Chapter 8 #2
I try to think back to my shifter sex ed and come up blank. “We didn’t go too in-depth with interspecies mating at cub school. But maybe we could figure it out—how does this work with cats?”
“I’ve never…you know…with a cat shifter before,” she admits. “They, um, have barbed penises.”
“The fuck?”
“Yeah. That’s why cats scream when they’re mating.”
“That’s barbaric.”
“I don’t know. Kittens are born every day. So it can’t be that bad. Just never seemed fun to me.”
“So what’s the point of the barbs?”
“Similar to your knot, I guess. Stimulates ovulation to increase the chance of pregnancy.”
“Hmm. We might be in trouble then.”
Her eyes widen. “You think?!? Jesus Christ. I don’t want kittens!”
“Technically, they’d be fox-kittens. Or kitten-foxes. Or kittoxes. No. That sucks. What about Foxtens. Hmm. That one kinda sounds like an insult.”
She slaps me on the chest. “Why are you making light of this? We could be in real trouble here!”
“I make light of everything, Tabby. That’s my job.
” I reach up to brush her hair back from her face, enjoying the way she swats at my hand with elegant pique and very little force.
“Besides, you said yourself you don’t know how this works for crossbreeds.
Worst-case scenario, we have a litter of adorable chaos sometime in the future. Best case, we just keep practicing.”
She gives me the most unimpressed look in the world. “That’s not reassuring at all.”
I prop myself up on one elbow, careful not to shift in a way that makes either of us yelp for the third time in two minutes.
“Come on. We’re two adult shifters. We can handle a little biology.
” I lower my voice, which is difficult given it’s already been reduced to a throat-shredded rasp by the combination of her and the exertion.
“Or did you not like it?” I look her in the eye, letting her see everything, even the things I’m not saying.
She blinks. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lower lip, still swollen from my kisses. Her fingers, a little shaky, draw lazy shapes on my chest. “I liked it,” she whispers. “Obviously. I just… I didn’t expect you. This. Us. I don’t know what to do with it.”
I could joke, as is my way. Deflect, dodge, dazzle. But something about the way she says ‘us’ makes my heart ache a little. Instead, I hold her. She fits perfectly, our chests pressed tight, her heartbeat thundering against mine.
“I don’t either,” I admit, a confession so raw it almost tastes bad in my mouth. “But I’m not sorry.”
Tabitha looks up at me, her eyes wide and soft and impossibly green.
She smiles, open and unguarded, then tucks her cheek against my shoulder. “I’m not sorry, either.”
We lie there for a few minutes, breathing together, feeling each other through our bond. It’s intimate in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Not just the physical connection, but the emotional one. Like we’re sharing the same heartbeat.
“Jasper?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I—”
A creak from upstairs makes us both freeze.
Footsteps.
“Oh no,” Tabitha whispers. “She’s awake. She’s never awake this late.”
“Don’t move.”
“I couldn’t move if I wanted to!”
The footsteps come down the stairs. We hear the range-hood light click on. It illuminates everything with a soft glow, and we stay frozen and locked together on the couch while Bea fills a glass with water and drinks it. “That’s better. Must have been sleeping with my mouth open.”
She rinses the glass. Sets it in the dish rack. Then clicks the light off.
Her footsteps move back up the stairs.
We wait until we hear her bedroom door close before we start breathing normally again.
“That was too close,” Tabitha hisses.
“Hey, she didn’t see us.”
“We were NAKED on her COUCH. KNOTTED.”
“Mate tied. But she walked right past us. We’re good.”
“We are not good! We are the opposite of good!”
I feel the tie starting to release and carefully, slowly, pull out of her. She winces slightly, and I press an apologetic kiss to her lips.
“You OK?”
“I’m fine. I’m—” She pushes at my chest. “Get off me.”
I roll to the side, and she immediately sits up, wrapping the robe around herself.
“That can never happen again,” she says firmly.
“What? The tie or the sex?”
“Both!”
“Not happening.”
She turns to glare at me. “We were almost caught!”
“You expect me to claim you once and that’s it?” I shake my head. “No way, kitty. You’re mine now. And you and I are going to do this again and again and again until you finally accept it.”
“That’s—you can’t just—”
“Can’t I?” I pull her into my lap, her thighs straddling mine. “Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll go back to the laundry room and leave you alone.”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Then, with a sound that’s half growl, half moan, she kisses me.
“I really do hate you,” she gasps between kisses.
“No, you really don’t.”
“Maybe I just hate that you’re right.”
“Now, that’s part’s true.”
“I hate that I can’t stop wanting you.”
“And I love that about you.” I stand, lifting her with me. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
“Where are we going?”
“Guest room. I noticed there’s one down the hall when I was snooping around last night. And it has a lock on the door. So this time, I’m taking my time with you.”
She wraps her legs around my waist and buries her face in my neck. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”
“Maybe. But at least we’ll be trouble together.”