34. Wilder
Wilder
Oz and I made love for hours this morning, fell asleep until noon, and now we’re taking a picnic lunch out to the ranch I intend to make our home.
I spent a few minutes this morning considering how I’ll need to change the main lodge to accommodate his wings.
I want it to be easy for him to just leap out of our room. Or anywhere, really.
He’ll want a nest, of course. His is on the small size for two males of our heft. Something bigger might be nice if he’s okay with it. His walls from the apartment would have to come with us, of course. They’re carved with his family memories, and we can’t leave that behind.
He looks over at me from the passenger seat of my pickup, a soft smile on his plump lips.
Lips I was all over this morning, tugging and pulling with my teeth.
I’ve never been so glad not to have tusks, because I devoured him like I was starving, and I suppose I have been in a way.
Always having flings and affairs and dalliances but never finding someone who fit.
I thought I was fine with that. I was focused on the ranch and taking over the Sandovals’ line of bulls. But now?
All I want is Oz beside me while we do those things together.
I smile back at him. “You’ve met Willa, obviously, but I’d love for you to meet my mother when she visits for the first time.”
He chuckles. “Oh, honey, Willa’s already told me all about her and informed me that she’ll love me, so don’t worry.” His lashes flutter. “I thought she just meant in a friendly way, but I think your sister might have been onto us from the very beginning.”
“She’s onto everybody,” I mutter as I pull into the ranch’s driveway, careful to avoid the big wooden pillars holding up the sign.
Oz looks out the window. “Speaking of Willa, have you seen her since the last time we saw her together?”
“Nope.” I shrug. “She’ll show back up at some point. Might have some new friends in tow. You never know.”
“I’ve rarely seen Kohdiy in town.” Oz crosses one leg over the other and slides his tail spade over the bench to rest on my thigh. “Couldn’t have been more shocked to see them acting friendly. Like…what is in the water in the Gulch lately? Everyone I know is falling in love.”
Silence reigns after he says “love.” It’s still so new between us, but I want to reassure him that it doesn’t scare me, not at all, so I grab his tail spade and squeeze it tight. A little grunt of pleasure leaves him, and I smile.
We drive in silence for the five minutes it takes to find the first turnoff Dart told me about when I called him this morning.
Hooking a left, we wind between giant boulders and across shorn wheat fields.
It’s another ten minutes of bumpy road before we arrive at an overlook with a fantastic view of the river.
Putting the car in park, I grin at Oz. “This is the spot. Dart assured me it's got the most romantic view, and this river comes down from the mountain rather than leading up from the Gulch. It’s nice and chilly and feeds the Gulch downstream.”
Oz slides gracefully out of the car, reaching a wing into the truck bed to grab our picnic basket.
I round the vehicle to join him, grabbing a giant blanket and a bottle of wine.
We walk to the edge of the overlook to find a small trail that leads down to the riverbank.
A perfect spot to lay the blanket is just visible below, so we walk single file down until we reach it.
While I spread the blanket out, Oz sets the picnic basket down and rifles around inside it.
“I’m gonna put on the pounds if you keep feeding me this much cheese,” he teases, grabbing a triangle of smoked gouda and popping it in his mouth.
“More ass for me to grab,” I deadpan as I find a chilly, rocky nook in the river to set the wine bottle in.
He snorts and drops onto the blanket, flaring his wings wide before tucking them gracefully at his back. They trail over the edges, beautiful and deadly, each section topped with a glittering eggplant-colored spike.
“What in the heck are you thinking about?” He pulls the cheese tray out of the basket.
I reach out and grab his tail, winding it around my fist as I admire how strong it is too.
“How you’re a predator, despite how beautiful you are, despite the way I dominate you.
How your wings and tail and claws were all designed for protecting, for fighting, and I love how gargoyle-y everything about you is. ”
He barks out a rough laugh. “How gargoyle-y I am?!”
Sighing, I lean back on my palms as I stare at the river, sparkling in the midday sun.
“I mentioned feeling like I don’t fit in any particular world.
I’m barely a troll because I don’t have the tusks or magic.
But I’m too big and green to be fully human.
Monsters are diverse and unique, of course, but there are some things you always know.
Gargoyles have wings and claws and tails.
I was just admiring that, thinking about how I can’t understand how it feels. ”
His expression goes soft, horns flexing slightly as he leans onto both forearms and smiles at me.
“It’s not all it's cracked up to be, baby. When Saint and I broke up, he said I was nothing but trash. Not from a good house like he is. Not enough of anything to keep a vampire’s attention for long, which is why he constantly strayed.
By the time I realized he had me agreeing with him, my self-confidence was shot, and that’s why I left. ”
Rolling onto my side, I grab his thigh and rub my cheeks along his shoulder, even though I don’t have tusks to rake affectionately against him. “You don’t need to be enough of anything for anyone but yourself.”
“I know,” he says in a light tone. I can’t imagine the well of hurt that tone hides.
“I healed from him, honestly. Now I can see he’s just a good-looking asshole who made me feel less than, and I don’t want or deserve that.
But it does remind me, I haven’t really shown you everything about me, Wild.
I’ve been hiding a few things. Will you let me show you now? ”
I freeze. Gods. He’s about to unload some horrific secret on me, and I don’t know if I can take that.
He chuckles. “Close your eyes, cowboy, and don’t open them until I tell you to.”
Gulping, I sit fully upright again and dutifully close them, heart pounding as I run through all the possibilities of things he might choose to hide.
A husband. A kid. Some horrible crime he’s on the run from.
A fake identity. Which might be funny since a fake relationship is how we got our start, but I’m trying not to freak out right now while he rustles around his bag.
None of the noises make any sense, although he hums softly while he does whatever he’s doing.
The minutes pass with an aching slowness, my body tensing muscle by muscle as my hearing attempts to overcompensate for not seeing him. Every rustle, every move…I try to figure out what they mean but can’t.
Oz clears his throat. “Alright, baby, I’m ready.”
I blink my eyes open, heart in my throat.
Oz sits on his heels in front of me, faced away with a fluffy white bunny tail ass plug peeking out from beneath his tail.
He wears a pair of long pink-and-white bunny ears and a black corset that fits up under the base of his wings.
My heart stutters and stops, restarting with a huge kick in my chest as I gasp in shock at the vision he presents.
“Good gods,” I murmur as I reach out and touch the fluffy tail. It’s so soft, and his ass clenches around it when I thumb the fuzzy base.
“I’m a buckle bunny,” he says with a cackle, shaking his ass at me. “A cowboy-chasing buckle bunny. What do you think?” Popping onto all fours, he smirks at me over his shoulder as he wraps his tail around my hand and pulls it back to the bunny plug.
“I been chased before,” I say with a sexy little growl. “What are you offerin’ that the other bunnies don’t got, little one?”
He stretches his gorgeous wings wide, flaring and tucking them, teasing me with their beautiful width. “There are so many options,” he says in a low, seductive tone, glancing over his shoulder at me, “when your partner has wings and a tail and a gorgeous, thick cock.”
“Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this,” I murmur.