by T. A. Grey
If she ever saw him...he flinched to think how that would go.
He could see it now. Hanna’s eyes would widen, her mouth would fall open in a gasp. She’d give him that: ‘what the fuck is that?!’ look which he’d seen countless times before. Then her lip would curl upward, not with a smile mind you, more like a grimace of disgust. A physical sign of her discomfort at what she saw. At least his dick was in working order that much was true. He shot straight and all that.
But everything else about it was a fucking disaster; one he preferred to leave the fuck alone. He had his dad to thank for that.
But how could he leave it alone when she, Ms. Princess, Ms. MacKellen, Warrior Woman with the ‘tude, sat straight across from him at the rickety round table in their room ignoring the shit out of him. She even refused to make eye contact with him.
Hanna was in one of those womanly moods that men had been trying to decipher for hundreds of years. A mood which, in fact, men had been calling women out on in the same amount of years. Alex understood that she was pissed. At least his ego got a nice pat to it. The fact that Hanna was frustrated at him for not having sex with her could almost put a grin on his face. It might’ve if not for his impending death. That thought tended to sober him up.
Alex hadn’t talked about it much. His imminent death. He didn’t want to scare her, but every night he went to sleep, he woke up one day closer to his end. He wasn’t gonna make it easy for them. No way. He was a fighter, but even Alex knew he couldn’t fight his way out of this mess. The only way would be to escape.
He needed an out. And quickly.
Which was why he needed to talk to Hanna.
But she wouldn’t even look at him. She stabbed her fork into her parboiled potatoes and ate lazily, like an afterthought. She should be ravenously hungry after the eight-plus hours of work they made her do. He’d seen her hands, they were raw and bloodied where the skin had cracked. Her hands weren’t used to the kind of work they were making her do. But she hadn’t complained once about it. That MacKellen strength in her held her up.
Alex had finished his disappointingly tiny amount of food five minutes ago. Her breeding cycle certainly had her hormones in a whirl because he could smell her need from where he sat. Vanilla, sweetened decadence sitting like a hot furnace between her smooth thighs--his mouth watered for a taste of her. He knew she’d welcome him. With open arms and open lips and open legs, she’d let him take her. Right now if he asked her. She’d let him sink right into her awaiting heat; let him come right inside her. Just like she’d asked him to. She’d enjoy it. And so would he.
Alex shuddered at his thoughts. That was the last thing he wanted--coming inside Hanna with an opportunity to knock her up. Sex during the breeding cycle was a dead ringer for pregnancies with ninety-nine per cent accuracy. Too high to risk in his opinion, no matter how sexy she was. Even if he pulled out...the risk was still too great.
Of course, that was the only reason he could explain to Hanna about his lack of interest in sex with her, because he didn’t want to delve into his other problem. He’d rather be burned alive than talk about it. So, there was that.
Alex decided to start simple first. Be provocative. Something would eventually get a rise out of her. “Not speaking to me, princess?”
No response. Hanna merely lifted one blonde eyebrow to acknowledge she’d heard him speak. Well, that was a start.
“We should talk.”
Her pretty mouth opened and she stuck a small green pea in there which she chewed for a solid minute before daintily swallowing. No response.
Alex openly stared at her. God, she was gorgeous. He’d always thought that. But for some reason every time she gave him her Princess Attitude, as he’d decided to call it, he found himself enjoying it more and more. He was practically grinning at her.
How fucked up was that?
But it was true. Alex fucking adored Hanna’s shitty moods. She acted in the utmost of prissy and uppity fashions like a true drama queen. What made it all so damn funny was that her attitude was mostly unprovoked and an overreaction on her part, thus making him correct in the equation. Which he naturally enjoyed immensely. And this all had to do with how badly she wanted him, and that made him feel like a sexual god.
The position he was in now was to knock her down off her high horse. He only had to figure out how to do it. And that was fun.
“Did Margaret ever say anything about your little outburst today?”
The tines of her fork clinked against the plate as Hanna speared a thin sliver of potato. She chewed the bite slowly. Slurp, she sipped at her ice water. Still no response.
Alex tried another tactic. “I think I saw something interesting while I was working.”
Hanna broke character to look at him. Alex grinned at his achievement, but then she quickly looked back down at her plate to resume her silence.
“Yes, well I heard something too.” Said the princess to the servant.
Alex decided to indulge her.
“And what was that?” Said the servant to the princess.
“A few of the girls in the laundry room said that Remi had a problem with keeping his hands to himself. I’m going to ask around and see if I can find anyone with a tangible story. They sounded as if it was a real problem. Maybe a few testimonies of Remi’s character could help sway Queen Lysette to freeing us.”
Alex shrugged. “Doubt it, but it’s worth a try.” If anything maybe a few eyewitness accounts of Remi’s nefarious, behaviors might help Hanna’s case. Alex would still be the one at the stake awaiting his sentence. Not Hanna.
Hanna jousted a pea, spearing it harder than necessary. “You would say that.”
“Would I now? What makes you say that?”
She spoke to him from over the rim of her cup. “You, Alex Thompson, are nothing but a show off.”
Wait, what? Alex did a double take. “What are you talking about now? Did they put something in your water?” He peered at it skeptically.
“I don’t think so, Mr. Thompson. I believe my breeding cycle has simply led to a crystallizing of my thoughts.”
“A what?”
“A clearing of my thoughts, Alex. Do you understand that?”
“Yeah, Princess. I get it.” Alex fought the grin threatening to overtake his mouth. He didn’t want her to know how much fun this was for him. She didn’t need to know how much pleasure he got out of their mini-arguments. Even the way she sat looked quite the sight. Her legs were crossed and pointed away from him, upper body straight and neat, spine erect, lips pursed, nose pointed up. He nearly chuckled out loud, but managed to smother his hand over his mouth. “So how am I a show off?”
How curious. She blushed at his question. Which meant it likely had something to do with their circumstances last night--making out hot and heavy. Him eating her out like a buffet. Alex instantly regretted thinking about it. His cock reacted to the thought, getting hard.
Goddamn. The thing had a mind of its own. He only managed to keep from dragging her clothes off by remembering his deformity. Yeah, that helped to tamp his arousal a touch. His arousal deflated like a popped balloon.
“You act as if you’re this big bad man. Punching men in the mouth. Kissing random women in bars. Pulling them over, when you’re not even a cop. I mean...and that’s just to name a few things. Then there’s the making love, which was nice, but who interrupts that? You said we’re through, no more. No sex. That is fine with me,” Hanna said breezily.
She was obviously anything but fine with it. His ego expanded exponentially and he grinned.
“These things make me a ‘big bad man’?”
She continued on her tirade, ignoring his question. “Then there’s the touching of me you did. Really, why give me a taste if I can’t have the whole dessert?” Hanna stood up as she spoke, one hand sliding on the table as she towered over him.
He’d wanted a response, well now he was getting one.
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“Alex, I am not the type of woman who samples a piece of cake and puts it back. When I decide I want that cake, I’ve thought long and hard about it. I’ve thought of all the reasons why to and why not to eat the cake. By time I’ve decided, I know I want that cake, and I want all of it. Not a little piece, or a tiny lick of icing; I want it all. From top to bottom. You gave me a sample, Alex. You gave me a little taste, and then you jerked that piece of cake away from me and said ‘nope, you can’t have any of this deliciously tasty cake anymore!’ Well, I don’t know what to say about all that Alex. Except that I’m mad and I don’t really feel like talking to you about this right now. That is all.”
Must be hormones talking because he’d never seen her so irrational.
Hanna finished her rather impassioned speech, stepped back nearly knocking her chair over, and strode away. Poor thing didn’t have far to go. He imagined if they were back in the MacKellen pack, she’d have gotten in her car and gone out driving in a tizzy. Not that he was making fun of her. Though he did enjoy teasing her, much to his delight.
He fucking adored these conversations.
Alex was chuckling before he thought twice about it. He remembered the night he’d “pulled her over.” He’d spotted Hanna driving significantly under the speed limit at about one o’clock in the morning. He’d thought maybe something was wrong, and he’d been right. Not only was she drunk, she was also on her way to confront her cheating mate who’d been shagged up with some lady in a motel. He didn’t know how she’d managed to do it, but before he knew it, he’d been driving her ass to that motel. She’d somehow managed to convince him to do it. And it’d been his fist hitting Tom’s lipstick-smeared mouth. It’d felt good. So, at least there was that.
“I really hope you’re not laughing at me.” Hanna crossed her arms.
“What if I am? Gonna do something about it?”
Hanna’s head snapped towards him and she leveled him with a glare. “Maybe I am.” As if she could hurt him. Alex sprawled back in his seat, arms splayed and legs wide open. “Come at me, sweetheart.”
Hanna studied his prone position. Something in her expression made him feel uneasy. The way she then smiled sweetly at him as if she knew something he didn’t, rattled his confidence.
“Great!” she said.
Suddenly she was striding towards him--while simultaneously pulling her t-shirt up and over her head.
Fuck.
Too late, the mistake had been made. He shouldn’t have taunted her.
“You know, I need to take a shower. Mind if I use it first tonight?” The shirt whipped over her head. Her white bra greeted him; she was only six feet away and closing in rapidly. Alex felt like a puppy, wide-eyed and lost to the incredible vision before him. Hot woman in little clothing meant his thoughts suddenly turned intense and sexual. And aroused. And now he was hard as rock.
What would she do next?
The shirt hit him in the face. Alex allowed it to fall to the floor as his gaze shot to the mounds of glorious flesh barely contained by her bra. Hanna reached behind herself and he heard a snap. Two snaps to be precise and with each one he felt his dick jump and his shaft grow a bit thicker. He went from soft to stiff in a matter of seconds. Fuck. He loved that smooth stomach, had sucked on those breasts, squeezed them in his hands and enjoyed them immensely. Dang. His skin felt stretched taut.
All the memories of their encounter that he’d been trying to stuff below the surface regained traction.
The bra came free. Milky white breasts spilled into sight.
Alex made a strangled sound. Her nipples were already tight, ready to be tugged or sucked on. Somehow biting down hard on his bottom lip, helped to ease the growing discomfort in his jeans.
“Alex Thompson. I am going to tell you this once. And only once. So listen carefully.”
Alex listened raptly, ears not going to miss a word of this. She was worked up now. He could see it by the fire in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, and the power in her voice.
“I’m a free woman now, which means I can do as I please with whom I please.” Her breasts jiggled with each step, a wicked dance that kept him mesmerized. “You’re also a grown, healthy man. Are you not?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, already knowing what his response would be--yes. “And yet you’ve drawn yourself away from me during my breeding cycle. When we’re in this hopeless situation that I can do nothing about it. At a time when I am lost to my body, Alex. I have no choice. It hurts.”
She let the words sink in and her hands went to rub at her lower belly and a pained expression scrunched her face.
“It really hurts.” Hanna’s voice cracked with emotion. “I haven’t wanted to say anything, but I fear that if I don’t...at all...it’s only going to get worse. I’ve never gone without during my breeding cycle, Alex. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m afraid of ignoring it. The pressure keeps getting more intense. It’s like vicious hands are inside me, squeezing down on my organs. And I have about five more days of this to go.”
Alex blanched. He hadn’t thought about all that. He’d heard it could be painful, and that lykaen women required a man to service them at least in part during their breeding cycle. It was said to be insufferable otherwise. Days of agony. He supposed he’d been hoping if she didn’t mention the pain then they both could deny it. Too bad that bubble just burst.
“Listen,” Hanna said gently. “You and I aren’t going to do a thing together. I get it. I suppose I’m a little jealous. Or frustrated or irritated, whatever you want to call it. But I understand. I can’t make you want me, and I wouldn’t want things to be like that between us. You deserve better than that, and you know what? So do I. So, I’m going to put what happened between us in the past. It’s gone. Forgotten.”
Hell, it wasn’t forgotten to him. The sight of her bare breasts so close to his face was only a blatant reminder. An unfair one.
“Then what’s with the undressing?” He growled, unhappy with this turn of events. He was supposed to be in charge here.
Hanna began opening her jeans button and zipper, casually as if she stripped in front of him all the time. She shimmied the material down her smooth legs. “I’m going to go shower. It’s really tight space in there, so I decided to undress out here. It’s easier.” She threw her jeans at him; they landed on his crotch. At least that’d hide his ever-hardening cock. “And I suppose I don’t feel embarrassed being naked around you anymore. Now that I know we won’t be having sex at all I feel relaxed about it. Plus, you have seen parts of me...rather up close. And either of us could die soon. That seems to change perspective, doesn’t it? What’s there to be shy about?”
Another growl, only this time, louder. His beast lashing against its cage.
“I don’t see what you’re so upset about. This is what you wanted, right? You don’t want any pressure about having to do sexual things with me, right? Well, I’m taking care of it. I don’t need you, Alex.” She didn’t say any of it in mean spirit, which only drove Alex even crazier.
This was not how things were supposed to go tonight.
Alex stood. “You mean to tell me you can just call off this thing between us like it’s nothing?”
Hanna stared at him for a moment, a strange glint in her eye. “Just like you did to me, Alex.”
Alex felt like the rug had been stripped from beneath him. He sat down hard in the chair, mumbling and cursing his dissatisfaction.
“Listen it’s not that I’m not interested in the idea of— ” he hesitated over the word choice, “sleeping with you. But, sweetheart, I got my own shit to deal with it.”
Hanna paused, genuinely curious. “Like what?”
Hell no. He was not going there. She did not need to know about his dick problems.
“It’s none of your business, princess.”
“Ah.” Hanna slipped off her panties, revealing the sweet snatch between her thighs, then turned on her heel and stormed for the bathroom. He watched h
er sweet backside moving and his jaw slackened. Naked woman. So close. His hands curled into fists to keep from grabbing for her.
“Sweetheart...you’re killing me.”
She turned at the last moment and smiled at him, a wicked, knowing grin. “I know.”
Alex ground his teeth as he headed for the fireplace--again.
* * * * *
Wicked dreams consumed her.
Hanna unknowingly kicked covers off her body as sweat slickened her skin. In her dreams, she dreamt of a man. A certain man who’d occupied several fantasies of hers. A man who could see straight through her and tell it like it is, or kiss the boots straight off her feet. Alex mother-loving Thompson.
In her dream, Alex was kissing her, his body lying half-atop her on their dingy cot. She kissed him with ferocity. The growing ache deep in her center building until it was a throbbing, pulsating tempo.
Her dream Alex kissed his way down her body, lifting her shirt to play with her breasts. She cried out his name, sighing as he ran his hands up and down her body.
Yes, she thought! Yes!
This is what she wanted so badly, what she needed from him. To pump her up, fill her deep, and do naughty things to her.
Please, she begged him.
The Alex of her dreams did not open his eyes as he kissed his way down her stomach to that spot between her legs leaving her breathless in his wake. Hanna was at his mercy, wishing for more. Always more. He placed his mouth to the heated center of her--and Hanna shot awake with a startled cry.
At once, she sat up in bed, hands flying to her sex. She found the comforting material of underwear, which she still wore, though they were wet.
Hanna blinked, taking in her surroundings as she fought to catch her breath. She’d been dreaming of Alex, she membered bits of it. Though already the dream was fading from her mind.
Then she felt something strange. A touch at her stomach. Something worm. Hanna gazed down her body and found a hand on her stomach. A man’s hand. The noted scar marks on the tops told her exactly whose hands it was. That and that fact that she was only in bed with one man.