Chapter 12 #2
She reaches up and undoes the top button, trailing her finger down my pecs to the next one.
Her skin is warm, her touch light enough to send shivers down my abs as they crunch and flex in response to her.
Never looking away, she pulls each button slowly open, then undoes the tiny zippers along my shoulder blades, separating the front piece from the back.
It falls off around my wings, and she grabs the shirt, laying it over her forearm as she quirks a brow upward.
“What would you like to try on next, Mister Alkazar?”
I slide my thumbs into the belt loops of the jeans, pulling them low enough to reveal the vee of my abs. It doesn’t take a genius to see she loves that by the way she nips her lower lip. Her heart’s galloping along, and I’m having fun.
“Do you think these fit me, Bluebell? Wanna come measure again? I think I’ve gotten a little bigger since we did this…” I run a thumb along the waistband, tugging it low enough to reveal the faintest hint of pubic hair.
“Fuck,” she whispers. “You’re killing me, Alk.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I’m having a shitload of fun teasing you.”
“How long are you going to torture me for,” she quips, slapping my bare stomach. “Don’t you have a game this afternoon?”
I flare my wings wide, loving how her eyes follow the movement, admiration obvious in the way her gaze softens.
She turns from me and grabs another shirt. “Here, try this one on next.”
For half an hour, I slip in and out of clothing.
She nitpicks the fit on several of the pieces, but most of them are perfect.
We agree to send a few pieces back. I should be able to get them in a few days.
When it’s time to leave for the game, I can barely drag myself out of the store.
Thank fuck it’s a home game, and she’ll be there.
When I linger too long, she shoves me toward the front door.
“Don’t be late! I don’t need to end up in the Gulch Gossip as the reason you can’t ever be on time to a game! I’ll hold everything here and you can pick it up after, or whenever.”
Trailing my fingers along her jawline, I brush my thumb over her lower lip. “I’m not gonna kiss you right now because I don’t want to rush when we have our first kiss, Bluebell. But after the game tonight? We’re stealing away. and I’m taking that kiss.”
She lifts her chin and nuzzles into my touch. “Alright, Hadrian.”
“Not only that,” I watch her snuggle against me, “but I want to remind you that your friendship is one of the most important things to me in the whole world. I’ll always protect that, Bluebell, alright?”
“Deal,” she whispers. “Whatever we do, we’ve always got that first, right?”
“Always,” I whisper as I stare into those beautiful blue eyes. “And that’s never changing.”
* * *
Hours later, Coach Shorthorn screams out a warning as a big minotaur player from the other team barrels into me, one of my wing bones crunching under the female’s enormous weight.
I’m distracted, and I can’t let that happen.
But the only thing on my mind is Bluebell Tucker and the fact I decided teasing was the thing to do.
Except I’m edging myself into oblivion as much as I’m edging her, and I don’t think I can take much more.
The Punishers barely eke out a win, but when I head to the Tucker bench, Bluebell’s not there. Mr. and Mrs. Tucker embrace me, and I get high-fives from all the Jays.
“Where’s Bluebell?” I look around, still surprised she’s not in her usual seat.
Jasper shrugs. “It ain’t like her to miss a game. I tried calling her but didn’t get an answer. She’s probably just up to her eyeballs in boxes at the Bodice. She’s been over there most of today, far as I know.” His focus drops once more to the level-three mastery textbook propped on his thighs.
I nod, knowing I can’t ask much more about it right now, but I’m worried. I don’t think she’s ever missed a home game the entire time I’ve known her. She doesn’t answer when I put my comm watch on and call her.
After the game, the team wants to hit up Lizard Lick Saloon for post-game brews. I agree to go because Jasper and Jack want to, but it’s my intention to slip out the moment they get drunk enough not to notice. It doesn’t take long, and it’s good for me to get in a little bit of time with the team.
Half an hour into it, I slip out the side door and jog across Main Street to the Bodice. The front door’s locked, but I stroke my fingers down the glass pane.
“Sweet girl. Is she in there? I need to get in and make sure she’s okay.”
The building creaks, but the lock unclicks. Clicking the handle, I push my way inside, shut the door, and lock it behind me. A faint heartbeat is my indication that Bluebell’s still here.
Then I hear the sniffling.
Sprinting to the back of the building, I run into the storeroom and slide to a halt when I find her in the middle of the floor surrounded by mountains of shoe boxes.
Most of them are open, shoes spilled out all over the floor.
Some of the other stored items that looked to be in order earlier are now askew and in random piles.
And in the middle of it all, Bluebell’s on the floor sobbing. Her eyes are red-rimmed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Dropping to my knees, I slide boxes out of the way until I can pull her between my thighs. I tuck soaked hair behind her ears as I scan her for any injuries.
“Baby, what happened? Talk to me.”
She waves around at the building, brows furrowed.
“I thought we were making so much progress, but then I tried reorganizing something, and she threw the hissy fit of the century and tossed this shit everywhere. I have had it up to here with this godsdamn building!” Grabbing a box, she tosses it at the wall and screams, “Screw you!”
Looking back at me, Bluebell yanks a soggy piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to me.
“And look at this damn to-do list, Alk. I had so much to get done before the game, and I didn’t manage any of it.
The Mead Cute Festival is coming up, and I was supposed to finalize a couple things because I’m on the fucking organizing committee, and oh my fricking gods, I didn’t even make it to the game! ”
Lurching forward, she throws her arms around my neck and buries her face just beneath my ear, sobs racking her frame. Her body’s tense and tight in my arms as I slip them around her, holding her close with my nose against her neck.
“I’m here,” I whisper, placing a tender kiss just beneath her ear.
She shudders, squeezing me tighter. Her sobs don’t slow when I hold her close, dragging my mouth down her neck to her shoulder. I place tender, soft kisses on her exposed skin.
“Let it out, Blue, then we’ll tackle this together if you want. I’m here,” I whisper against her soft, warm skin. “I’m here…”
The better part of ten minutes passes before her crying slows. She’s shaking in my arms and covered in goosebumps, although her racing heart eventually slows. Her pain is tangible, its taste sour in my mouth as I continue kissing my way up and down her neck and shoulder.
I just mean to reassure her, but as the crying stops, she begins angling her head to the side to give me more space.
Staring at her exposed, creamy neck, I wonder if it’s entirely purposeful.
When her arms tighten around me, I decide this is exactly the opening we both need, and maybe what she’s telling me is that she wants the connection.
Dropping my jaws slightly open, I close my mouth around the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, pricking her slightly with my teeth.
Bluebell jolts in my arms, letting out a soft moan that unleashes me.
Biting again, I press harder as one of her hands snakes up into my hair, fingers trailing the base of my left horn.
The tantalizing tickle does something to me, something primal and filthy.
Threading a hand around her long blue locks, I guide her head backward and move up her neck, alternating between hungry bites and ravenous licks. Bluebell writhes in my arms, thrusting her hips against my stomach as she grabs on to both of my horns and lets her head fall back into my hand.
Snarling, I bite harder and harder until I reach that tender spot just below her chin.
If I bit her there, her life would be in my hands.
I want it. I need it. Surging forward, I clamp my teeth around her throat and shake slowly from side to side.
It’s possession and lust and desire all wrapped in a tidy, tight package.
Bluebell yips but sinks harder against me, the tiniest amount of blood welling to the surface of the wounds.
Releasing the bite, I nip up the underside of her jaw, up over her chin until I reach those delicious blue lips. I hover for a moment, dragging my fingertips over the soft, plump things. My entire world recenters, then, on that mouth and that soft-looking pink tongue peeking out.
Closing my eyes, I close the final inches between us and slant my mouth over hers. For a moment, time stands still. Then she moves first, dragging her nails down my horns as she bites my upper lip.
That’s it. I’m finished. There’ll never be someone else who tastes this good, this right.
Growling, I swoop my right wing around her, crushing her to me as I devour her, cocking my head to one side and the other as we lose control together.
My hands rove entirely of their own accord up beneath her shirt, my fingers arching to touch her pert nipples.
I tug softly at them as she pushes off the surface of my wing, trying to wrest control of the kiss.
“No,” I command. “I don’t think so, Blue.”
Shifting forward, I lay her on her back atop my wing, splaying her gorgeous hair over my skin.
It tickles, and even that makes me hard.
Dipping low, I take her mouth again, thrusting my hips against hers as I muse over how much fucking bigger I am.
Our kiss gets wild, hot, out of control until I’m biting and kissing and sucking on every inch of her I can reach.
I’ve got my lips and mouth on her chin, her neck, that delicate shoulder and down the inside of her arm.
Bluebell’s scent envelops me, mixing with mine until I can’t tell us apart. There’s just our lust, our need, and the knowing that she is mine, mine, mine.
I couldn’t tell you how long I kiss her before she parts from me, chest heaving.
“That was a hell of a kiss, Alk,” she whispers, slipping a hand up my shirt to rest it over my silent heart.
A heart that’ll beat when I claim her. I’m sure of that now. Because there’s no other woman in this entire world who could fit me like Bluebell Tucker. I’ll never want anyone else. Kissing her cemented what I was already relatively certain of, something I’ve been feeling for a very long time.
“I’m yours,” I whisper into the scant space between us. “You know that, don’t you?”
A smile overtakes her, blue freckles along her cheeks highlighting her beautiful burnished skin. “All mine? Sounds nice. Nothing’s ever been all mine before.”
“Until this place,” I correct, waving at the Bodice around us. “And because I’m yours, that means I’m hers too. And as a unit, we’re going to figure out how we can live and work together in partnership. Right?” I glance around.
A soft clattering comes from somewhere behind Bluebell.
“We can do this, honey,” I say to the building before looking back at my woman. “I’m not going anywhere, Bluebell. I’m in your corner, alright?”
She strokes her fingers down my jawline. “Are we really doing this, Alk?”
I nip at her fingertips, sucking them into my mouth, then grabbing her wrist and biting the inside of it.
“I think you mean, ‘Are we really doing this, baby?’ Or mate. Or whatever term of endearment you want to give me. But I don’t want the nickname you’ve used our whole lives.
I want something new, something special, something you call me at three a.m. while I’m fucking you in front of our fireplace. Pick a new name, Bluebell.”
Her mouth drops open, and the blush returns as she shifts in my arms. “I…I can’t think of one right now, but I’ll figure something out.”
I shift back onto both hands. “See that you do.”
Silence stretches long before her comm watch rings. Jasper’s name flashes over it. When she answers, he shouts in relief. “Girl, we thought you might’ve died. Where are you, and do you have Hadrian? He disappeared!”
“Got him,” she says evenly. “I’ve got a meeting with Lemon and Oz about the Mead Cute Festival, but do you want to come retrieve your wayward bestie?”
I grin and pinch her nipple again. She jerks away with a barely withheld laugh. Oh yes, I think I love this new dynamic where I just put my hands on her when I want to—assuming she’s down, of course.
Jasper asks something else, but I don’t pay attention because my eyes fall to the to-do list she dropped when she yelled at the Bodice. I grab the list, and my mouth drops open at how fucking much is on it, just like before. When she hangs up with her brother, I wave the sheet of paper at her.
“We’re gonna talk about this, Bluebell. This is more than one human is literally capable of achieving in a day.”
She shakes her head and grabs for it, but I lift it high over my head. “No,” I say again. “I’m helping you. Tell me what on there I can do, and I’ll take care of it with you.”
She wriggles in my lap. “Well, you could help me with the decorations tomorrow, if you want. Lemon, Furyon and Oz are planning to as well, but I’d be open to that if you want.”
“I’ll get the Jays too,” I offer.
She snorts. “Jasper sucks at decorating.”
“He’ll learn,” I promise. “This is non-negotiable. You cannot take on all of this stuff by yourself. We’ll learn to do it your way, so you don’t feel like you have to redo it for it to be right, but I absolutely insist on helping you.”
Her answering smile is soft. Silence goes long again, and it could be awkward, but it’s not. Not until she hops off my lap and runs both hands through her mussed hair.
“Get some clothes back on Mister Alkazar,” she commands. “You’re still my dirty little secret.”
Fuck me. That sounds good for now. But in the long run, I won’t be able to stay like that. Because I want the entire world to know Bluebell Tucker is mine. One day? One day I’ll shout that news from the damn rooftops.