She stepped back, then looked up, and up, and up, to see his handsome bearded face glowering at her. He looked super imposing, but once Tu got over her shock at running into him, she just looked up at him and smiled.
"Do you plan to work here every afternoon?" he asked.
"Until school starts again, yes." She folded her arms across her chest, deliberately making her boobs squish together, the better to torture him. A muscle jerked in his jaw.
She got as close to him as she could without actually touching him. So close she could feel his body heat. So close she could smell the scent of his musk. So close the rhythm of his jaw clenching picked up, and she vaguely wondered if he might be grinding his molars to powder doing that.
"How about you? I thought you had a business to run? Though, it's nice to see you making time to volunteer," she said. Thanks to Mitch's superhuman visual field, she couldn't tell whether he was looking at her chest, or not. She thought he must be. She adjusted her arms again to make her boobs jiggle a little and watched his reaction.
The jaw wasn't ticking anymore. It was just clenched. He swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed. She couldn't tear her eyes away. The man had a fucking sexy Adam's apple, for crying out loud. She was supposed to be teasing him, but being this close to him was making her hot.
"My mentor thinks it's a good idea," Mitch said through clenched teeth. He was as still as a statue. “Not here, specifically. Just volunteering in general.”
"What do you think, Mitch?"
He wet his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and she could actually hear the dry click of his throat. She was about ready to climb him like an Adam’s apple tree, she was so turned on.
Mitch had been avoiding eye contact since she'd gotten close to him.
"Do you mind looking at me when I'm talking to you?" she asked him, her voice low and raspy.
He reluctantly put his eyes on her. His eyelashes fluttered as he took in her features. She raised a hand and held it just over his chest, over his heart, like the first time he'd kissed her. But she didn't place her hand on him. She wanted him to choose her. She wanted him to go all caveman on her because he couldn't bear another moment without touching her.
His warm breath fanned over her face. He was breathing heavily, almost panting. She looked at his sides and notice he was clenching his fists. He was very close to losing control.
She parted her lips to say something, and that's when he broke.
He snatched her up in a blink and hoisted her up with one hand, and instinctively, her legs went around his waist. With his other hand, he cupped the back of her head, pulled her face to his, and crushed his lips over hers, his tongue invading her mouth.
He carried her into the back room, shut the door behind them, and bent down with her so that her hand was close to the doorknob.
"Lock it," he ordered. She obeyed.
The back room led to a loading dock where furniture donations were received. This area was filled with bed frames, desks, dressers and other assorted odds and ends. Mitch carried her past the rows of furniture, then stopped in front of a dresser that had been painted Pepto-Bismol pink.
He plopped her on her ass on the pink dresser. "Wait here."
Tu looked around at the sea of cast-off furniture and Mitch's retreating back. And backside.
He returned carrying a bundle of blankets. He lifted her up, draped the blankets on the dresser, and set her back down. Then he unzipped his fly, took out his cock, and stroked it.
This is a bad idea, Tu thought.
She knew she shouldn't be doing this. He had rejected her. She should have more pride.
All fine points, all of which were difficult to commit to when faced with the sight of him, so long and thick. He was so engorged that the mushroom shaped head was practically purple, and a droplet of pre-cum glistened at the tip. Tu stared at his beautiful dick, licking her lips. Tu’s arousal caused blood to flood at the apex of her thighs. Her pussy swelled and moistened just from looking at him.
"Strip," he commanded her. His green eyes were intent, the color so pale it was almost translucent. Tu hesitated. She had just been through a breakup cycle involving pints of ice cream, crying at romantic movies, and a drunken girls’ night out in Dallas—including the follow up hangover. Did she really want to potentially put herself through that again?
Mitch stroked himself with his eyes on her as she pondered her decision. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. He canted his head at her and raised an eyebrow as if to say "did I stutter?"
Maybe if she kept fucking him, he would come to realize he wanted her in his life again, she mused. Maybe he'd give them a real chance. Plus, well, she loved the way he fucked her. Tu had made her decision.
Tu had worn leggings that day. She lifted one butt cheek and began to peel down the leg of her pants on that side. Then she needed to remove her ballet style flat shoe to get the stretchy fabric over her foot.
Mitch had had enough of waiting. Just as she started the process on the other leg, he stepped forward and roughly set her on her knees on top of the dresser.
"You're taking too long," he said before securing her arms behind her, together at the elbows, with one giant hand holding them. With the other hand, he probed at her bottom and pushed her thong underwear to the side.
"Fuck, Tu, you're dripping wet," he said, right before he plunged into her.
Tu let out a startled cry of pleasure at the contact. Mitch wasted no time on niceties, and simply started pumping into her hard, gripping her hip with one hand and using the other to hold her arms, effectively pinning her in place.
He knew she loved it, loved the feeling of helplessness as he pinned her, the slight pain of his entry forcing her to open wide for him, the safety she found in his hold. She loved it all.
He muttered, "I told you, this is my pussy. My pussy. My pussy." He continued with each brutal stroke. "Mine. Mine. Best pussy in the world. Fuck, baby, I love this pussy."
His balls slapped against her mound as he pounded out two weeks of frustration, desire, longing, and heartache. Her knees would be sore later, but Tu didn't care. She was elated to know Mitch still needed her, even if he couldn't admit it, and she wanted the relentless pounding never to end. She wanted the way he felt about her never to end.
The head of his cock rubbed her g-spot with every thrust. She could feel her orgasm building. Mitch was getting harder, harder, harder, until his movements became erratic, disjointed, and she felt the pulses of his seed jetting into her relentlessly. It triggered her own release, and she came on a scream that was guttural and desperate, her pussy clamping down hard on him.
"Milk me, milk me," she heard him murmuring from what seemed like a great distance. He was still pumping, but his movements were shallow and slow.
After their aftershocks faded, he released her arms, placed both his hands on her hips, and slowed to a stop. His large hands caressed her ass, then he gave her a slap.
"We shouldn't have done this," he sighed.
Annoyed, she planted her naked ass on the blanket, then hopped down. She wobbled on legs as weak as a newborn kitten’s, dazed at the impromptu dicking down. Mitch reached out a hand to steady her. She snatched it away, angry at him. Her braids flew and settled on her shoulders as she whirled around to face him.
"Really?" she said sarcastically. She realized now how foolish she had been to go along with this. But the sight of his dick with pre-cum lubricating the tip had been hard to turn down.
Mitch’s lips were moving, but Tu was too angry to focus on his regretful mutterings.
"We can't do this," he said.
"Nice to see you come to this realization after we already fucked." She pulled her leggings up with jerky movements. She ground her teeth and shot daggers at him with her eyes.
"You should be with someone your own age, baby." His voice sounded pained. Helpless.
"I'm on birth control, by the way," she bit out at him, putting her clothes to rights. “So no worrie
s there. And I know your kind don’t get or transmit human infections.”
He looked startled. Confused. Like the lack of condoms was something that had just occurred to him.
She rolled her eyes at him and marched toward the bathroom, leaving Mitch to stand there with his dick hanging out. She had just splashed water on her face when she heard the restroom door open. Mitch appeared behind her, zipping his jeans, his brows furrowed.
"Ladies’ room, Mitch. Get out." Her voice trembled when she spoke, and she was annoyed with herself anew.
"Baby, I care about you," he said. "That's why I want the best for you."
"What?" She looked at him, incredulous. "Oh yeah, I can tell you care so much about me. Why don't you let me decide what's best for me?"
She decided to ignore his declaration. Tu finished pulling herself together, with Mitch watching her with a pleading expression in his pale green eyes, while he also rearranged his own clothing.
"We already agreed what was best for you," he said.
"No, you decided for me!" she hissed angrily.
Tu swept past Mitch and headed for the door that led to the thrift store. She yanked at it, realized it was still locked, unlocked it, then yanked it open.
Twyla stood on the other side looking confused. "Are you okay?" the blonde woman asked Tu. "When I came back, the door was locked..."
"Everything's fine," Mitch said, appearing behind Tu, surprising her. She jumped, then gave him a dirty look. For such a huge guy, he sure was a stealthy bastard.
Twyla narrowed her eyes at both of them. Then she looked right at Tu. "Are you sure?"
"Everything's good," Tu confirmed. Twyla didn't look convinced. Then she quite deliberately sniffed the air, and Tu remembered that as a wolf shifter, Twyla almost certainly could smell sex coming from the warehouse.
"And you know what? I'm going to take off," Tu said. "I need to go run some errands. I finished what I was working on. See you tomorrow afternoon!"
She gave Twyla a bright smile and ignored Mitch, who had his mouth open, no doubt ready to say something else stupid.
Then she got the hell out of there.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Here Comes Santa Claus
Mitch was still on board with his "no relationship" approach to his, err, relationship with Tu.
True, there had been a backslide in the form of the frenzied tryst in the back room of the Foundlings Thrift Store. That had not been planned at all. However, Mitch thought he had recommitted himself to the cause of letting Tu explore relationships with men her own age. He still felt this was the most noble course of action.
On Alan Blue's recommendation, he had had a meal at the Last Chance Café every day of the week. This had the effect of forcing him into social interactions, and he'd found to his surprise that the more he talked to others, the easier it became. What was more, longtime residents had known his mother, and a few made a point to greet him and wish him a Merry Christmas. Much to Mitch’s surprise, he didn't mind people wishing him happy holidays. When he returned home at the end of the day, his mother's decorations greeted him, and it was a nice welcome home.
When he checked in with Blue about his socialization experiments and volunteering at the Foundlings Thrift Store, he’d left out the part about shagging Tu in the back room. Blue had been pleased Mitch went into town every day, but thought Mitch might be using the Last Chance Café as a crutch. Blue suggested Mitch try new establishments—and new people. After some back and forth, they settled on Mitch changing things up by visiting Shifting Grounds, the local coffee house.
A week and a half before Christmas, Mitch walked into Shifting Grounds, scoped the place out to see where he would sit, and spotted Tu standing near the register holding a travel mug. His heart lifted and warmth spread throughout his body at the sight of her. She was wearing the same jeans she'd worn when he'd rescued her, along with the fuzzy red sweater with the plunging neckline he remembered from when he'd come home to a decorated great room. Her braids were gathered into a high ponytail that exposed her pretty neck. Unbidden, thoughts about the first time he'd seen her wearing that sweater came back to him. Even though he'd been angry at the time, thinking of it now was cause for an immediate boner.
But she wasn't alone.
Tu smiled up at a tall man in that super friendly way she had. It was the smile that crinkled at the edges of her eyes and made the apples of her cheeks pop. The same smile she’d used on him when Mitch brought home the Christmas tree for her.
But she was using it on some other guy now. Some other guy who was smiling back at her. Mitch squinted.
His jaw tensed, and he balled his fists at his side.
What should I do?
The young man looked familiar. Mitch even thought he had been in his shop once. His name was...Lopez? Yes, one of the Lopez’s, who were a family of coyote shifters. He wasn't a bad looking guy, if you liked guys who looked like overgroomed underwear models. He was a pretty boy. Did Tu like pretty boys?
Though Mitch didn't indulge in the rumor mill, he knew the Lopez boys had a reputation for being womanizers. Therefore, this particular Lopez boy was definitely not good enough for Tu. Definitely not good enough for Tu.
Mitch remained turned slightly away from the pair, using his wide visual field to surreptitiously monitor what they were doing. He tried to be inconspicuous, which was quite a feat for a six-foot-five, 300-pound minotaur shifter. Just because he didn't have a relationship with Tu, didn't mean he couldn't look out for her. Especially when there were womanizers like Lopez lurking.
As he approached the two of them, Mitch noted the Lopez boy leering at Tu in that slick, predatory way of canine shifters. The man was empty-handed, so clearly, he wasn't even going to pretend to be doing anything besides hitting on her.
Mitch couldn't hear what they were saying. He inched closer to them. He acknowledged in the back of his mind that he should be more careful not to be seen, but come on! The guy was undressing her with his eyes.
As he got closer, the Lopez asshole asked, "So, how long are you planning to be in town?"
"Oh, I didn't tell you? I'm going to be teaching third grade at Perdition Elementary." She was grinning prettily, and unfortunately falling for the Lopez boy's false charm.
"Well, that's the best news I've heard all day," the Lopez boy said in that oily way of his.
"Everyone here in town has been so friendly so far," Tu said, still smiling.
Mitch walked closer to the pair and stood just outside of their personal space. He said nothing, just listened to them chatter on. Tu cast him a fleeting glance, then turned her attention back to her companion.
As their conversation lagged, Mitch cleared his throat.
The Lopez boy noticed Mitch standing there and flashed his white teeth at the minotaur. Mitch recognized him as Bobby Lopez. He drove a light blue Chevy Silverado and had been to Mitch’s body shop to take care of minor dings.
"Well, hey there, Mr. Wayne," Bobby Lopez acknowledged Mitch, who bristled at the "Mister." He made it sound like Mitch was somebody's grandpa.
Mitch stared Bobby Lopez down, said nothing in the way of a greeting, then looked at Tu, and only Tu.
"Are you settling in well, Ms. Greene?" Mitch said cordially. Then he remembered to smile.
"Settling in quite well," Tu said through her teeth, with her smile still firmly—but stiffly—in place. "Thank you for asking."
"Glad to hear it. You know, the house just isn't the same without you there," Mitch said.
"I suppose that explains why you were in such a rush to get me out of there," she said. Her face was smiling, but her voice was icy.
Bobby Lopez frowned, his eyes bouncing between the two of them. Pretty boy was trying to figure out what was going on.
"Anyway, it was nice to see you, Mitch," Tu said, pointedly ignoring the hulking minotaur. "Bobby, my sister is hosting an ugly sweater Christmas party in a few days. Saturday evening at seven. I was wondering if you would like
to join us?"
Bobby grinned like a fool. "Absolutely!"
"Awesome!" Tu said, beaming at Bobby.
"Do I need to bring anything?" Bobby asked.
"Just your ugliest sweater!" Tu said, placing a hand on Bobby's bicep. The coyote wore a disgusting leather jacket, so they weren't making skin-to-skin contact, but that didn't make Mitch feel any better. The pretty boy was all wrong for her.
As the odd man out, Mitch stood there, mute, watching the conversation between Tu and the no-good scoundrel hoping to get in her pants.
"Well, I guess I'll see you there," said the coyote. He turned to leave the shop.
"I'll walk out with you!" Tu said, putting her hand in the crook of Bobby's arm.
The two of them left without so much as a backward glance. Mitch stood rooted in his spot, agitated, unsure of what to do next. No one in the coffee shop seemed to be paying him the slightest amount of attention. He looked to the front of the shop. Tu and Bobby had disappeared from the sidewalk.
Alarmed, Mitch dashed out of Shifting Grounds to see where they went. Bobby was nowhere to be seen, but he saw Tu sliding into her little car, alone. He sighed and watched as she drove away. His shoulders slumped with disappointment, knowing he hadn't handled that situation very well and feeling foolish about the whole thing.
"Mitch! Mitch Wayne?"
Mitch heard a female voice calling his name. Frowning, he looked around for the source. Across the street, a tall, thin, brown-skinned woman with a mass of dark red curls waved at him. It was Vanessa Cermak, wife and mate of Bubba Cermak, the recently installed Pack Alpha. Vanessa was the Alpha Bitch of the Perdition Pack. And she was coming straight for him.
"Ma'am?" He greeted Vanessa with a sharp nod. "Please call me Mitch."
Turns out, Twyla Turner was good friends with Vanessa and had praised him as a volunteer. She thought he might be interested in helping out at one of the St. Ailbe's Parish Christmas activities and mentioned it to Vanessa, who how stood before him, telling him him she was recruiting Santas, and could he possibly help out with that on Saturday?
Her Mistletoe Minotaur: A BWWM Paranormal Holiday Romance (A Very Alpha Christmas Book 1) Page 14