad as it had the night before. He lifted his head looking around. He felt his neck pop a little. Another groan came from him.

  The imagined moan made her body tense. Don’t be stupid, she told herself and then she felt the bed move. That wasn’t her, and it wasn’t her imagination! Growling, she slowly inched her head out from under what she was ninety-nine percent sure was a pillow and cracked one eye. The memories flooded her sleep-dazed mind when she saw him. Blinking and trying not to move, she watched him, thanking the Gods that he didn’t know that he’d been haunting her dreams.

  His tail twitched a bit as he realized she was trying to hide under the pillows. He got off the bed slowly and headed for the bathroom. Once there he tried to shift. He did it, but his clothes didn’t appear like they normally did. He wasn’t strong enough yet. He opened the door quickly and went inside closing the door behind him. Jared looked in the mirror to see his hair was a mess, and bruises covered his face and neck. “Well, I’m just dead sexy right now,” he said sourly. Turning the sink on, he was about to splash water on his face when the urge to throw up hit him hard. He wasn’t sure why, but he threw the toilet seat lid open and emptied his guts into it. After a few minutes he sat back on the floor his body ached, and his head throbbed.

  Playing possum, Serra watched him as he left the bed, her brow arching as he shifted into his human form. His naked human form. A purr of appreciation rolled up her throat just as he closed the door. Groaning, she turned onto her back and shifted, covering her face with her hands. It wasn’t fair. Even beat to hell, she couldn’t take her eyes off him, and the way muscles flexed under the tight tanned skin. Serra groaned again, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and ghosting on a pair of black yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. Leaning against the wall, she lifted her hand, about to rap a knuckle on the door when she heard him getting sick.

  Jared knew that should probably just leave and go to the doctors. She didn’t need this and having to deal with it, and her scent was too much for him. He reached up for the vanity to pull himself up. Shaky legged, he stood holding onto the counter. The water was still running in the sink. He dipped his hands in the water and brought them to his mouth and drank the water slowly swishing it around his mouth and then spitting it out. The taste of blood and vomit choked his tongue. “God.” He groaned looking up into the mirror. He opened the first door on the medicine cabinet and hoped she had some mouthwash or toothpaste, something to kill this taste in his mouth.

  Sighing she dropped her hand and picked at the end of the string that ran through the waist of her pants. He probably wasn’t feeling very chatty right now. Pressing her palm to the door, hoping that he was alright, Serra returned to the bed and sat, pulling her knees up to her chest. She needed coffee, and he needed something that wouldn’t irritate his stomach. She ghosted in a steaming mug and a tray, holding toast and a ginger tea that her mother had always used when she felt under the weather. Sipping from her mug, she also ghosted some sweats and an extra large t-shirt onto a hook in the bathroom. Eyeing the toast, she got some for herself too.

  Looking in the medicine cabinet, he spotted some toothpaste. He took if from the shelf and closed the mirrored door. Unscrewing the cap, he squeezed the cinnamon paste onto his finger, put the lid back on and set the tube on the counter. Putting his finger in his mouth, he brushed his teeth and tongue with it. After a few minutes, he spat into the sink and watched the reddish pink paste swirl and go down the drain. The words ‘this is your life’ popped into his head. His life had an ‘a lot of blood stains going down the drain,’ feeling.

  Jared rinsed his hands and again brought water to his mouth to rinse the taste of it away. Spitting it out, he noticed the clothes on a hook in the mirrors reflection when he stood back up. He turned off the water and turned to wipe his mouth on the hand towel she had hung up in there. He took the clothes off the hook and slipped them on. Then he left the bathroom and noticed that she was out of bed.

  Serra watched him over the rim of her mug, sipping to give herself time to run anything she might say that would piss him off or make him feel worse, through her mental filter before letting it pop out of her mouth. Slowly lowering the cup, she smiled at him and nodded toward the tray. “My Mom swears by this tea for settling your stomach.” She felt completely out of her element. This male was supposed to be her mate, and she didn’t even know how to talk to him. Serra had never censored herself before, figuring that if people were offended, then fuck them. But that attitude just made everything harder with this panther. She had no clue why she cared what he thought or if she made him feel worse, just that she did. She sighed and pushed the hair away from her face. She was pathetic. “I can get you something else, if you’d rather?”

  Jared took a seat across from her and looked at the tea and toast. Raising the tea to his lips, he sipped it. “Thank you. Anything that will keep me from doing that again would be wonderful.” As he sipped it, he tried not to stare at her face and her eyes. Her blue eyes that now held sunbursts of hazel. The words from last night started to play on a loop in his head. He let his eyes drop to the toast. He had to decide what to do. The last thing he wanted to do was tell her and have her go off. He could tell that his mate... That word made him laugh. Mate. Like that meant a fucking thing anymore. He could tell that she was the type to go off like a rocket at any signs of trouble to her family, but he couldn’t let her do that. It wasn’t in him to let a female go into a battle. Not if he could help it. Call him a sexist pig, but that’s how he felt.

  She smiled and ripped a piece of crust off her toast, chewing it as her mind churned over everything. Mated. What the fuck? She hated that she was so damn grateful that it was him. Not because it was him. She hated knowing that she was screwing up his life. He didn’t want this or her, and that was all right. She didn’t want to be mated either. The timing could not have sucked any worse than it did and Serra had no illusions about what a colossal failure she would be in the role. She wasn’t exactly a prize. She was damaged goods. Even if he didn’t know it, she did. She sighed, feeling a little self-conscious when his eyes kept meeting hers and then falling away. “How are your legs?” It seemed like an obvious and safe topic of conversation and gave her a momentary reprieve from the elephant in the room.

  He set the tea down and picked up the toast. “Sore,” he said starting to eat the toast. After a few minutes, he tried to decide what to talk about. “So this mating thing... Any thoughts?” He asked finishing off his toa
st.

  Serra coughed, choking on her toast. She took a large gulp of her coffee, trying to dislodge the chunk of dry bread and looked at him, a grin playing at the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, wrong tube.” She cleared her throat and dropped her knees to the bed, resting her elbows on them and looked up at him through the hair that fell over her eyes. “Whatever we have to do to make this the least painful for you.” She dropped her eyes to the bed. “I didn’t mean to pull you into my mess, Jared.

  He tried not to laugh. Her regret and sincerity showed in her eyes and her scent. She thought that she was a mess? Normally it would piss him off, but it was too cute. A smile crept out for a moment and then vanished. He wasn’t sure what to say. “Look we both did this, and it’s both our mess. We need to decide what to do, but I think the best thing is to accept it,” he said honestly.

  Her brow arched at the amusement that tinged his scent. She was glad he could find this funny. She was scared shitless. If this ever happened to her, she’d hoped that it would be like what her parents had, not a stranger that didn’t seem to like her most of the time. They lived for a long time, and that was a lot of years to spend being lonely. It wasn’t fair. She sipped from her cup, draining it. From his comments yesterday, he believed that she would just cock hop her way through life. That wasn’t her. That had never been her. The injustice of it irritated her temper, but since when did life being fair, matter? “Okay, then let’s do that.”

  He arched his brow. “You think I’m full of shit, don’t you?” He asked.

  She stared at him for a long moment, cupping the empty mug in her hands, her nail scraping nervously at the raised design. Finally, she shook her head no. “About this? No.” She smiled softly and closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant for that to sound bitchy. Taking a deep breath, she did something that she had never bothered to do before. She tried to explain herself and prayed it wouldn’t spiral into another argument. “I’ve never done this before, never even really thought about it. It scares the hell out of me, and when I get scared, I get bitchy. Honestly, I don’t know you well enough to know if you are full of shit or not.”

 

‹ Prev