“I screamed too.” She paused and seemed to consider. “Maybe it was more a howl than a scream.” She thought a bit more, then shook her head. “Either way, it had nothing to do with pain,” she assured him.
Floored, he could do nothing but stare—again. “What are you saying?”
Her face turned red. Was Shay…blushing? He didn’t think she knew how.
Turning her head, she gazed over his shoulder and mumbled something.
“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”
She huffed and drilled her gaze into his. “I said I liked it, okay? And if you dare laugh, you’d better learn to sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future.”
It took a minute for the meaning of her words to sink in. Then another minute or two for his perception of his world to readjust. She wasn’t hurt? She’d actually liked the brutal way he’d claimed her in front of his men? Enjoyed it even?
Slowly a cocky grin spread across his face.
Shay slapped the arm of the recliner. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you!”
“What? I didn’t laugh,” he protested, still grinning with delight.
She glared at him. “No, you’re smirking. It’s annoying as hell.”
As she set the nearly empty bowl on the nearby side table and lowered the foot of the chair, the realization struck that his mate, the woman he loved, wasn’t leaving. She wanted to stay—with him. He’d given her a prime opportunity to escape, and she hadn’t taken it. Never mind the contract. Shay had to know he wouldn’t have held her to it if he was the one forcing her to leave. She hadn’t even mentioned it, and as in demand as her services were, he knew she didn’t need the money from him. No, she was here because she wanted to be.
The wonder of it all astonished him, and a surge of lust hit him so hard he almost fell to his knees under the force of it.
Shay rose regally from the chair and sauntered up to him. When she was inches away, she smiled, an evil and malicious grin. That was the only warning he got before her booted foot slammed down on top of his bare toes.
“O-o-o-w! What the hell was that for?” he roared as he hopped on one leg, cradling his abused and crushed foot in his hands, the other hand instinctively leaping to protect the family jewels in case the crazy woman decided to knee his dangling balls.
“For involving my cousin in our business, asshole.” She kicked the shin of his standing leg with what felt like steel in the toe of her boots and shoved, upsetting his already tenuous balance. “And that’s for calling me a bitch.”
As he crashed to the wood floor, she stepped around him, pausing as she reached the archway to call out, “Take a bath; you stink.”
She walked out of the room humming a happy tune, leaving him on the floor cursing. And to think, mere seconds ago he’d been happy to see the little she-devil. He must have lost his mind.
Much later, after showering—damn, he had been a bit odorous—and eating the food Shay had so considerately—considering the way she’d attacked him earlier—cooked and left in the microwave for him, he climbed naked into the bed beside his mate as she read some information technology magazine.
“You stayed,” he marveled again, now that his toes and shin were no longer throbbing with pain.
“Yeah…well…” She floundered. “I’m not that easy to be rid of.” She set the publication aside and turned off the lamp.
They lay silently in the dark, two almost-strangers connected by the child growing in her womb and the fragile bond getting stronger between them.
Shay’s voice broke the silence. “Who were those two guys?”
Instantly jealousy arose. “Why?”
“Considering you fucked me silly in front of them, I think it only fair that I know their names.”
He grunted, knowing she had a valid point. Grudgingly he responded, “The one with the dreads is Caleb, my second. The big, burly guy is MacDougal, my third.” At the thought of Mac, Rory remembered his borderline defiance. The man hadn’t outright challenged him. He was too savvy for that, but his small displays of disrespect could be just as much, if not more, detrimental to his position as alpha.
“Do they make a habit of walking in without knocking?” Shay asked.
Still pondering his options, Rory absently answered, “This is the pack’s house, and we’re their alphas. All are always welcome here.”
“Hmm…”
Rory rolled to the center of the bed and tugged Shay until her back was flush with his chest. The events of the day catching up with him, he yawned and blinked tiredly. He snuggled closer and buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent filled his nostrils. Soothed by her presence, he drifted off to sleep.
Shayla woke, lying on her stomach, facedown in the pillows. There was a heavy weight on her. Rory was using her as a pillow. She could hear and feel his breath on her back. Her bare back.
Where was the nightshirt she’d come to bed in?
Then a more disturbing realization occurred. There was something wet on her skin. Almost like…
“Ew ew ew ew ew! Get it off me!” she shrieked.
Rory shot up, braced protectively on his forearms above her. “What! Huh! Where?” Glancing over her shoulder, she could see his head twisting to and fro as he tried to determine the source of the threat.
“Get. It. Off,” she snarled. Shay shifted to reach her hand behind her to point at the offensive material—no way was she touching it—and it began to travel. Shuddering in disgust, she added, “Now!”
He looked at where she was pointing. “That? That’s what you’re carrying on about? It’s just a bit of drool.”
Offended, she asked, “Do you know how many germs are in the human mouth?”
The mattress shifted as Rory settled on his side next to her, head propped on his hand as he studied her. “You don’t mind my germs when I’m kissing you, or when my mouth is between your thighs. Hell, I’ve had my cock in your mouth and you didn’t complain. What’s the big deal?”
“It’s spit. On my skin. It’s disgusting,” she gritted out between her teeth. It was crazy, she knew, but she had a thing about other people’s saliva being anywhere on her body. “Wipe it off, please,” she gritted out.
Instead he took a finger and drew circles in it.
“Stop that!” She wanted to slap his arm, but if she moved, it would travel.
“Babies drool, Shay, especially when they’re teething. On your neck, face, the hand that they gnaw on. What are you going to do when it’s our cub? Freak out like you’re doing now?” he asked curiously.
Shay tried to hide the shudder of revulsion that went through her body. That was a major reason she didn’t do babies and puppies. They both slobbered. It was enough to make her gag. “I’m not freaking out. I just don’t want your disgusting body fluid on me,” she countered.
He sighed. “You’re not making sense. Cum is also body fluid, and I spewed it all over your back.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “I can still smell it on you. That tells me you didn’t wash it off. What’s the difference?”
The difference was she didn’t have a phobia about sperm. No, she didn’t have any phobia. She didn’t fear anything. It was totally normal to dislike spit, especially when it was on her person. “Never mind. I’ll get it off myself.”
She eased to the edge of the bed, trying to keep her back as straight as possible. Shay managed to get one foot onto the floor before she felt the insidious slide of fluid in the crease of her spine. She immediately froze. Her stomach lurched and she whimpered. Swallowing hard, she bit back her pride and pleaded, “Rory, please, please clean it off me. I’ll repay you however you say, only you have to get it off.”