My UnTrue Love (A Kinda Fairytale #7)

Chapter Twenty-One

The cy’ote’s True Love panned all day,

Prospecting hard for gold,

Disaster too soon came her way,

From what her mate had sold.

Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”

Bill needed time to adjust to married life.

Clementine was convinced of that. She couldn’t pressure him for sex, no matter how much lust was coursing through her own body, because he wasn’t ready for it. The poor man probably felt overwhelmed. In part, he’d become her husband hoping to further his career and somehow he was still unemployed. That was enough to upset anyone.

She risked a quick look his way.

Bill was stretched out on the mattress beside her, gazing up at the nightlight horses. His arms were folded behind his head. He didn’t look overwhelmed. He looked utterly relaxed.

…He also looked utterly gorgeous. His shirt was off, so all he was wearing were long drawstring pants. There was a very interesting band of paler-gold skin around his hips, where the waistband dipped lower than his usual jeans. Clem found that fascinating.

“I could probably try sleeping without the nightlight.” She offered.

The darkness wasn’t so overwhelming with him close. That was why she hadn’t volunteered to go back to her own room. Well, it was a bit of the reason. A very, very small bit. The much bigger part was Clem’s desire for her new husband, which she was completely ignoring, because she was giving him time.

Her eyes wandered back to that fascinating band of skin.

“I like the nightlight.” His gaze stayed on the ceiling, where the shadow rodeo endlessly twirled. “I like horses.”

He was a cowboy, through and through.

She squirmed, because it was impossible not to be turned on by his aura of competence and virility. The idea of his solid, muscular weight pressing down on her body had been buzzing around in her head all day. She just knew it would feel exhilarating to lie beneath him.

“Um…” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about your interview not working out.”

He lifted a shoulder in a “what can you do?” sort of shrug. “Jobs just seem to come and go, by the day. I’m gettin’ used to it.”

“It’s unfair that they hired you and then fired you so quickly. And banning us from the racetrack forever was a complete overreaction. You only hit that dumb bear once.”

“I’d of hit him more, if he wasn’t on his way to the hospital.”

“I just don’t understand why people keep dragging you into fights.” Clementine shook her head. “I know they’re jealous of your talent, but why react with aggression? You’re such an even-tempered man. I know it must hurt your feelings.”

“At least nobody called your brother to arrest me, this time. I’d hate to have spent my wedding night in jail.”

“It’s admirable that you can always look on the bright side of things, Bill. Honestly, you’re better off not working for such crabby people. The racetrack might stymie your outgoing nature.”

“Outgoing, huh?”

“Well, not in the sense where you talk a lot or make friends easily, but --you know-- outgoing in the way your eyes are always so bright and interested in things. You see a lot happening in the world, even if you don’t talk about it. You’re just kind of quietly filing information away.”

His lips quirked, like he knew she was right, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Well, my outgoing self has already got a line on another place to work. With horses, too. Buffalo Roam, that big ranch outside of town, is hiring. I’ll go out there tomorrow.”

“You have to play at The Kitchen tomorrow.” It was why she didn’t drag him around to any more saloons for auditions. He’d already landed the best venue in Red River Valley.

“I don’t go on stage ‘til evening. I can do both.”

“You’ll exhaust yourself, going all the way to Buffalo Roam every morning and then back here to perform at night. I’ve made up a budget that will get us through the New Year, just on your musician’s salary and savings. We’re going to be fine . Trust me. I’m your manager. Let me worry about the bills and you worry about playing guitar. Once more people hear you, you’ll have plenty of money coming in.”

He wasn’t convinced. “A music career is nothing I’d bet my saddle on. I want you to feel secure with me. Not stressed.”

“Bill, I do feel secure. You’re the one who doesn’t realize your own potential. There is not a doubt in my mind that you’ll get me whatever I need.”

“Yeah, I will.” He said simply.

“And I’ll do the same for you. We’re partners.” Clem hesitated, because there was a much bigger elephant in the room than Bill’s doomed job hunt. “And I’m going to try to be a better partner to you. I swear.”

“Darlin’, you don’t have to change a thing, on my account. Why, I’m happy as can be. Our first date was real fun.”

“You think you’re happy, because you don’t understand how I’ve been shamelessly chasing you.”

That got him grinning. “Well, that news just makes me happier.”

“It’s not a joke! Even if you’re not mad at me about the whole racetrack fiasco… I’d for sure understand if you were mad about the wedding.”

His lips tugged up at one corner and he glanced towards their wedding picture on the wall. He’d used honest-to-God tools to hang the frame, which had done nothing to cool her ardor for him. Her husband owned tools. It was so hot.

“We both decided that we liked being married.” He reminded her.

“That was before I got you into a fight with a bear. Down deep you’re probably feeling a little resentful. It’s only natural.”

“Down deep, I’m feelin’ happy. I’m a man in tune with my emotions, so you can take my word on it.” He turned his head her way. “How you feelin’ down deep?”

“Guilty. You hired me to manage things for you, but I just made it all more complicated. I don’t want you to worry though, because I’m going to fix it.”

Pale blue eyes watched her. “We’re not getting unmarried.” The words were certain.

“Well, no.” She agreed. “An annulment would be terrible for your career.” Also, she didn’t want one and would do her best to talk him out of it. “But eventually we can maybe…”

“I don’t give a damn about my career.” He interrupted.

“It’s sweet of you to say that, but…”

“And we’re sure not gettin’ an annulment.” He went on, talking right over her protest. “Don’t think we’d qualify, seeing as how I’m gonna be consummating our marriage every day for the next fifty years.”

Clem stared at him, her heart pounding and her panties growing damp beneath her oversized nightshirt. This one was decorated with baby jub-jub birds, because somehow that t-shirt of Johnny’s had vanished. She had the sneaking suspicion a certain mischievous husband was to blame for its disappearance. “It wouldn’t be right for us to have sex.”

He paused for a beat. “Because I’m not your True Love?”

She rolled her eyes at that craziness. “No! Finding True Love is nice, I’m sure. But it doesn’t really matter to me.”

It made sense that it weighed on Bill’s mind, though. Coyotes were cursed to not have True Loves, so he was hyperaware of the deprivation. As an artist, he felt everything so intensely. Obviously, he’d long for a destined, soul-deep connection.

“Does it feel wrong to you to have a wife who isn’t your True Love?”

“No, it feels wrong that you might have a True Love out there who isn’t me.” He leaned closer to her, one long finger tracing along her leg. “It feels like I should stake my claim, before he gets here.”

“There’s no one else for me.” Her words sounded breathless, even to her ears. “True Love is some outside force acting on people. You’re my pick. That’s what matters. I made a choice to marry you, Bill. And it’s important you have a choice, as well. I know you think you’ve plumbed the recesses of your feelings, but it takes time.”

“I’ve made my choice, too. Now, I’m plumb plumbed out.”

“You’re not taking your emotional needs seriously. It’s why you’re so hesitant about opening up all the doors of our connection, I think.”

“Physical connections do seem to be taking precedence.” His gaze slipped down her body, as if he could see straight through her cartoon nightshirt. (She just had to buy some sexier lingerie, damn it.) “I can’t focus on anything but how much I want to touch you.”

She bit her lower lip, her breasts aching. No one should have a voice like Bill’s. It just wasn’t fair how every word became music. “I’ve taken advantage of you.” She stressed.

“You go right ahead and keep doin’ it, then.”

“On the night we left The Yellow Roses, I myself said it was tacky for managers to sleep with their clients.”

“What if a client sleeps with his manager?”

Clem tried to think beyond the electricity coursing through her blood, as Bill leaned closer to her. “I do consider it ethical for a muse to sleep with the artist she’s inspiring.” She blurted out. “Have you considered the ethics of that?”

“I consider sleeping with my muse, all the time. And my ethics don’t feel a twinge about it.”

“They don’t?”

“Nope. Ethical dilemmas are a specialty of mine, as a matter of fact. No matter the circumstance, I somehow find a way to keep my morals consistent.” He smiled. “My turn for a question, now.” His head dipped to her ear. “Do you really think you’re leavin’ this bed a virgin, darlin’?”

He asked that in a playfully dominant tone that her body positively melted for. It made her want to please him and also urged her to disobey, just to see what he’d do. She made a little sound of distress at the irresistible temptation he posed.

“That’s right.” Bill’s voice was all honey-coated darkness. “You know I’m never letting you go. You know you’re the only girl in the world I want for my mate.”

Clem’s whole system was on fire. She shifted a teeny bit closer to him, unable to help herself. “We have to do what’s right for you, Bill.”

“We’re about to do all sorts of ‘right things’ together.” His small smile grew bigger. Smugger. She had the uneasy feeling he could scent her arousal. Coyotes had that freaking super-smelling thing. “I’ve got some true creative inspiration.”

That didn’t sound promising. …Or maybe it sounded too promising.

Either way, Clementine was hypnotized.

Her phone rang on the nightstand, breaking the spell and giving her a much-needed distraction. There was only one person thoughtless enough to call her at midnight and talking to that dummy would douse her lust.

Bill’s eyes narrowed.

Clementine blindly reached over to grab the phone, her gaze staying on Bill’s face. “What do you want, Johnny?” She asked without checking the caller ID. She probably could’ve come up with a more gracious salutation, but she didn’t much care. “It’s late.”

“What do you mean? We’ve always been able to call each other at any hour.”

If Hank was right (and her brother was usually right) Johnny needed reassurance that she would always be his biggest supporter. Only she couldn’t offer that anymore. She couldn’t invest herself in Johnny’s career as she once had. She didn’t want to. Her devotion to building The Yellow Roses seemed very long ago.

“It’s too late.” She told him softly.

“It’s not that late. And this can’t wait. Half the town is calling me ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer-Schmidt,’ because of Bill! I’m sure he posted it on purpose.”

“Oh, I’m sure he did, too.” Clem gazed up at her husband. “Bill always knows what he’s doing.”

Bill’s eyes glinted in wicked amusement.

Clem’s core temperature skyrocketed in response.

“Rosalee’s useless.” Johnny went on, sounding pissed off at his new manager. “She let Bill’s ‘support women in music’ bullshit catch fire online.”

“Why don’t you call me back tomorrow?” Clem suggested, all her attention on Bill.

Languid and unhurried, her husband rose from the bed. She watched him with suspicion, not trusting his challenging countenance.

“It’s not fair for everything to fall on my shoulders.” Johnny seethed. “I’m only one man! You wouldn’t believe how long it’s taking me to get my new song right. It’s like I have no inspiration, at all. And now I’m supposed to be my own PR team, too?”

“Uh-huh.” Clem said vaguely. Her husband stood by the edge of the mattress, his pale eyes centered on her.

He arched a brow.

“Behave.” She mouthed at him.

Thankfully, Bill wasn’t in the mood to behave. Instead, he began untying the string holding up his soft gray pants.

Clementine forgot how to breathe. “What are you doing?” She demanded.

“I’m going to read you these stupid messages I’m getting.” Johnny groused, thinking she was talking to him. “You don’t understand the number of idiots writing me about ‘poor Bill’ and how he’s made some kind of moral stand for all womankind. These bitches are calling me sexist!”

She barely heard Johnny. For a few heartbeats, she managed not to look below Bill’s waist, but it was just too tempting. Her eyes drifted down to stare at Bill’s rigid manhood.

“Oh.” A small sound escaped her.

He was completely naked and completely aroused. For her. And there was so much of him. Her eyes widened in amazement. No wonder he’d wanted her stretched by his fingers, earlier.

Johnny kept going, lost in his own victimhood. “Bill somehow set all this up. Vulture Valente has Susannah Alabama’s text messages to me! No way did that just randomly happen, right after Bill was pressing me about my relationships with Susannah and Rosalee. That’s too big a coincidence.”

“Huge.” Clementine agreed, mentally calculating Bill’s dimensions. “Massive. I’m not sure how it’s ever going to fit…” She paused, belatedly processing Johnny’s words. “Wait, that gossip site has Susannah’s text messages?” Her brows lifted at her husband, suspecting one of his pranks.

“I don’t appreciate how ol’ Susannah let Johnny kick you out of the band, without saying a word of protest.” He murmured, his smirk filled with mischief and lust.

Good Lord, that expression somehow made him even hotter.

“ You’re the one who hired that guitar-playing menace.” Johnny fumed, without hearing Bill. “ You’re the one who decided to work with him. You’re the one who needs to rein him in.”

“I don’t think anyone can rein Bill in.” She answered truthfully. “He’s running wild.” Her tongue touched the corner of her mouth, as she surveyed her wild husband’s masculine form.

Bill slowly began stroking himself, while he watched her reaction.

Clementine pressed her thighs together in response to the ache that blossomed.

Bill’s head canted to one side, catching the movement. She suddenly recalled that he didn’t like it when she closed her legs to him. That made her feel naughty. She squiggled up into a sitting position, her core weeping with need and her expression defiant.

Bill liked that game. He crawled onto the bed after her.

“Make him delete his stupid post and apologize.” Johnny whined in that whining sort of way that always irritated her. “Write it for him, so it sounds good. Make sure it praises me for my feminist ally-ship or whatever, because I’m sick of being the…”

“Johnny, this isn’t a good time.” Clem interrupted. Bill was drawing closer and he took all her concentration.

“Are you even paying attention?” Johnny roared back. “Clem, this is important! I have to get this song right! It’s the one I’m going to play on Home on the Range . I won’t let Bill wreck this for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Ranger O’Rourke isn’t going to put you on his show.” Usually, Clem would have reminded him of that reality in a kinder way, but she was far too busy to be gentle with Johnny’s feelings. “Not even Mamie could convince him. Bill has nothing to do with that.”

“Ranger just needs to hear my new music.”

“Ranger doesn’t like your music.”

Bill grinned, clearly enjoying her pragmatic analysis of Johnny’s chances. His long artist’s fingers clamped around Clem’s ankle, dragging her back down the mattress. Towards him.

Clementine muffled a surprised squeak.

Johnny kept complaining. “I can’t believe how insensitive you’re acting. I’m going to get on Home on the Range, and you’re going to help me, and that’s the end of it. Be a little less selfish, for once.”

Clementine ignored that litany of grievances. She teasingly wrinkled her nose at Bill and tried to wriggle free of his hold.

“You know that’s not gonna work.” Big palms slid along the inside of her legs, opening them, and Clementine bit back a whimper. “You can’t ever escape me.”

“Is that Bill?” Johnny demanded.

“Yes.” Clem got out, although she was talking to Bill and not Johnny. The hem of her nightshirt was hiked up, revealing her damp underwear. His thumbs stroked along the soaked cotton and Clem’s eyes drifted shut in pleasure.

Bill gave an animalistic rumble of contentment and dipped his head to taste a freckle on her thigh. “Hang up now, darlin’.”

“Okay.” She agreed, but she was too overcome to actually hit the “end call” button. Bill’s tongue licked higher, and she just let the phone drop to the mattress.

Bill chuckled and began working Clem’s underwear off. She lifted her hips to help him, because it seemed insane to do otherwise. She wanted nothing between them. Just his skin on hers. He situated himself over her prone body and she gasped at the feel of his hot flesh. She opened her legs farther to make room for his hips.

His blue eyes were aflame. “I love that nightlight bein’ on.” He breathed into her ear. “I love seein’ how gorgeous your smile is. How pretty your body looks. How responsive you are to my touch.” He nuzzled her temple. “My wife.”

If even a teeny bit of Clementine was still trying to resist him, it vanished under his praise. “Bill.” She whispered wantonly.

“Clem?” Johnny’s voice sounded tinny and distant. “Hello? Did we get cut off?”

Bill maneuvered over Clementine’s eager body. She relished the feel of his weight on top of her. Who could have predicted it would feel that exhilarating?

Oh, that’s right, she did!

And it was even better than she imagined. She nibbled on his collarbone, just because she could, loving how he blanketed her whole body.

Bill paused to kiss her deeply, before grabbing the phone himself. “Howdy, John.” He said and he sounded out of breath.

Some part of Clem knew those two talking was a Bad idea, but she was beyond caring. Just like she was beyond caring about her unperky breasts. She just wanted them pressed up against Bill. It was imperative. She struggled out of her stupid bird-covered sleepwear, grateful that she’d foregone wearing a bra. She needed to feel him. Right now.

She was in such a hurry that the fabric got stuck. “Shoot!”

“What’s going on?” Johnny asked indignantly. “Where’s Clem?”

Bill held the phone between his shoulder and ear to help her out of the nightgown. “She’s right here with me, of course.”

Johnny apparently saw that as an opportunity to launch into another diatribe. “You’re nothing but an insane stalker!” He ranted at maximum volume. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to? I know you tricked Clementine into being your muse. I know you told the whole internet my real name. I know you’re the one who sent those texts to Vulture Valente. I know you’re the one who got me nominated to the Red River Gazette’s Worst Dressed List.”

Clem snorted in amusement, because that last prank was a new one.

“To be fair, John, I think it was that fringe coat you wear that got you nominated.” Bill wrestled Clementine free of her nightshirt. The fabric went flying and his scorching gaze roamed all over her soft, pillow-y breasts.

She’d always expected to feel uncomfortable about being naked with a man, but there wasn’t much room for shyness with Bill. He wanted to see everything and he liked everything he saw, even the saggy, pudgy parts. She could tell.

Clem preened under his worshipful gaze.

Blue eyes glinted with that magical, electric light. The coyote was fully awake inside of him. Participating in this. Obsessed with her. She recalled reading someplace that shifter- species sometimes transformed into their other forms during sex. She gave a whimper of desire at the idea.

His answering smile was savage and dangerous and wonderful .

“You’re not going to beat me, you son of a bitch!” Johnny proclaimed grandly. “You don’t understand the history I share with Clementine.”

“Well, you go right ahead and enjoy that history, John. I’ll be having her future.”

Johnny didn’t appreciate Bill’s confident promise. “Put her back on the phone, now . We’re right in the middle of something.”

“Why, we’re right in the middle of something, too.” Bill’s once-in-a-generation voice was rougher than usual, and it did crazy things to Clem’s insides. He stopped touching her just long enough to grab a tube of lubricant off of his nightstand.

“Where did that come from?” She asked.

“I bought it just for you. You wanna see how it works?”

She bobbed her head, her eyes wide.

“Put Clem back on!” Johnny repeated loud enough that Clementine winced at his screaming.

“Oh, she’s powerful busy.” Bill seemed supremely unconcerned about Johnny’s anger. His graceful palm was coated in gel and back between her legs, parting her sensitive flesh like he owned it. “I’m requiring her undivided attention.” Two long fingers sank into her heat.

Clementine saw stars at the territorial caress. It worked great! The lubricant helped her body stretch for him. She grinned, excited and flushed.

Bill made a low sound of approval.

“Your problems will have to wait, Bill.” Johnny wasn’t giving up on his bid for attention. “Clem needs to prioritize her best friend. That’s me and everybody knows it. And what the fuck are you doing with her so late at night?”

Bill stroked his fingers in and out of Clementine’s body, watching the way she arched into his touch. “Well, it’s our wedding night, John. What do you think I’m doing with my new bride?” He disconnected on Johnny’s horrified shriek.

Clementine blinked, trying to think. Hang on… “Johnny is terrible with secrets. He’s gonna tell half the town we’re married.”

“Ya know, that occurred to me, as well.” Bill agreed casually. There was a satisfied glow about him as he bent down to nip the side of Clem’s neck. “But it’s alright. I can tell the other half myself.” His thumb was doing something absolutely magical, rubbing right where she most needed relief.

Her thoughts scattered like marbles on a tile floor. She twisted, wanting even more. Wanting to escape the torment.

“Nooooo.” Bill drew out the word as a croon. “You’re caught, baby. And I like you right where you are.” He held her still and she saw wisps of icy-blue mist rising up from his skin. The coyote was definitely awake and partially out. All parts of Bill were engaged in this. Claiming her.

“Please.” She begged helplessly.

“Please who? Who am I?”

“My husband.”

He liked that. A lot. “Oh fuck yes…” He groaned and kissed her, like he just couldn’t resist.

Clementine felt a surge of power. The man was just as affected as she was. “You know, we’ve only been on one date.” She got out, just to be Bad. “You think I’m the kind of muse who has sex on the first date?”

“I think you’re being ornery again.” He brushed some spot deep inside of her that she hadn’t even known existed. “You know what happens to ornery girls.”

Her body was awakening beneath his touch. Her legs began to quiver with the force of her desire. It threatened to overwhelm her. She instinctively tried to close them to evade the tidal wave of sensation, but Bill’s hand wouldn’t let her.

“Nope.” He held her open, so she experienced each stroke. “I warned you this morning, didn’t I? I said if you shied away from my fingers again, we’d have to graduate to something bigger.”

Her eyes automatically slipped down to his huge erection, and then jumped back up to his face.

“Yep.” He confirmed with a sympathetic nod. “You brought it all on yourself. Now, we’ll go slow, but you’re gonna have to take every inch.”

“I’ve wanted this, ever since I met you.” She blurted out. “It’s crazy how much time I spend, picturing us together in very Bad ways.”

His grin was an artistic masterpiece. “That is music to my ears, wife.”

“I’m just a little bit nervous, is all. I don’t think I got the muses genes that make us super-confident at sex.”

“You don’t have to be nervous.” His lips brushed hers. “You and me are supposed to be right here. I’ve imagined us together, too. So many times. Don’t worry. I’m a Bad man, but I can be a Good mate.”

His fingers touched her deeper than ever before and Clem let out a desperate moan. She relaxed her thighs, opening to his demands. Yeah… Bill would make sure it was right for her. She trusted him implicitly.

“That’s perfect, darlin’.” He murmured, all but purring at her willing surrender. “You just tell me if you feel stressed and we’ll take a break.”

She felt a lot of things. Stressed wasn’t one of them. “Bill.” She breathed in wonder, as he sent her desire higher and higher. With her legs fully parted, he was taking everything and giving even more. Devastating pleasure short-circuited her brain.

“You’re so beautiful. I’ve never seen a prettier girl in my whole life. You make me so happy.” He leaned down to kiss her again, deep and hungry. “I can’t believe you’re really mine.”

His possessive, appreciative words were just too much. They made her feel desirable and protected and sent her over the edge.

“Bill!” She wailed his name, her eyes squeezing shut in bliss. Her core clenched around his fingers and the orgasm ripped through her. The force of it had her back bowing off the bed. “Oh God… Bill. ”

He was already moving. He positioned himself, before her body stopped shaking. “Look at me, Clem.” The words were a snarl of passion.

She somehow focused on his face, which was kind of a miracle in her current state. His eyes were illuminated now, shining a vivid, coyote-blue. Another ripple of pleasure rocked her and she cried out.

“That’s right. Give me everything. I want it all.”

The phone rang again.

Clem made a dismayed sound at the interruption.

Bill gave an impatient growl. He declined the call by smashing the cellphone to pieces. He also crushed one side of the nightstand in the process. Bits of plastic and wood hit the carpet, as Bill’s fist hammered the phone straight into the top of the small table.

Shit.

That was insanely sexy.

“Never mind about him.” Bill kept his attention on her flushed face. “You just focus on what I’m doin’.”

It was literally impossible to focus on anything else.

Clementine leaned up to kiss him, her tongue tangling with his. He was an amazing kisser. Everything about him was amazing. Her hands trailed down his back to touch his amazing ass, because she’d been desperate to touch it for so long. She used the amazing sides of it as handles to drag him even closer to her.

Bill swore, but the sound wasn’t displeased. It was frantic. His mouth opened over hers, as if he was going to die without the taste of her. “I can’t wait, Clem. You ready for me?”

His whole body trembled under her caress, and she realized how much power she wielded over such a strong man. “I’ve been ready for you my whole life.”

That was all he needed to hear.

Clementine’s words turned to a gasp, when his steely erection surged into her. “Oh!” Her nails dug into his back, too far gone to even realize it might hurt him.

Bill didn’t seem to notice the scratches, anyway. “ Fuck .” He let out a guttural groan that was also a half-laugh. “It’s a goddamn miracle I didn’t have to kill more men to have you. If they knew how perfect you felt, I’d be in high noon showdowns seven days a week.” He began to rock his hips, stretching her with his girth.

Clem instinctively stiffened. She trusted him, but…

“I know it feels tight. That’s because you’re tight, baby. You can handle all of me, though. I know you can.”

She wanted to obey his erotic demand, but she wasn’t sure how this could possibly work. Even with the added lubricant he felt enormous.

“Nobody’s ever done to you what I’m doing, have they?” He didn’t relent in his slow invasion, his words soothing in her ear. “Nobody else ever will. We’re gonna fit just fine. Relax for me.”

Clem wasn’t sure how to do that. She looked away, trying to adjust, even when she felt filled to overflowing. But he was right. It wasn’t enough. She tried to relax her inner muscles to accept more of him.

“There we go!” He kissed her temple. “You’re doing so Good.” His hand was rubbing at the entrance of her body, sending little shocks of pleasure through her and easing her tension. “I’m so proud of you.”

Her eyes turned back to his, her confidence returning.

“Beautiful.” He smiled, but there was a savage edge to it. “I’ll take care of you. You just let me in, where I belong now.”

He did belong there. He belonged as close to her as possible.

“My mate.” He cupped her cheek in his palm, as he finally filled her completely. His eyes were electrified with passion and something much bigger. “Be with me forever. Please, Clem. I need you so much.”

Clementine’s heart glowed. That was the best thing Bill had ever said to her. It gave her hope that maybe he wasn’t too miserable that she’d pressured him into marriage.

Before she could come up with a suitably thoughtful response, her gentle new husband tangled a fist in her hair and began proving he could make her body do whatever he wanted. All her hesitant fear vanished, and she was lost in a blaze of heat.

“Bill!” Clementine’s feet wound around the backs of his legs, her toes gripping at his calves. The blue mist of his coyote-self was coating his body now, helping to cool her overheated flesh. It was like touching magic.

All of it was so much more than she’d ever imagined. Clementine loved Bill, so she’d assumed she’d love sex with him. But holy moly! She really loved it. She loved the sounds and the scents, and the taste of his skin. She loved all the sensations swamping her. She loved the feel of him so deep inside.

Her dazed eyes locked with his, seeing all the different parts of him. The coyote and the man and the artist and the friend and the husband. The Good and the Bad. Everything.

“There’s not a chance in this world I will ever give you up.” Bill’s long musician’s fingers were threaded through her hair. “I can’t, Clem. I just can’t .”

“I know.” And she did. Bill didn’t need time. He needed reassurance. She suddenly understood that. “Don’t worry. I’m here to stay.”

Clem had a distant glimmer that something still wasn’t quite perfect. That some part of their union wasn’t snapping together as it should, even though it was so clear and right and true . But she was too lost in the moment to examine what the vague problem might be. The feel of Bill inside of her eclipsed every other thought.

His kisses somehow turned even more ravenous. “Come for me, again. I want to feel it happen all around me.”

His voice pushed her over the edge. Deep and rumbling and melodic, filled with emotion and power. It always sounded magical to her, but when he used it like that , there was just no way to hold on. Clem was a goner.

Her over-sensitized flesh spasmed, again. She felt her inner muscles tighten on Bill, pulling him deeper in long, undulating waves, as her second orgasm hit. It was even stronger than the first, making her twist and wail beneath him.

“Holy God…” He choked out and then he was coming, too. Endlessly filling her. He continued to thrust through his release, his glowing eyes fixed on her face. “Clem… My God …”

She went limp with boneless exhaustion, her body sinking into the mattress. Bill collapsed down on top of her, his elbows braced so he didn’t crush her.

For a long moment, there was silence.

When Clem regained the ability to hear and speak, she immediately realized Bill was too quiet. He was a man who liked to praise her and tease her and talk to her when she was in his arms. If he wasn’t playing then something was wrong.

Sure enough, she could feel tension entering his body. He was still holding her tight, with his head buried in her hair, but he was clearly not floating on a cloud of post-coital bliss.

Clem sighed. As she’d suspected, his feelings weren’t yet in tune. She’d tried to warn him, but he’d been too caught up in artistic passion. “Bill? Honey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He said quickly. “I just…” He trailed off and sat up, a strange look on his face. “I just didn’t expect it to be that way.”

Her own emotions and insecurities took over. “Did I not do okay?”

He started, his head swiveling around to look at her. “What?”

“It was the first time I ever tried sex. I’m sure I’ll get better at it.”

That drew a rusty-sounding laugh. “You honestly think that can get better? ”

“I mean,” she shrugged, “I thought it was close to perfect.”

Now, he seemed a little insulted. “Close? How ‘close’?”

“About eighty-nine percent perfect?” Clem guesstimated.

“Eighty-nine?!”

“Well, I don’t have anything to compare it to. What do you think?”

“I think I lost myself.” His tone was oddly serious. “I honestly don’t remember ever having sex without you, Clementine. I don’t remember ever touching anyone but you.”

That almost sounded like a compliment.

Except Bill didn’t seem pleased. He seemed worried. “I knew it would be good. I just didn’t quite get how good.”

“Like eighty-nine percent good?”

“It was perfect!” He scraped a hand through his hair. “Fuck, you are perfect . I felt like I was gonna die if I couldn’t have you. Like nothing else mattered but being consumed in your fire. Like I needed you…” He stopped short and gave his head a shake.

“Bill?”

“I was out of control. I must’ve been. Jesus, I coulda hurt you, caught up as I was.” He quickly scanned her body. “Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

“You weren’t rough, at all. …Well, not with me, anyway. I can’t speak for my poor phone.”

Bill looked towards the decimated mess that used to be the nightstand, as if he’d only just recalled its murder. “Shit.” He muttered, looking embarrassed. He clearly hadn’t meant to use so much strength against their innocent furniture. “I’m sorry. I’ll, um,” he scrubbed a chagrined hand through his hair, “I’ll buy you another phone tomorrow.”

Clementine gave him an exaggeratedly sad frown. “I don’t see how we can afford it, considering you’re always jobless.”

Bill’s head whipped around to gape at her.

She shrugged, her gaze sparkling.

He started chuckling. “Hell, you really are perfect.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Thank God I married you, before you wised up and left me.”

Clementine kissed him back, happy that her teasing had calmed him. “I’m not going to leave you, Bill. I promise.” She nodded towards the nightstand. “But no more breaking stuff, okay? It’s too risky.”

“Never again.” His expression was eloquent. “I am so sorry, if I scared you. I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Clem. I…”

“No, you didn’t scare me.” She interrupted with a roll of her eyes. “We can always get more furniture. But crushing things is just too risky for your beautiful hands.”

Bill’s laughter was better than music.