by Zoe Chant
Water embraced her, and she felt the rush of the gentle currents around her. She drove forward, memorizing the feeling of her muscles with each stroke, the way her body moved when it was surrounded by water. She had to smile at the soreness that Travis had left her, and she broke the surface with a gasp for breath before breaking into an easy stroke along the surface, swimming out into the ocean.
It felt odd, after so much swimming as her otter. In some ways, she was comparatively awkward, not at all the lithe, graceful creature her furry alter-ego was. But in some ways, she was more beautiful as a human.
It was odd to find her otter in her head, enjoying the swimming as much as she was, reveling in the differences between them.
We’re different, her otter told her, unexpectedly kind. I’m not better.
Jenny sighed. I’m… sorry, she told her. I haven’t been very understanding.
She drew in a deep breath, dove under the water, and shifted.
It was a painless shift, executed between one breath and the time she would have wanted another, and she was the small, agile otter again, diving joyfully through the water.
The shift back was just as painless and smooth, and Jenny was breaking the surface and exhaling her stale air to take another breath. She didn’t have to check to know that her teeth were only human-sharp, and that her fingers had no claws or webbing.
She rolled to her back, an otter motion that was less easily achieved by her human form.
I am better at that, otter scoffed, then added sweetly, but you’ll improve.
I think you have always been in my head, Jenny mused. You are every bad idea I ever ignored.
Maybe you’ve been every bad idea I’ve ever ignored, her otter told her merrily in return.
Jenny chuckled, arms wide as she bobbed at the surface of the water.
I still don’t know what to do about Travis, she said, after a moment of serene floating.
We’ll figure it out, her otter told her carelessly. He is our mate, and he’ll be patient while you work through your issues.
Jenny had to laugh. It’s like having the most unsympathetic psychiatrist in the world in my head with me, she said wryly.
Chapter 15
“It’s insane,” Travis admitted. “I’m on the world’s worst roller coaster. Or the best, I can’t decide.” It was early enough that the sun wasn’t up yet, but most of the staff was already getting ready for the day, gathered informally in the dated kitchen for breakfast.
“Yeah,” Tex agreed with a drawl, leaning past him to get into the refrigerator. “Stick it out, man. She’ll be worth the lows getting there. Her sister sure is.” He shared a sly sideways grin as he came out of the fridge with a piece of pizza.
It wasn’t often that the resort had such a pedestrian offering, and of course, it was a pizza with Chef’s special flare: a mild, herby sauce with chopped basil, olives, and sausage crumbles, all smothered in white cheeses. Breck had brought all of the leftover pieces from the night before when he’d closed the dining hall.
Travis considered a piece for himself, but wasn’t sure he wanted breakfast at all. Jenny had vanished after their evening tryst, and as much as he wanted to hunt her down and repeat the event, he knew he had to give her whatever space she needed. His chest hurt, and he was sure that food wouldn’t fill the emptiness that her absence left in him.
“Guh,” Breck disagreed vehemently. “Mates. Run while you can.”
“You can’t run from your mate,” Tex told him. “And believe me, you won’t want to.”
“Oh, I can,” Breck scoffed. “And believe me, I will.” He elbowed past Travis, who was still camped out next to the fridge, and got his own piece of pizza.
“Breck finding his mate is going to be a train-wreck,” Bastian observed, yawning his way into the kitchen. “Close your robe, Breck. No one wants to see that.”
“Plenty of people want to see that,” Breck smirked and leaned back against the counter as he ate, making sure the robe gaped just right. “This place is clothing optional.”
“The resort is clothing optional,” Bastian argued. “Not the staff house.” He edged past Breck distastefully and moved Travis aside to grab two pieces of Chef’s pizza out the fridge.
“I’m with Bastian,” Tex agreed. “We need house rules that include a dress code.”
“No Speedos,” Bastian suggested. “Shoes off at the door.”
“No nudity,” Tex added.
“No cowboy hats,” Breck countered.
“Hey now,” Tex protested. “That’s pretty specific.”
“So is the nudity clause.” Breck went for another slice of the pizza, making Travis realize that he was still standing too close to the door. He sighed, and got his own slice before the fridge door swung closed.
“There are more than two hundred guest beds in this resort,” Graham announced, coming into the kitchen like a storm cloud.
The staff looked at him expectantly, and Travis looked up from taking the first bite of Chef’s pizza-like delicacy to find that the brunt of Graham’s glare was for him.
“And you had to use a flower bed?” Graham finished, biting off every word like it was dirty.
Breck, Tex, and Bastian all drew in theatrical breathes.
“Oh snap,” Breck said. “See, I told you mates were trouble.”
“You’ve smashed your share of flower beds,” Tex reminded him.
“Hush,” Breck said. “Travis is in trouble right now.”
Travis made a sound that might have been a growl and might have been clearing his throat. “Sorry about the garden,” he said, not feeling particularly sorry.
Graham stalked towards Travis, giving him a moment of concern, but opened the refrigerator instead, surveying the options before deciding on the last slice of the pizza.
He gave Travis a look chillier than the air escaping from the fridge and swept back out without another word.
“Dodged a bullet,” Bastian laughed.
“I’m just glad we don’t have to clean up any blood this time,” Breck said, sounding faintly disappointed.
“Thanks for all the backup,” Travis said sarcastically.
“No problem,” Tex said cheerfully, clapping him on the back.
Travis left the house muttering, toolbox in hand, but he was smiling wryly.
The first thing he did was tear up the old decking from the porch at cottage twelve. It was cathartic to destroy it down to the structure, ripping up the previous boards with a crowbar or just his own hands. The next thing was to carry the new boards down from the other job site. With the bar still closed for the morning, Tex helped him haul them down.
“If I see Jenny, I’ll tell her where you are,” the bartender promised.
“Thanks,” Travis told him, then lost himself in setting up the job site, leveling the sawhorses, and running the extension cord for the chop saw and the hose from the compressor.
He felt Jenny before he saw her, the hair at the back of his neck rising to attention as Lynx began to caper in eagerness.
Turning to see her was like a shock of electricity. She looked fresh and well-rested, and so breathtakingly gorgeous that Travis had to shift his hips to give his growing member space in his pants.
“Don’t let me interrupt you,” she said shyly. “I was just… looking for something to do. Some way to help.”
Travis could think of something to do, but knew it wasn’t what she meant. “I’d love your help.”
She walked hesitantly into the work site, skirting around the chop saw cautiously. “I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be. I’m… still having trouble reading words.”
“Numbers, too?” Travis asked. He handed her a tape measure and noticed that her fingers had short, sensible nails, not claws.
She unrolled it a few inches and shrugged. “Apparently, I can read the numbers.”
Travis gave her ear protection and showed her how to hook the end of the tape measure on a board and mark the right number. “Th
is porch is an easy job,” he said. “All the boards will be exactly the same length. Some jobs, it’s as much measuring as it is anything else; it can be tricky when every piece is a new length.” He showed her how to place a speed-square and mark a line across the board. It was distracting, being so close to her delicious smell. He wanted to caress her, but kept his touches professional, even if he couldn’t keep his lingering glances quite as reserved.
He caught more than one appraising glance in return, and several times, she licked her lips unconsciously and swallowed when their gazes crossed.
He cut the boards as she measured, and she grew easier with the task as they went, zipping out the tape measure and drawing the cut line with efficiency and confidence.
The last board, he took from her, then said, “Come cut it!”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she protested. “It’s so…loud. I’d cut off a finger or something.”
“It’s perfectly safe,” Travis assured her. He showed her the cutting guard that came down to cover the blade, and put his hands over hers to show her where to safely hold the board and how to snug it up against the cutting guide.
He put her hands on the trigger and let her rev the blade up, letting her experience how quickly it would brake when she let go and what it would sound like, then stepped back. “Go for it!”
Jenny bit her lip, scrunched her whole face in concentration, and cut the board with one smooth, slow motion.
“Oh my gosh,” she squeaked, when she had released the trigger and returned the chop saw to its upright position. “That was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done!”
Travis had to grin at her enthusiasm. He refrained from the obvious comment that her life must not be all that exciting.
She helped him carry the board to the bare deck joists and hold it in place while he screwed it into place. “Here,” he said, passing her the tool.
She took it gingerly, then stared when he didn’t make a move to take it back. “Wait, you want me to do this part? Oh, no, I’m no good at this kind of thing. I tried using a power drill once and couldn’t even get one screw in. I chipped the drywall and still couldn’t hang up my picture.” She shook her head vehemently.
“Let me introduce you to the joy that is the impact driver,” Travis said, covering her hands on the tool reassuringly. He showed her how to hold it, and what to do with the hose that snaked away from it to the air compressor. The screws had special heads that fit into a closed bit, and Travis demonstrated how to make sure the screws wouldn’t wobble as they were driven in.
Then he moved back and let Jenny try her own. At first she was ginger with the screw, then bore down with more strength, and the screw shrieked into the lumber and left a little dimple in the board.
“Wow!” Jenny exclaimed, giving Travis a sunny smile. “That was so easy!”
Travis laughed with her. “My grandmother always said that no woman needs a man if she has the right tools.”
Jenny look admiringly at the impact driver. “This is definitely the right tool,” she said, nodding.
“My grandmother was a dirty old woman, and I think she was talking about something else entirely,” Travis told her with a grin. “But it’s still very true.”
Jenny laughed, and it was the first time that Travis had seen her truly relaxed. “Can I do it again?”
He showed her how to adjust the resistance so that the screws went in just the right amount, then let her screw in the rest of the board. They brought the next piece, aligning it with spacers. He screwed in the first two, then let her go wild with the driver while he brought the next board over.
With two sets of hands, the work went very quickly, and in no time at all, they were screwing the railing back onto the new deck.
“I’ve never made anything before,” Jenny said, standing back to admire their work. “What a feeling!”
“There’s nothing like it,” Travis said, but he wasn’t looking at the deck.
She looked up to catch his gaze. “There really isn’t,” she agreed.
Travis didn’t stop to ask permission this time, taking the invitation in her eyes as consent. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her with all the passion in his loins.
Chapter 16
Jenny had read plenty of romance novels. She knew all the best descriptions for kisses and things more intimate. She was guilty of lingering over scenes of tenderness and the sweet nothings that the heroes would murmur as they caressed their lovers.
But romance writers, she realized in that moment, knew nothing.
It wasn’t weak knees and gentle words. It was raw and animal, an utterly primal power that made every nerve ending in her body come alive with the touch of his lips on hers. It was need and strength, in the feel of his sweat-beaded muscles under her fingers. For a moment, she wished she still had claws, because she wanted to sink into that flesh and claim him as her own.
His fingers were impossibly strong, pulling at her shoulders, kneading at her waist, and Jenny wondered if she would have bruises that wouldn’t show on her dark skin. She wanted bruises. She wanted marks of their lovemaking, and when Travis groaned and tried to gentle his hands, she pressed harder into him.
“The deck,” she hissed near his ear. “I want to make love on the deck we built.”
Her breath left her lungs as Travis lifted her effortlessly and carried her onto the new deck, laying her sensibly in the only bit of shade. The morning had gotten unexpectedly hot, and already, her entire body was moist with sweat.
It made every touch electric, and as wet as her body was, between her legs was a wetter place still. Travis peeled off her soaking underwear, and pulled her dress off over her head in one musical move. He was shucking off his own clothing with an eagerness that made him almost clumsy, and Jenny drank in the sight of him.
His cock sprang out eagerly, rigid and thick. Gold-skinned muscles gleamed with dappled sunlight and perspiration, a fascinating rippling effect that made Jenny flex her hands helplessly as she waited.
She did have long to wait, then he was straddling her, spreading her legs and thrusting into her without any of the preambles of the night before.
Their previous encounter had been lovemaking, this was just fucking, and Jenny loved every moment of it. She arched up to him, crying out and clawing at the boards they had so recently screwed in. He set a brutal, desperate pace to his thrusts, growling near her ear as she panted and met every stroke.
She came like a explosion, feeling the release ripple through her entire body right to her toes. Travis slowed his motions to let the decrescendo of her orgasm last longer, then slipped entirely out of her, gritting his teeth as he paused to delay his own release and prolong their fun. Jenny gave a cry of loss as he left her, but when he had recovered his control and made a motion to resume where they had left off, she sat up and pushed him back down.
She straddled him authoritatively, holding down his thick arms as if she had any chance of keeping him in place, and he grinned at her in delight and desire.
She teased him for a long moment, just touching the end of his quivering penis with her outer folds, letting him get only the head into her places of pleasure before retreating again. She leaned over to kiss his neck, sliding teeth over his collarbone and shoulders, licking, and letting her breasts, sensitive nipples fully erect, slide over his sweat-slick chest.
He groaned and thrust his hips at her, but let her continue to hold him down, though the muscles bunched up several times as if he wished to break free.
Then, finally, she buried him into her, letting his member fill her entirely, and then held herself there. The noise he made was half delight and half agony of desire, and he bucked against her. She locked around him, keeping him from retreating for a full stroke, and kept her motions to small, torturous gyrations.
She wasn’t sure who finally gave in, whether she began the rhythmic strokes, in and out, or if he made it happen. His hands were on her hips, and she wasn’t sure when she’d let
go of his arms and put her hands on his shoulders; her world was reduced to the friction and pressure and throb of the pleasure he was raising inexorably in her.
When she came again, he did as well, and Jenny could feel the pulse of his release deep within her as all of his muscles turned to rock beneath her hands and her world reduced to light and completion.
When she could remember herself again, she was sprawled on top of Travis, both of them slick with sweat and other fluids, breath heavy in each others ears.
She felt satisfied. From the lobes of her ears to the heels of her feet, she was exactly where she wanted to be, her whole body feeling comfortably used.
“I think I have a splinter in my ass,” Travis told her, and the laughter came through his chest into Jenny’s ears and infected her until she couldn’t do anything but giggle helplessly, clasp her sides, and gasp for breath.
“Let’s go take a shower,” Jenny suggested, sitting up at last.
“We should have the staff house to ourselves at this time of day,” Travis said, rising to his feet and helping her up.
Jenny picked up her dress and looked down at her body. “I don’t really want to put this on,” she said.
Travis picked up his own clothing, but made no move to put any of it on. “Lucky you, the resort is clothing optional.”
Otter cheered in her head.
Jenny’s reluctance must have shown on her face, and Travis assured her, “I’ll take you around the back way. We probably won’t meet anyone.”
Jenny stood up straight. “Alright, then,” she said, putting her hand in the crook of his elbow that he offered. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”
Chapter 17
“...And then we gave the new decking a good load test,” Travis said with a grin that felt like it was going to split his face.