Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Shawn
Reconnecting
I know Jax said he would cook dinner but I enjoy cooking with him, so I help.
That he’s making my favorite dish speaks to me. Cooking has always been a love language between us. Maybe because I spent so many years not having anyone to cook with or for.
The blowjob certainly didn’t hurt my state of mind, either.
We sit on the sofa to eat with the TV on, and it starts to feel normal again between us.
Finally.
“Any news about the new pup?” I ask.
Jax shakes his head. “Todd says he’s a hard worker and the guys like him.”
“We should confiscate his phone,” I say. “Not if it’s a burner, but any his father might be able to track.”
“Good point. I can send it to a friend of mine to see if anyone comes sniffing around after it’s powered up.”
“Yeah. That’ll tell us if anyone’s searching for him.”
“Let me text Todd to tell him not to turn them on,” Jax says.
“And make sure he hasn’t already,” I add. “If he has, we need to know immediately so we can plan.”
Jax grabs his phone and shoots off a text, I’m assuming to Todd. “Funny thing is, in the campaign information I’ve seen, his father doesn’t mention Mal. Or that he himself is a shifter.”
“Not illegal to withhold that information,” I say. “Plenty of shifters don’t publicly reveal their status.”
“But they’re not running for office,” Jax says. “This guy is. Meaning he lied on official FEC paperwork, and that is highly illegal.”
“Where are you going with this?”
He shrugs. “If Randolph Sterling wants to cause trouble, we can drop that he hasn’t disclosed his shifter status. I mean, it’s not a crime rising to the level of murder, but it’s damned sure disqualifying. Especially if it comes out he’s committed tax fraud.”
“How come no one else has pointed that out yet?” I ask.
“Anyone who knows is probably securely under his paw or on his payroll. Maybe both. Either way, we don’t want him poking around our pack.
Depending on how the next couple of weeks go, I may opt to ship the pup out.
Pops and Dad are in Colorado right now, I think.
They can ask friends if we can rehome him with their pack. ”
I consider it. “They do have a huge territory.”
“Yeah. Rugged. Lots of places to hide where even other shifters would have a damned difficult time finding him.”
“Probably wouldn’t hurt for us to buy more land around here,” I say. “I know we don’t ‘need’ it, but the larger the buffer, the safer we all are. Might as well pull the trigger on those parcels we’ve been looking at.”
He nods. “Very true. I might need to talk with the other packs sooner rather than later about formulating a tactical response plan. Sterling can cause a lot of trouble for us—shifters in general—if he decides to throw his weight around more than he already has.”
After dinner, I help Jax clean the kitchen and we retreat to the hot tub to snuggle without turning on the lights.
“I’m really sorry, babe.” He nuzzles the top of my head. “I fumbled this one big time. Thank you for forgiving me.”
Closing my eyes, I inhale and breathe him in. I mean, him and some chlorine from the steamy water bubbling around us.
But him.
“I need you to keep me in the loop, Jax. You can’t shut me out. We’re a team. And if you love and respect me, you’ll treat me like a partner, not like a fragile human who needs to be managed. All I want is the truth.”
When I lean in and kiss him, the world quickly falls away around us.
I truly feel sorry for humans and shifters who don’t feel mate bonds.
Jax and I aren’t perfect—as this incident proves—but when I can feel his heart and soul and every fiber of his being existing for me the way I can right now, it reminds me how blessed I am my path led here.
Even with all the heartache I experienced, even the years of loneliness, the forced solitude.
Worth.
It.
I straddle his lap and drape my arms around his neck. Between us, his erection fully stiffens, and it only takes me a moment to impale myself to the root and set a slow, sultry rhythm that finishes hardening me.
Dark embers swirl in his blue gaze, starry midnight and far-away galaxies. His hands settle on my hips, fingers tensing and flexing, digging in a little in a pleasant way that always fires my need.
“You first,” he says, his deep voice vibrating through my chest in a husky rumble. “I want to feel you.”
It might take a little while because I already popped once, but I know how much he enjoys it.
I mean, obviously I do, too, but his looks are for me alone and something I never have to share.
Jealousy isn’t something I feel very often, but in this way I never have to, because I know he’s all mine the way I’m all his where it counts.
We’re joined at the souls and that thick tone, that needy, possessive, heated gaze boring through me—that’s only for me.
It’s never the way he looks at or talks to anyone else.
Losing myself in my growing need and the way he starts urging me to ride him harder, faster, starts my climb. Every stroke of that magnificent cock of his perfectly glides over my sweet spot and he knows it.
His lips curl in a sexy sneer. “Got you where I want you now, don’t I, baby?”
I’m too deep to answer. All I want is to chase my pleasure and feel him get off inside me.
There were times in our early days, after my initiation, where we’d spend days at a time locked inside riding each other to exhaustion, collapse, sleep, wake up, eat, hydrate, and climb all over each other again.
It took us several weeks to level out to a point where we could function outside of each other’s presence for more than a few hours at a time.
And I loved staying naked when we were alone because he’d frequently grab me and bend me over any available surface to fuck me.
His possessive hunger alone could shoot me over the edge, sometimes hardening me again even before he finished just for him to remain inside me, reach around me, and jerk me off.
Over the years, one of his favorite things has become this—making me get my nut simply from riding him. I slant my lips over his again, closing my eyes and groaning as he squeezes my ass, holding on.
Never letting me go.
Another thing I’m glad about—we’re both shifters and will live long lives, Goddess willing. I won’t say sad goodbyes to my love anytime soon, and I am damned determined to make good use of all our time together.
When he lets out another low, rumbling growl it finishes me off. My balls tighten and it only takes a couple of strokes before I’m coming and he starts fucking himself into me to catch up and finish as close as he can with me. Our kisses turn sweet, gentle, playful nips and nuzzles.
He cups the back of my head and presses my forehead to his. “I love you so fucking much,” he hoarsely says. “I’m the luckiest asshole on the planet. Please don’t let me screw up our kids.”
I thread my fingers through his hair. “Guys who are bad fathers never worry as much as you do that they’ll screw up their children.”
“Are you using logic on me?”
I smile. “I’m trying to, if you’d get the fuck out of your own damned way.”
That coaxes a laugh from him. “Thank you, baby.”
After a shower, we retreat to bed, but there won’t be more sex tonight. We’re too exhausted—and sated—to do more than cuddle once we set our morning alarms.
“If you ever don’t want to participate in stuff—”
I cut him off. “If I don’t want to do something, I am adult enough to speak up,” I assure him.
“I love that you’re in charge. I love that you’re my mate.
But if I could change one thing about you, it’s that you could see yourself the way we all see you and convince you that you are not a bad guy by any metric.
Randolph Sterling isn’t a fraction of the man you are in any measurable way. ”
He sighs. “Goddess, I hope you never get sick of me.”
“Just remember that when I’m pregnant and whiny.”
That earns me another laugh. “I will go midnight shopping and change diapers and do anything else you need.”
And I know those aren’t just pretty words, but a genuine promise.
“I just need you to love and trust me,” I say.