“Messy is what showers and therapy are for,” Roger volunteered quietly.
“That was kind of profound,” I said surprised.
“Yes, well, I did go to medical school.” His lips were pursed and his eyes twinkled.
“I should hope so,” I shot back with a laugh. “I kind of figured you might have done it on line in between watching your shows.”
“My shows also inform my profession,” Roger explained.
“You moonlight as a hooker?”
“Um… no. I’m also a sexual therapist,” he reminded me. “Which brings me to Mac and you.”
“Mac and I do just fine in the sack,” I told him, offended that he would think otherwise.
“I’m sure you do, but do you think it’s wise to let that be the lynch pin of your relationship?”
“Would you like me to lynch pin your head to your desk?” I inquired, willing myself not to zap his ass into tomorrow.
“No, that sounds rather unpleasant,” he stated weakly as he wrung his hands. “I was simply suggesting that because you’re each other’s mates, you spend some quality time truly getting to know each other without the physical getting in the way.”
“The physical is not in the way. And we’re not mates.”
Roger just stared at me. I liked it better when he said stupid stuff and I could jump down his bunny throat. This silence stuff was unnerving.
“Okay, then,” he said in a reasonable doctor tone. “How many relationships with men have you had where you could tell me details other than sexual?”
Shitballs. He had me there. I decided to answer him with his own freaky medicine. I stayed mute. Unfortunately, so did he.
After about a twelve-ish minute stare down, he’d clearly had enough. “Would you like to talk about your mother?” he proposed gamely.
“I’d love to, but it looks like our time is up for this enlightening and nauseating session.”
As I peeked at the clock, I heaved a sigh of relief. I’d tortured myself and Roger with my history for a full session. That was enough.
“I’ll see you next time,” Roger said with a smile and a nod.
“I’d say thank you but I’d be lying. I’m pretty sure you want me to be truthful in here,” I said knowing I was being rude, but unable to stop myself. Roger didn’t deserve my disrespect. He was truly trying to help. However, I needed to accept it and my attitude was a little sucky. Well, there was always next time…
“Zelda, it’s all going to be okay. I believe that and I wish you would too.”
I looked down at my hands and screwed my eyes shut so no tears fell. Roger was wrong. I wanted him to be right, but I’d learned a long time ago that good stuff was always temporary for me. I wanted to stay in Assjacket. For the first time in my life I felt part of something bigger than just myself. I knew I should cut my losses and run while they all still liked me. However, with a newly found father, a boyfriend—for lack of a better word, and a town full of Shifters I was getting far too attached to, it was hard to leave. So I was here, at least for the moment. I’d promised Mac eight more dates before I blew this joint and I was keeping my word. It would make it more painful to leave when the time came, but a promise was a promise.
“Um… Thank you,” I mumbled as I high tailed it to the door. “I’ll see you in two days.”
Bizarrely, I did feel a little better—more confused, but better.
Maybe the pervy rabbit was onto something.
CHAPTER 3
I left Roger’s office in a full out sprint and came to a dead halt when I spotted the gorgeous man leaning on his motorcycle across the street—the very same man who was convinced beyond a doubt that I belonged to him and visa-versa. He was the sexiest distraction I’d ever seen—six foot four, wavy chocolate brown hair, sapphire blue eyes and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of… not to mention a face that would make angels weep.
His sexy smirk made my knees weak and the need to jump his bones went all through me. However, Roger’s stupid words were still sitting at the forefront of my brain. Damn that rabbit.
“Are you stalking me?” I asked with a grin as I approached warily. I wasn’t worried about his actions. I was concerned with mine. Getting arrested for public indecency wasn’t on my agenda today.
“Possibly,” Mac said studying me with unabashed appreciation. “How’d it go with Roger?”
“He thinks we shouldn’t have sex.”
The look on Mac’s face was priceless, but the next part not so much.
“Babe, would you mind watching my bike for a minute?” he asked calmly—too calmly.
“Um… sure. Why?”
“I just need to go and beat the hell out of Roger. Won’t take long,” he promised as he started toward Roger’s office.
“No,” I shouted. “If anyone gets to beat Roger up it’s me and I didn’t tell you the whole story.”
“Talk fast,” he said tersely as he ran his hands through his hair. “Otherwise, Roger has an ass-kicking coming.”
“Okay… um, he said I use sex to escape real emotion and since we’re mates, which I still call bullshit on, I need to know you on more than just a biblical level. He said sex might be getting in the way of us forging a deeper relationship.”
“He said all that?” Mac asked with surprise as his body relaxed somewhat.
“Well, kind of. He implied some crap and then I pieced the rest together,” I admitted sheepishly.
“What do you think about that?” Mac walked back over and took my hand in his.
It was warm and felt so right—but right didn’t last.
“Um… I think Roger is a perv and you know, I’m not sure he really even has a degree. There’s a big ass diploma on the wall, but that doesn’t mean much… Knowing everything about a person is usually unpleasant. I mean, I don’t want to know about your past gal-pals because I’d have to kill them. Since you’re older than dirt that would mean a lot of killing on my part. Just having left the pokey, I really don’t want to go back any time soon—it sucked… and um… emotion isn’t really my thing, so screwing works. Roger is a douchewagon,” I finished very un-eloquently.
“Roger is right,” he said.
“Wait. What?”
“The rabbit is right,” Mac repeated firmly.
“You’re not going to kick his furry rabbit ass?”
“Not today.”
What the hell had I just done?
“Bon Jovi doesn’t want to have sex with me?” I asked, shocked.
“Bon Jovi definitely wants to have sex with you,” he said, referring to his obviously erect man part by the name I’d given it. “However, I want you forever and if getting into your heart means staying out of your pants, I’m all for it.”
“My Little Red Riding Hood is not happy about this. At all.”
“We’ll have sex again when we mate,” he informed me watching carefully for my reaction.
“Whoa, buddy. That’s blackmail,” I shot back with narrowed eyes and a few sparks flying from my very unhappy fingertips. “And I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he replied silkily. “Case in point… I’m willingly calling my Johnson by the emasculating name Bon Jovi.”
“Johnson is a terrible name for a wiener.”
“Nope,” he disagreed with a wince. “Wiener is a terrible name for a Johnson or a Bon Jovi. I do not have a wiener. I have a mammoth… ”
“Ego?” I supplied.
“Yes. And dick.”
I couldn’t disagree with that. He did and he knew how to use it. Shitshitshit. Me and my big mouth.
“So pretty girl, you ready for number eight?” he asked as he pulled me down Main Street.
“Is that a date or a sexual position?” I inquired grumpily as I let him drag me down the street.
“Date. We’re going to improvise,” he replied as he covertly adjusted the crotch his jeans.
“What were we going to do before
our new vow of celibacy?” I inquired as I copped a feel of his ass, happy that his balls were probably turning blue.
“I was going to take you out to the tree fort I built in the woods this morning and play Rapunzel. I was going to climb your hair and then do you till you couldn’t walk,” Mac replied as casually as if he said the sky is blue.
“Stop,” I shouted, yanking him to a halt. I inhaled deeply through my nose and blew it out through my lips. Hyperventilating or passing out was not attractive. I held on to him for purchase and willed myself not to shake. “You built me a tree house?”
“I did.”
By his alarmed expression it was clear he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Nobody ever built me a tree house,” I said quietly, sucking back my ever-present tears. Sex till I couldn’t walk was awesome, but a tree house… for me?
Mac took me in his arms and held me tight. “I’ll build you a tree village if that would make you happy,” he whispered into my hair.
“You’re not playing fair,” I accused.
“Nope. Fair is for losers. I plan to win,” he said cockily as he placed his hand under my chin and raised my eyes to his. “How am I doing?”
I closed my eyes. His serious expression was telling me a story I wasn’t ready to hear. Mac didn’t know me like I knew me. He deserved far better than me—he was the freakin’ King. I was not a Queen.
“I’m insane,” I told him bluntly, avoiding the answer to his question. “I’ve never maintained a relationship or friendship in my life for more than two weeks. I’m a bed hog and I’ll stab you with a fork if you take the last piece of cake.” I sucked in some air and kept going. It would be far easier if he would just walk away now. I didn’t necessarily want to, but I knew I could speed the process with the ugly truth. “I’m a butthole during my time of the month and a butthole on other random occasions as well. I despise being late and will do damage to your Bon Jovi if you’re tardy. I have a potty mouth and will probably be a horrid mother to anything that I would blow out of my hooha. And I’m really bad with puppies.”
“You done?” he asked.
“No. I’m not. Since no one can give me evidence that I wouldn’t have a litter of tiny furry things with you, I see this as an insurmountable problem. Also the mate biting thing still skeeves me out. I’m not really into pain except for a little spanky-spanky every now and then. Your teeth are sharp when you pop fang and while I find that stupidly hot, I’m not really down with you sinking them into me.”
“Done now?”
His entire face was smiling. What the Hell? He was supposed to be running in the opposite direction. What was wrong with him?
“A few more things,” I snapped in frustration.
“Go ahead.”
He pulled us over to a park bench and got comfortable. His half smirk of enjoyment made me want to deck him. I was freakin’ serious. I suppose he thought he was in for a long one by the way he lounged back and waited patiently. Smart man.
“I watch reality TV and sing in the shower. I’m tone deaf and this has scared and scarred many people. Fabio and the cats have earplugs stashed all over the house. I have no plans to end my vocal hobby and bleeding eardrums hurt. I… um, can’t cook and I’ll eat you out of house and home. My metabolism is awesome and as long as it stays that way I’ll eat my own weight in cookies daily. And… well, I… ” Shit, I was running out of stuff. “You need a sophisticated woman to be your Queen.”
“May I speak?” Mac asked calmly.
“Okay,” I replied cautiously. As much as I knew the big break up was inevitable, a huge part of me didn’t want it to be today… or ever.
“Everyone is crazy. We all just wear it differently. Some you can see and some is disguised. I don’t trust anyone who’s not at least a little insane, so you’re fine on that point. As far as the two week moratorium on relationships, we’re already way past that. We’ve been together almost two months. I win,” he informed me smugly.
“But… ”
“My turn,” Mac reminded me as he gently put his finger over my lips. “You can hog my bed any time you want. I like cake, but the last piece shall always be yours as long as I always get the last bite of steak. I’d rather tolerate you being a butthole than deal with anyone else’s shit in the world—vaguely gross pun intended. I’m always punctual, barring having to kill someone or saving the town, and I think your potty mouth is hot.”
Again I tried to counter. Again he pressed his finger to my mouth. I was torn between biting it and sucking on it.
With a wide grin he continued. “It’s true that a witch and a wolf haven’t mated before, but all Shifters are born in human form. We don’t shift until our second birthday so I’m confident you won’t blow out puppies. I can guarantee you will change you mind about the bite, but we can always tie one on to relax you before we get down to business. Not wasted, mind you—just a little tipsy to take the edge off.”
“How about unconscious?” I suggested and then slapped my hand over my mouth. Why in the hell was I suggesting anything having to do with mating?
His laugh was sexy and went right to my girly parts. I rolled my eyes and tried not to smile—impossible.
“You definitely wouldn’t want to be knocked out for the bite because seconds after we mate we’ll go into what’s called Mating Frenzy. Do I need to spell that one out for you?” he inquired politely with a gleam in his eyes.
“Um, no. I’m good,” I choked out. Goddess, I wanted to tackle him and ride him like a bronco.
“Also, I’d like to point out I find it very flattering that you find my fangs hot. My dick gets hard every time your hands light up like fireworks.”
“That’s a little weird,” I commented, secretly delighted.
“Yep,” he agreed with a huge grin.
“You done?”
“Nope, a few more points to cover,” he said sounding like a lawyer winning a career making case. “The remote will be yours as long you watch TV naked. This is nonnegotiable. And you’ll be delighted, or possibly appalled, to know that I too am tone deaf and will happily sing duets with you. It’ll keep visitors away and give us far more time for sex—my favorite hobby. Jeeves cooks and I’m loaded, so the grocery bill is not an issue.”
“You forgot one,” I said quietly, knowing it was a big point.
“No. I didn’t.”
“I’m not a Queen.”
He looked at me long and hard. I desperately wanted to glance away because I knew what was coming. It was unavoidable, but I was trapped in his beautifully intense stare.
“You’re my Queen. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and I’ve waited for you my entire long life. All I need my Queen to do is love me back.”
And there was the million-dollar question. Could I love him like he deserved to be loved? I still wasn’t sure what love really meant. I was pretty sure I loved Fabio slash Dad, but that was the natural order of things. Children were supposed to love their parents. And that was also the conundrum. My life didn’t follow natural order—at all. My mother didn’t love me. Her failed attempt at killing me put all hopes of a healthy normal mother-daughter relationship to rest.
“Mac, I… ”
“Nope,” he whispered. “No more words on this particular subject right now. I have a handful of dates left before you’re allowed to make any kind of decision. We clear?”
“Bossy much?” I said, relieved to have gotten a pass for the moment.
“I’m an alpha werewolf who never loses. What did you expect?” he shot back with a laugh.
I squinted my eyes at him and bit down on my lip so I didn’t grin. “Are we really not going to play hide the salami?”
His pained groan made me giggle. “Do not call my Bon Jovi a salami—ever. And no, we’re not. Roger, damn him to hell, is correct.”
“What about making out and a little dry humpy-humpy?” I offered as a conciliation prize.
I watched him consider my
suggestion. Again he had to adjust his jeans.
“I suppose that could work,” he pondered aloud with some hesitation.
“How about a BJ?”
“No. As much as it pains me, and let me make it very clear that it pains me,” he said referring to the large bulge in his pants. “We can’t take off our clothes.”
A Witch In Time: Magic and Mayhem Book Three Page 3