That was how marriage worked, wasn’t it? Accepting the good and the bad in equal measure. Loving that person you decided to dedicate yourself to regardless of those irritating quirks that they had, even going so far as come to need them.
When Jake had died, she’d wished like hell she hadn’t ridden him so hard about never picking up after himself. As he’d lay there in the hospital, his last breath a mere day or so away, hadn’t she pleaded with God for Him to heal her husband? Hadn’t she promised that she’d never get mad at him for dumping dirty towels on the floor in the bedroom, or leaving wet dishtowels beside the laundry basket instead of in it?
Those petty flaws of his had become necessary to her when the threat of them being taken from her had seemed likely. But she’d chosen to live with those flaws. Only, in this, with a mate, there were no choices. They didn’t have to have a say in the matter. Whoever the Goddesses, as Mundo called them, lumped you with, you were stuck with them.
It seemed like a pretty undemocratic way of living to her, but then, she was human. She ascribed to the mentality of free will. It seemed Shifters were completely different—in more ways than one, as she was coming to learn.
For three days, she and Mundo had been living in her apartment. They had yet to have full-on, penetrative sex, mostly because when the time came for them to get down and dirty, the most bizarre thoughts came to her. She didn’t want him inside her. Oh no, this freaky, frisky creature Mundo had awakened wanted him anywhere but.
He’d climaxed on her belly, her breasts, her legs. Even her feet hadn’t been spared when she’d given him a ‘foot’ job—an act the crazed lunatic of a beast inside her had urged to do. She’d never been more grateful for the fact she went to the salon once a month for a mani/pedi. Even now, the thought of seeing her toes, with the glossy black nails covered in spunk, made her shudder. He’d slid through the folds of her sex, using her juices and his cum as a lube, riding her there, nudging her clit with every thrust until he’d come all over her pussy again.
It was insane the number of ways they’d managed to have sex without actually having sex.
Mundo was relatively relaxed about the whole situation, and though it was wrong to continuously compare him to Jake, she couldn’t seem to stop doing it. Jake, in all their years of being a couple, had never been all that into foreplay. If for three days straight that was all they’d done, she knew her husband would have had a major sulk on.
Mundo, on the other hand, was content. Whenever she looked at him, whether he was eating, sleeping, or bathing, he wore a smile that spoke of his deep and utter satisfaction with the status quo. And when he told her about Shifter culture, how even in his MC there was only one other male with a proper mate, she guessed she could understand. Those smiles spoke of his gratitude, and he showered her with that gratitude every moment he could. It was a luxury she didn’t feel too guilty about acclimating to. So, rather than be sulky or annoyed at not getting in on with her properly, he seemed to be enjoying the call of the Goddesses. The latter was what she called the lunatic beast inside her, but his ‘call of the Goddesses’ shit freaked her out all the more. She was getting more adept at hiding it though.
The thought prompted a smile out of her, and she burrowed her face between Mundo’s shoulders, snuggling deeper into him. They hadn’t left the bedroom all that much in the past three days, and the scent of sex was starting to fill the air—maybe because most of it was going on to the damn sheets rather than in a condom!
The call of everyday life was beckoning though, because she was running out of bedclothes and soon would have to do the laundry. And while she’d enjoyed the binge food they’d been eating—all take out and easy to throw out once they’d done—she wanted something wholesome and fresh tonight. Plus, she’d been calling in sick every morning. It wasn’t a lie, but neither was it something she could get a sick note for.
What the hell would a doctor say if she went to them and said, “I need time off to screw my new Shifter lover. Can I have a sick note for work?”
Yeah, she could really see that working out—not.
For the first time in too many years, her days were filled with love, and she hated the idea that life was going to intrude on it. She adored how close they were, spending as much time as they could touching or hugging. Such close, physical contact was something that had been lacking from her world for so long that she was soaking up Mundo’s attention like a sponge. The time they’d spent together could still be quantified in hours, so short a time had they even known one another, and yet the notion of going to work again and not being in close contact made her shiver and huddle closer to him.
“What are you thinking?”
“How do you know I’m thinking anything?” she retorted, surprised to hear his gruff voice. She’d thought he was sleeping.
“Because you keep smiling against my back, or huffing or snorting.”
“I do not snort,” she denied, leaning up just so she could glower down at him, all sadness whipped away by his words.
He rolled over onto his back, a smirk on his chops. “You totally do.” His grin widened when he saw her boobs were bare as the covers had fallen around her hips. He reached over, grabbed one of the heavy globes, and said, “I want to put my head between these and go to sleep.”
“You’d suffocate,” she told him, matter of fact.
“What a way to fucking go, though.”
She snorted.
Dammit!
Glowering at him and his pointed look, she leaned back, taking her breasts with her.
“There’s no need to sulk just because I was right.”
“I’m not sulking. My boobs are.”
He chortled. “Your boobs are mean. Let me make it up to them.” Mundo curled upward into a sitting position, which made his abs bunch and tauten. Christ, she never got sick of looking at his stomach. Her eyes automatically glued themselves to his gut whenever he was naked—which was most of the time. She knew the man was more than his belly, but they were just so… so prominent—and all the more droolworthy because of it.
A finger lifted her chin up, dragging her gaze from his belly to his eyes. “What?” she snapped. “I was busy.”
“Busy drooling. My eyes are up here, darlin’. I’m starting to feel objectified.” His lower lip popped out in a pout.
She snorted. Again. Fuck it. “You should appreciate the fact your mate’s brain goes into lock down whenever she sees your belly.”
His eyes flared at her use of the term, ‘your mate.’ She used it sneakily because his voice always dropped an octave, like her referencing what she was to him really hit him square between the eyes. “Only if my mate can appreciate I do the same when I see her boobs.”
“You don’t just look though, do you?” she retorted snootily. “You jiggle and bounce them too.”
“I’d let you do the same to my stomach, babe, but there isn’t that much to jiggle.” She giggled, because he spoke nothing but the truth. “I have other bits you can play with though,” he carried on teasing, a glint in his eye. Beneath the sheets, his cock started to harden, making a small tent at his groin.
“Someone likes the idea of that,” she remarked knowingly. “I’d be happy to oblige, but I’m hungry. Plus, I need to get out of this apartment. It stinks of sex. Take your mate for food and fresh air, and she might, just might, jiggle and bounce something for you tonight.”
“And let me suffocate in her breasts?”
She rolled her eyes. “Now, why would I let you do that? I like all your parts to be fully functioning. They’re no use to me if they’re stone cold and immobile, are they?”
“Nice to know I’m good for something.”
“You’re good for many things.” She grinned at him then copped a feel of his belly when she put a hand there and used that to support herself as she leaned over and kissed him. “Many, many things.”
He growled when she pulled back and climbed off the bed. He was fast, but she sneaked off
the mattress at a speed that shocked even her. She stumbled with the velocity of it, almost crashing into the doorway when she’d been twelve feet away by the bed a second before.
Climbing off the bed was always a task because she was short and the bed was high. She always had to clamber down. Then, normally, at a shuffling-in-slippers pace, it might take five seconds to make it to the door. So, what should have taken around thirty seconds had taken one.
One.
What the fuck?
Carefully turning her head back to him, eyes wide, she gasped, “What the hell was that?”
Mundo looked surprised but unconcerned. Then, as he answered her question, she could sense his satisfaction seeping out. “We’re mating.”
She blinked then planted a hand on her hip. “No shit, Sherlock. Christ, of course we are. That’s what the past three days have been about.”
It was his turn to snort. “I don’t mean that. I mean, the physical mating is leading to the, you know, metaphysical mating. The bond is coming together. You’re taking some of my traits.” Those last words practically oozed satisfaction. “I would never have said you’d take speed though.”
“Why not?” she asked with a huff, planting both hands on her hips this time.
His lips twitched. “I wouldn’t take you for a runner, babe.”
She almost glowered at him but realized there was no criticism within those words. He’d just spent the last seventy-two hours worshiping her every inch. Three days ago, she’d suffered from self-consciousness and self-confidence issues. Not anymore. She couldn’t. Not when he’d salivated over her every curve, jizzed over almost every inch, and tried to kiss any spare part that he’d missed.
There was no way self-consciousness could survive in that kind of habitat.
She’d never have walked around the apartment butt naked before, but now? It was a regular habit.
He’d celebrated all of her, and when you were surrounded in that kind of adoration, hating yourself was just plain stupid.
“I’ve been known to power walk,” she replied instead, and it was a testament to how the man had empowered her that there wasn’t even a tidbit of irritation in her tone. It sucked that it had taken his attentions for her to feel good about herself, but who was she and every other woman kidding? It always felt so damn great when a guy found you hot, and there was no denying that to Mundo, she was up there at boiling point.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, ignoring her comment to say, “I guess that bodes well. I don’t have to worry about you being in danger anymore. You can just run away.”
“Super dentist,” she said wryly. “I can see it in the papers now.”
“I’ll get you some scrubs with a big ‘S’ on them.” He grunted, then admitted, “I’d have preferred for you to get some of my strength. That would have been far more useful in defending yourself.”
He sounded so down about it that she returned to the bed and reached over for his hand. “It’s okay. Anything’s a bonus, right? And it’s not like we had a say in what I’d get or if I’d get anything at all.” He’d told her that though his mother and father had been mated, she’d not taken on any of his traits.
She guessed this super speed of hers was a testament to the strength of their bond.
It fit. There was no way this sense of rightness could be in any way wrong.
“No, I guess you’re right. We should be thankful for small mercies. But what with you working in prisons and shit, I’d have liked for you to be able to handle yourself better.” His jaw flexed a little and she could see his teeth working. “Have you ever done any self-defense classes, Christie?”
She shook her head. “I always meant to, but I just never got around to it.”
He worked his bottom lip, nipping it between his thumb and forefinger. “Would you consider making it a priority?”
Touched, she smiled. “If it would make you feel better, then of course I will.”
“I mean, I’d teach you myself—” He hesitated. “But my style of fighting isn’t really… Well, it isn’t what I’d like you to learn.”
She laughed. “You mean, rapists have a preference for karate over street brawling?”
“Something like that,” he admitted sheepishly.
Christie shook her head, wondering at her acceptance of the things he said, the things that were a part of his world which were alien to her.
Talks of fighting, period, would have had her running backward out the door with anyone else. And yet, with him? It was Mundo. This mate bond didn’t make her blind to everything going on in his life, and in a way, it illuminated it. But she could temper it, excuse it. He was a Shifter, after all… different than her. She had to accept the myriad ways in which they weren’t the same or give up on them totally. And after three days together, hardly anytime at all, she couldn’t do that.
She simply couldn’t.
That was more astonishing than anything else though—the need she had for him. It swelled inside her, flooding every part until she didn’t know where she began and he ended. It was more than being a soulmate, in a human’s understanding of it, it was everything. It was so overwhelming it could be suffocating but so fulfilling it was like taking a breath of fresh air after being in a stuffy room for too long. The contrasting emotions were enough to give anyone whiplash from being jerked back and forth, side to side, but she’d never felt more replete, never happier and more at ease with herself in the world.
Christie shook off her thoughts before she started feeling guilty about Jake and moved off the bed again. “I’m going to go shower—” She held up a hand to stall him. “You’re not going to join me because if you do, we’ll never get out of here today and I’m getting cabin fever. Then you can take me somewhere. Anywhere you’d like. I’m not fussy,” she murmured with a wink. “But try to impress me, huh?”
He snickered. “No pressure then, eh?”
She shot him another wink then sauntered off to the bathroom, leaving him there to watch her go. She didn’t really put the extra sway in her hips. It was a naturally occurring phenomenon—something that had started to happen ever since Mundo had popped into her world and made her feel like a sex Goddess. She was starting to see how she’d been a sensual creature all along, but she’d never embraced that part of herself—until now.
With a smile, she stared at herself in the mirror after she turned the shower on and left the water to run until it heated up. The woman looking back at her seemed to be a different creature than the one she’d known for three decades. This one had a mysterious glint in her eye, and the Mona Lisa smile totally made sense now. La Giaconda must have been very sexually satisfied was all Christie was saying.
She climbed into the shower and started to wash herself, taking a concerted effort to soap up her chest and belly, thighs, feet, and arms. She was covered in his seed, and the last thing she wanted was someone smelling him on her. Christ, how mortifying would that be? She knew already that Mundo would just love the idea. He smelled her from time to time, pushing his nose behind her ear, nuzzling between her breasts, or taking a whiff of her pussy—which had embarrassed the hell out of her the first time he’d done it. Each time, he’d looked more and more satisfied, and she could only suppose she was smelling more and more like him.
The notion was amusing, in a gross way.
Rinsing off the thick lather of soap, she wondered what tomorrow held. She’d have to go back to work, as would he. They’d have to start making decisions. These few days had been so nice—so wonderfully freeing. The real world beckoned though, and Christie wondered how the pair of them would navigate the difficult waters their unique situations would throw at them.
Kenny (Shifter Football League Book 2) Page 64