Chapter Eleven Ingrid and King
When I get home, I let the dogs out into the fenced-in yard for ten minutes, then race upstairs and into a hot shower. Need a cold shower, but... no. I want it warm and wet, like other parts of me.
King kept his promise. He only kissed me.
Sitting on his enormous leather couch, I leaned over him while he reclined, his injured leg straight and elevated slightly, and he looked up at me with utter adoration.
By the end of the night, we hadn’t talked a lot, but my mouth was exhausted and my mind was whirling.
No one has ever touched me like that, just on my neck and my face, his fingers in my hair, and made me feel so aroused.
I kept waiting for him to ask for more, but he didn’t, keeping things at a slow, burning simmer the whole time.
When I sat back up, whimpering inside because I’d lost the best pillow ever (Orc pecs), I could see the thick erection bulging in his pants.
There was no “Take care of this for me, honey” or “Aren’t you going to do something about this before you leave?”
Just those adoring looks.
Lingering kisses.
I can’t help it if my hand is now going to where I wanted his cock. I’m an expert in self-satisfying at this point, and I have plenty of accessories that could help me. Right now, I barely need to touch myself, fingers sinking in deep and rocking against my nub before I’m coming, thinking of him.
I get out of the shower several moments later, wrapped in my comfy terrycloth bathrobe, facing two dogs who are very uncertain about whether or not they like it when I’m barely home at night. “Oh, guys. I’m a mess,” I mutter when I meet their accusatory eyes.
Daisy whimpers and runs in circles as I towel my hair dry. Chip hops up on the foot of the bed and shows me his red teddy bear, his stress chewing toy. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I met someone. Another person who could use a little rescuing, I think.”
As I settle into bed with my television on and a hand on each dog, my mind wanders.
You don’t need another rescue. Not unless it’s another furball.
King is so smooth. Except for that gorgeous hair.
The fact that you think of him like that, like a rescue—maybe you’re the one who needs some help.
“Am I just as messed up? Am I missing another kind of compassion?” I ask.
Chip and Daisy plant their paws on my knees in unison, demanding more scritches while giving me their excessively furry comfort. “Or maybe I just don’t want to believe that the weird ‘feel-good fairy tale romance’ can happen to me. It’d be easier if it didn’t.”
But my heart and my hips aren’t sure they want to settle for easy anymore.
Stairs with a full bladder and crutches are a level ten difficulty, but stairs with a raging hard-on, crutches, painkillers, and two glasses of wine are damn near impossible.
I make it to my bed and collapse with a grateful groan. The ache in my cock distracts me from the ache in my knee, at least for the moment.
Heroic acts, Ultarn the Prolific says. Prove to your mate that you are worthy of winning her.
I didn’t touch the enormous, soft, perfect curves that were pressed up against me. I whimper as I wrap my fist around my swollen, flushed cock, wincing at how hot my skin is.
Does denying myself count as heroic? Not that I’m denying myself now, of course. My hand moves furiously as I picture her without the jeans, without the shirt, just soft, voluptuous thighs, breasts for me to get lost in, hips to grip as I slide home and seal her pussy with my knot.
She smells so divine, and tastes even better than she smells.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to be underneath her, lost in her as she pounds down on me, hips smashing to mine.
And when I’m better... Bending her over this bed, standing behind her, and watching every inch of my long, thick cock disappear into her.
I shoot hard and fast, abs curled into a crescent with the sudden force of my release.
Damn it. Now I have to get cleaned up. Showering has been tricky, to say the least.
Down to one good leg—and it’s too rubbery to hold me up just now.
I’m in lust—and for the first time in my life, I’m kind of upset about it. Lust was always enough. Quick, hard pleasure was always enough. Now? I want so much more.
With a shock, I realize that I’m just as happy thinking about meeting Ingrid’s dogs tomorrow as I am thinking about her body and how she’d look in my bed. Hoping they like me. Can I get the pet store to deliver before my appointment? Because I want to get them treats. I want them to like me.
I want her to like me.
I want her to do more than just like me.
I think I’m in love.
“Lemon balm mojo and all that good dinner must’ve helped.
Your knees are both the same size today.
That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to go putting weight on it.
This is a grade three tear, all right? Now that the swelling is down, I think we’ll look at an immobilizer in the fully locked position, and then move to a hinged knee brace.
That’s my opinion on the best course of action. When do you see the team doctor again?”
“Uh. Friday,” I say, looking past Kev.
My appointment started on time, with no paperwork, no sparring with Ingrid. No Ingrid at all. No dogs. Did I scare her off? Should I ask Kevin for her number?
“What happened after we left?” Kev asks.
“Huh?”
“Ingrid came in with her iced coffee and a sly little smirk that confused me. Never seen it before.”
“Smirk? That’s almost a smile.” I sound like someone handed me a winning lottery ticket. I don’t even notice when Kev brings out an ugly gray thing that looks like something from the Terminator’s closet.
“Dude. You have it so bad. You barely know her.”
“Orcs are different!” I say stubbornly. “When we know, we know. But she’s not an Orc, so.
.. Hey, look. Do you think Chip and Daisy will like these?
” I reach over to my Lumberjack’s official sports duffle and start pulling out things I had delivered from Pet Village, the local pet shop.
“I got beef treats, peanut butter and bacon, and liver and sausage. I got a tug of war rope, and this—look, you put it on the floor and it goes by itself. They have to chase it. Oh, and this is a foraging mat! You hide treats in these little compartments,” I pull the last object out of the bag, unfolding the sturdy mat with springy green, yellow, and pink patches.
“It kind of looks like a meadow. Or garden. I hope Ingrid won’t think I’m encouraging them to dig up her lawn.
It says it’s good for dogs who get bored or spend time on their own, and if I want to take Ingrid out. ..”
Kev’s hands land on my shoulders, and I stop with a jerk. “Huh?”
“Cool it. You’re moving too fast. Ladies call it love bombing.”
“But I’m not...”
“You’re love bombing her dogs. Too much spoiling too fast.”
“But... that’s what Orcs do. We have to prove our love and devotion.”
“Oh, the l-word!” Kev hangs his head and lets out a deep sigh.
“You know what I mean. Where is Ingrid?”
“Took a late lunch and went home to get the dogs. She’s bringing them to Hilltop Home today. Going back with Mrs. Yerchenko.”
“Ah. Should I have gotten two mats? Will they fight over the one?”
“You didn’t hear a word I said. Tell you what—you’ve got big ears. Let’s see how well you listen. Romance is about listening to what your other half wants, not just doing what you think you should do to ‘prove’ yourself.”
I shrug off his words. I’m a Silverbow. We forge ahead. We conquer.
I don’t tell Kev, but I figure Ingrid’s dogs are like her kids. She even has a “Dog Mom” sticker on her car. So, part of proving I can be a good mate is proving I could be a “Dog Dad.” At least, I can try.
But what if he’s right, and I just drive her away with too much love?
“Wait, how is it love bombing? Is it love bombing if I’m not sure that she can ever love me?”
Kevin just groans. “Physical therapist. Not mental health therapist.”
We lock eyes, and he adjusts the straps and bindings on the pinching gray vise around my leg. I let out a sigh of relief when it no longer squeezes so hard.
He lets out a long sigh. “Fine, fine. I guess I’m a friend, too.”
That actually makes me perk up. I realize that all my friends are on the team, and we don’t really hang out aside from hockey. I sometimes mingle in the paranormal community, but I don’t have many I’d consider true friends. “As a friend, what do I do not to screw up?”
“Don’t be in such a hurry.”
“But it’s hard when it’s all I can think about. She’s just... perfect. She’s smart and funny, and her life is together. I don’t want to mess it up, but I bet I could add something to it.”
“Well, for the next thirty minutes, you’re going to think about something else. Time to work on mobility while you’re in that immobilizer. You still need to be on crutches, and this could get a little awkward.”
I try to move off the exam table, one leg bound stiffly and two crutches catching my weight.
“A little?” I challenge, one eyebrow arched.
Kev whistles innocently. “Come on, man. You got this. Up and into the training area.”
Idart away from the door and back to the waiting room, where Mrs. Yerchenko is shaking paws with each of my dogs, who look so proud of themselves. I wasn’t supposed to be listening in. I was just checking to make sure King had checked in.
Not my fault his voice is deep. Carrying.
Not my fault the rehab area is so quiet this time of day, with just Mrs. Yerchenko waiting for me to drive her back to Hilltop Home and my sweet pups, sitting quietly with their “Visitor Vests” and their little crocheted angel wings on.
I shouldn’t have stayed there, eavesdropping for so long, my heart pounding.
Of course, I don’t know what they said before, but it sounds like King has love on the brain. Sounds like he wants to impress me. Spoil me.
My lips curl down. That’s not something I’d allow... normally.