by Holley Trent
His animal half said that his man half was a dick. His man half said that his cougar half would roll on a cactus if he thought he’d get laid. His cougar half said that his man half should be pleased his mate had the goddess’s favor. His man half was too busy feeling sorry for himself to hear it.
And he realized then that he did feel sorry for himself, and he had since he was seventeen and had had to make that choice. He’d ignored the anger and built-up resentment over it. Everything he’d done since then had been halfhearted, and that wasn’t fair for anyone, especially Miles. She’d been so kind in spite of his detachment.
Relieved to find her still in the truck, he shifted back and squatted beside her. For a while, he just looked. He couldn’t see much, and there wasn’t much of her. She was curled into a tight ball under the blanket, and only a swath of her gently curling hair, her forehead, one closed eye, and a cheek were exposed.
He nudged the blanket down to reveal her nose and sweet lips, and held his hand in front of them.
Still breathing. He had to be sure. Maybe it was the cat part of him that hadn’t believed it.
He stroked her cheek, pulling his hand away when feeling how fucking cold she was. Were-cougars didn’t get cold the same way. Their metabolisms were too fast, and their body temperatures were higher than humans’.
He hopped to the ground, rooted in the truck’s crew cab, and found a second blanket. He could take her home and put her in a real bed, but it was already so close to morning, he hated to wake her. And maybe he felt a little selfish for a change and just wanted an excuse to be close. He could say he was watching over her. It wasn’t romantic, but practicality was all he knew.
Nestling beside her, he pulled the blanket over them both and tucked her against his chest.
“Mmm,” came a small voice from inside the covers.
He kept still, figuring she was simply stirring in sleep.
“You’re warm,” she said softly, then stiffened. She patted his chest, and worked one hand out of the blankets. It felt his face, his nose, chin, lips, and pressed down to his hair. She grabbed a handful and followed it to the end. “Hank.”
“Yeah.”
“Just making sure.”
He let out a long breath. “You need to learn my scent.”
“I would need to have a Cougar’s nose to pick it up.”
She pushed her head out of her cocoon, and he watched her pupils slowly adapt to the light, dim though it was. “What time is it?”
“Why? Do you have somewhere else to be?”
“No. I’m just curious, I guess.”
“I’d guess it’s a little after six. Sun’ll be up all the way soon, and if we stay out here, we’ll roast.”
“Already roasting a little. Your body is like a space heater. I think you’d burn me if that blanket wasn’t between us.”
“Nah. You might sweat a little, though.”
“I’ll risk a little sweat if you want to touch me. To transfer your scent, I mean.”
“Oh.” Just that quickly, he’d forgotten. It had seemed such a minor consideration compared to everything else storming his brain at the time. He helped her reconfigure the blankets, and only hissed a little when she rolled and put her back to his front. She scooted back against him, insinuating herself close and tucking her ass against his crotch.
“Better?”
So much worse. His cock gave a twitch of agreement and he clamped his teeth tight. The cat part of him might have found the scenario amusing. Certainly, a cat could cuddle without hoping it’d lead to sex. He merely grunted in answer. What more could he do?
Apologize, maybe.
Wasn’t that what normal men did when they did stupid shit and realized it? He didn’t want her upset at him. For fuck’s sake, she’d just said she liked him, and he had to go botch things by accusing her of being mildly treasonous. No wonder she hadn’t shared her news before. She probably thought he’d react exactly the way he did, and that wasn’t fair for her. “Listen, Miles, I—”
“I’d go camping again if it was this comfortable,” she said.
“What?”
“Always so cold, and air mattresses aren’t great to sleep on. This is better.”
“Oh. I guess it is, moderately.”
She wriggled, burrowing against him and dissolving him of any beliefs he could hide anything. He sighed inwardly and tried not to draw attention to what his body was doing. Distraction. Maybe if he distracted her, she wouldn’t notice. He rolled his eyes at the illogical idiocy, but figured it was worth a try, anyway. He tracked his fingers to her waist, and down to her belly button, pausing there to marvel at her slight reaction to his touch. Her stomach drew in as if from the tiniest tickle with each stroke of his index finger.
“I don’t imagine you’ll be spending much more time in tents.” He pressed his palm flat to her belly and rubbed downward in slow millimeters, stopping with each minute reaction—waiting for her objection.
“I don’t think so,” she said after a minute. She hooked her foot behind his calf, which wasn’t the most overt invitation to touch he’d ever witnessed, but was certainly high up there. “I hate that we didn’t finish our list, though.”
“What list?” He fluttered his fingertips over silky curls—apparently, she hadn’t found her shorts—and lower to where her thighs came together.
“Me and the girls, we had a list. We were running down the states in reverse alphabetical order. It was a camping challenge Hannah devised. We only got as far as Utah.”
“I see. I guess you can scratch New Mexico off the list now.”
“I’ll have to go back and fill in some blanks.”
“I can take you. I mean, if you want.” His idea of camping probably wouldn’t be much fun for her, but it’d certainly satisfy that primal part of him that wanted to care for her, and away from everyone who’d watch and judge.
She drew light circles against the back of his hand and improved the angle of her head for his roving lips against the side of her face. “I finish everything I start.”
“Me, too, for the most part.”
“But you let some things go.”
“What else have people been telling you?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure, they haven’t.” He swept between her folds with his middle finger, and pulled her tighter against him on reflex when her gasp reached his ears. “Trying to squirm away from me?”
“I can’t help it. It’s sensitive.”
“So, you don’t want me to stop?”
“What do you think?” She made him cup her between her legs and held his palm there until he understood. She was so wet, so responsive—quivering with every grind of his hand, moaning with every rasp of her clit.
“I want to see you. See what I’m touching.” He didn’t wait for her response, just eased her onto her back, bundled the blankets over her, and ducked beneath them.
She laughed. “Forgot you could see in the dark.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever used the ability for this particular purpose before.”
“So I get to be your first for something, then.”
“You’re a first in more ways than you think.” He settled between her legs and for a minute, just looked at her. The sensitive fuzz on her belly; the lean, firm muscles of her thighs. Well, actually, he didn’t just look at those. He grazed his fingers up them, watching her aroused sex clench, before hooking her legs over his shoulders.
Fuck.
Any other time, he would have had his dick inside her by now. Her feel and her fertile scent were doing dangerous enough things to his brain, but to have to look at her? Damn. He usually didn’t look. He just hopped on board, closed his eyes, and rode it out.
Not this time, bud.
For one thing, there was the not-so-insignificant issue of having no protection on hand. He’d bought some just in case the first day he’d taken her to town, but that paper sack was likely buried under a pile of tools in his fucked-up li
ving room at the moment. Second, she’d said in no uncertain terms that she didn’t like being on the bottom. Who could blame her? She was tiny. And third, he just needed to do better. Not just for her, but for both of them. He didn’t have to act like a fucking animal all the time, even if he was one.
Taking a deep breath, he slipped two fingers into her, slowly breaching her and waiting for her body to give up its cues—to tell him what she wanted. He wasn’t used to figuring them out, but Cougars were nothing if not adaptable. Observant, too.
Her body told him what to do. She pulled him in, squeezed around him. Dug her heels against his back.
That seemed to be encouragement, so he did some more of that and added his thumb to the mix. He pressed against her clit gently, but backed off when she made a little yipping sound.
She reached down and put his thumb beside it, rather than on top of it. “It’s really sensitive.”
“Work up to it, you mean.”
“Sometimes you don’t have to. Sometimes I like a lot of sensation all at once, but other times it’s too intense.”
Well, he knew that feeling. Apparently the nerves worked much the same way from one sex to the other.
“Tell me what to do,” he whispered and pulled his fingers from her.
“Put those back.”
Chuckling, he complied.
“Wetting it helps ease the friction.”
There were two ways to go about that, but he’d been dying for a taste anyway, so he did what came naturally. He dipped low and flicked his tongue across the bud, then again before her body could respond. She clenched around his fingers and grabbed a fistful of his hair.
“Yes?”
She muttered some phrases under her breath that even he, with his superior Cougar hearing, couldn’t make sense of. It wasn’t so much the order of the words, but the ones she’d chosen. The phrase fluently vulgar came to mind.
“Yeah, you did say you were sensitive, didn’t you?”
“I guess you’re a quick study.”
“Most folks would disagree.”
All the same, he went back to work—if he could even call it work, because from where he was lying, it was a very nice place to be—fingering, teasing, licking…watching.
With each thrust of his fingers into her, her thigh muscles twitched. Every suckle brought flutters to her abs. Every graze of his teeth caused little spasms in her shoulders, which he could see because she’d lifted the blankets to watch him, and that somehow made it all the more erotic.
He loved seeing her pull her face into grimaces—watching her eyes roll back and her lips part when she moaned. And somehow, her pleasure was his pleasure. He wanted to suspend her in that state and make her feel so good, make her forget how fucking lousy he was at other things in his life. Important things, like trusting people, and…balancing needs with wants. He’d had too much of one and not enough of the other. He could have both. Miles could be both.
“T-touch it now,” she croaked, already positioning his hand where she wanted it. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t be able to figure it out, but he liked that she trusted him enough to tell him what she wanted. It couldn’t have been an easy thing.
“Like this?” He circled it with his thumb before setting the pad against its tip.
Her spine bowed and heels dragged up his back.
“I guess that means yes.”
He pulled his gaze from her tortured expression and focused fully on her pleasure. He thrust his fingers, licked, and fondled until her body began shuddering beneath him. As if he’d dare pull away so quickly, she held his head still until her body stopped writhing and she stopped whispering his name.
He wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but he much preferred the whispers over shouts. Or maybe it was just because it was her.
She let out a long sigh as he settled beside her and rolled her against him. He rubbed her back, massaging the knot at the base.
It was such a strange thing coming down from an orgasm that wasn’t even his own.
In a couple of minutes, she was asleep, and he lay there clutching her—understanding how perfect she was—and wondering what would happen next. Wondering how he’d put his foot in his mouth and screw things up. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.
He had no fucking idea what he was doing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Miles had always considered herself to be generally confident, in spite of her childhood hardships, but she hadn’t known what power felt like before being with Hank. It was being needed. It straightened her spine, put some pep in her step, a hum in her throat, and a smile on her lips. It made her blush. She wasn’t quite certain of what she’d done to Hank to put that tender gleam in his eyes, but if he kept it up, she might really think they were destined for more than just a business arrangement with a few pleasurable benefits.
She managed to slip away while Hank was between one task and the next. He went from truck to shower to work—lack of rest, be damned—and she hopped into Glenda’s truck and drove to town. She had obligations to folks, or at least, she felt like she did.
Energized, she ran in what seemed to be turning into her usual circuit, starting at the vet’s office. She opened the door a small crack and gave Katrine a wave. “Any news?” she whispered.
Katrine gestured for her to come in. “Other than us getting ready to blow this Popsicle stand? Nothing.”
“Oh, you all found other jobs?”
“Yep. Just waiting to get the remaining boarded animals squared away. It’s been harder than expected because some folks in town don’t want to have anything to do with the Sheehans.”
“Understandable, I guess. No idea where they are, huh?”
“Well, I can tell you Doc called to pick up his voice mail overnight. I went into his office to grab some forms and realized the red light from the phone had stopped flashing.”
“Do you know who any of the messages were from?”
“Yeah, because I’m the contact person with the company who does our phone system installation and maintenance. I have access to every in-box. Most of the messages were uninteresting. Just folks calling to check on prognoses they were waiting on for their animals or to ask him about this or that. One caught my interest, though.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It was from the company he orders drugs from. They wanted to confirm the changed delivery address for a shipment of animal tranquilizers.” Grinning, she held out the sticky note bearing the address. “Figured you’d want that.”
“Thank you!” Miles scanned it before tucking it into her purse. Washington State. They were far from home.
Katrine gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t have thought it was important unless someone had told me what to look for. See, communication is important.”
Miles sighed. “He’s getting better.”
“I hope so, but hey—you’re the one who has to live with him, not me.”
Miles shrugged. “Suits me fine.”
“I guess you know how to handle him.”
“I don’t handle him so much as try to stay ahead of his learning curve.”
“That’s all any of us can do with Cougar mates. You’ll be at the meeting Saturday? More folks might show up if you’re there.”
“Why?”
“Because you represent our interests, so we have reason to actually show up and see democracy in action. Got a little more estrogen balancing out the Foye Alpha-fest, and I’m counting Sean in that. He may seem sweetly neutral on most things, but he’s as much like his daddy as his brothers are. Since you and Ellery have their ears, maybe meetings will be more reasonable all around.”
“Hedge your bets on Ellery, not me. She doesn’t mind throwing her weight around a little when it comes to those particular Cougars.” Assuming Sean would even show up. When Miles had left the ranch, he was trying a new tactic that was slightly safer than encountering Hannah in the flesh. He’d been on his belly and s
houting into his basement window well trying to get Hannah’s attention, and she was ignoring him.
Katrine rocked back in her chair and spun her pen between her fingers. “That may be so, but from my outsider’s perspective, it seems like Ellery has changed things at the top of the glaring, which can be a full-time job in and of itself. You’re working with the Cougars on the bottom. What both of you do is important. You just have a larger constituency.”
“I think you overestimate my pull.”
“I’m not even sure you realize you have one.”
Miles would have to mull that one over.
Next, she swung past the social services agency to give Jamie’s social worker an unofficial status report about her well-being. Glenda was keeping her so busy she hadn’t had time to worry too much about her mother. When the social worker spread on a shaky grin and chuckled nervously, Miles groaned, and asked, “What?”
“We’ve been in contact with Jamie’s mother. I wouldn’t be able to tell you what she’d said if it weren’t for the fact she asked specifically about you.”
“About me? Why?”
“I don’t know. I was going to give Glenda a call to get the message to you, but since you’re here…” She ripped a piece of paper off her pad and handed it over. “That’s the facility where she’s at. She said she would only talk to you. She was really squirrelly, but made it sound like it was important. I wonder what she wanted.” She twirled her thumbs expectantly.
Miles brushed her fingers across the ragged edge of the paper.
“Careful,” Lola warned.
Miles always listened to her gut, but it was nice having some verification she was making the right choices. She cleared her throat and smiled at the woman. She wasn’t going to provide any information for her fishing expedition. “Maybe she just wants to talk about Jamie. I’m a little less busy than Glenda.”
The social worker gave a slow nod. “Okay. Just let me know if I can help.”
I hope I won’t need it.
Miles dialed the number into her cell phone as she started the short walk toward the diner. She talked her way past three gatekeepers, and finally Marta came on the line.