Chapter 8 #2
Broxen glanced over his shoulder to see her standing next to the bag with the lone cookie—the bear with its mismatched eyes and friendly grin. “Wanted to, but I couldn’t. I just liked it too much to do that. But now that you’re here, you can have it.”
She looked up at him. “Can we save it for Mom?”
He smiled. “Maybe we can all share it?”
She returned his smile. “Okay.”
Broxen and Ana chatted—mostly Ana—as they cooked.
She talked about school, about her best friends, Max and Julie, about unicorns, about her favorite arts and crafts.
She spoke easily and openly, as though she and Broxen had spent countless mornings like this, as though he weren’t an omnyrian in disguise who would’ve terrified her had she seen his true appearance.
She spoke to him as though they were already family.
It wasn’t until he’d cracked the last of the eggs into the pan that his bedroom door opened.
His heart quickened, and he turned to see Gabriela stepping out of the hallway.
She was still wearing his clothing, and her hair was tousled, with strands of it dangling on the sides of her face—just the way he imagined she’d look after being well pleasured.
She wasn’t wearing any of the makeup she normally had on when he saw her most days; it was just her skin, just her eyelashes, just her lips.
And she was even more beautiful to him like this than ever before.
“I’m so sorry,” Gabriela said as she walked into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to oversleep.”
“You didn’t,” Broxen replied, hoping he didn’t look like a damned fool—or worse, a creep—as he stared at her. “It’s your, uh…day off. You had a rough night. Think you earned sleeping until seven forty-five.”
Ana looked up from the piece of toast she was currently slathering with jelly. “Morning, Mom! We’re making breakfast.”
Gabriela smiled at her. “I see that, mija.” She turned her face toward Broxen. “Anything I can help with?”
Broxen wasn’t deceived by the smile Gabriela had put on for her daughter—a smile that was meant to maintain the illusion that everything was okay.
He could see the despair and helplessness deep in her eyes.
He vowed he’d do everything he could to take those feelings away from her, to eradicate them, to make sure she’d never have to force a reassuring smile again.
“No.” He nodded toward the table. “Sit.”
Looking a little unsure, Gabriela walked to the dining table, pulled a chair out, and took a seat. “How long has Ana been up?”
Broxen offered Ana what he hoped was a meaningful glance before turning his attention back to the eggs. “Longer than me.”
“I woke up at six fifty-five,” Ana said. “I was too hungry to go back to sleep.”
Brows falling low, Broxen frowned down at the sizzling eggs. Had the kit spent that whole twenty minutes watching him sleep?
Gabriela frowned. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Ana shrugged and carried the plate with the jellied toast to the table, setting it down in the middle before seating herself. “You were tired.”
“Did she wake you, Mason?”
Chuckling, he lifted the pan off the burner and dumped the eggs onto the last plate. “No, but she was there to greet me when I woke.”
She narrowed her eyes on Ana.
“What?” Ana asked. “I was quiet. I heard Mason growling, so I wanted to check on him. I think he was dreaming that he was a wolf.”
This time when Gabriela smiled, it was genuine. She turned her eyes back up to Mason as he took three forks out of the utensil drawer, picked up all three egg-laden plates, and approached the table.
“Mason was growling?” she asked.
“Yeah. Like this.” Ana demonstrated the same growl she’d done for him earlier.
“Still don’t think that’s accurate,” he grumbled before setting the plates down and pulling out a chair, sitting across from Gabriela.
Ana picked up her fork and began shoveling eggs into her mouth.
“She does tend to exaggerate things,” Gabriela said.
“Do not,” Ana said around a mouthful.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth.”
Ana moved the food to one side of her mouth, making her cheek stick out. “Sorry.”
Shaking her head with a smile, Gabriela turned her eyes back to Broxen. “Thank you for breakfast.”
He paused with a forkful of eggs halfway up to his mouth—which was already filled with eggs—and looked up at Gabriela. He lowered the fork and quickly chewed and swallowed before replying. “No problem. Can take you to the store afterward. Get whatever you two need.”
Her smile faltered, and she dropped her gaze to her plate. “Do you…have a computer I could use? I need to let my parents know what happened, and…check my bank account, but my phone is gone.”
Based on what she’d said yesterday—and the look on her face now—Broxen guessed she knew exactly what was in her account.
Nothing, or damn near close to it.
“I’ll get my laptop when we’re done,” he said. He dipped his chin toward her untouched plate. “Eat, female.”
Her brows creased as she looked at him questioningly; only then did he realize what he’d said.
Female. That wasn’t how humans talked.
“Are we still getting hot chocolate?” Ana asked.
Gabriela’s eyes widened. “Ana!”
That interjection was convenient enough to nearly make him thank the kit. “Yes. We had a date.”
“Mason, you’ve already done so much. I…I don’t expect you to—”
“Are you…cancelling our date?” he asked, putting on an exaggerated frown. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a tactic Ana had used many times during her young life.
It was called a guilt trip.
“What? No! I just thought with… I wouldn’t cancel. I want to”—she glanced between him and Ana—“go on a date with you.”
“I knew it! He’s your boyfriend.” Grinning, Ana looked at Broxen. “I saw her staring at your butt.”
“Oh, God.” Gabriela buried her face in her hands.
The corner of Broxen’s mouth quirked up as he reached across the table with both arms, taking hold of her wrists.
She struggled a little when he tried to guide her hands down, but finally gave in.
Her cheeks had darkened; that natural hint of blush was more tantalizing than any makeup she could ever have worn.
“I’m taking you for hot chocolate,” he said when she met his gaze. “I will do that, and so much more. And don’t worry. You have my permission.”
Her brows knitted. “Permission for what?”
“To stare at my butt whenever you want.”
And I will continue to stare at yours in turn, my mate.
Gabriela laughed even as her cheeks grew darker. “Is it possible to die from embarrassment? Because I think I might.”
“You will not. Now”—he released one of her wrists and picked up her fork, placing it within her hand—“eat.”
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth as she held his gaze. Lowering her fork, she poked a piece of egg and slowly brought it to her mouth. “Yes, Sir.”
Watching her slip the eggs past her plump lips sent a rush of desire straight to his groin. For a moment, he imagined those lips wrapping around his cock, imagined those dark eyes staring up to meet his half-lidded gaze as she pleasured him with her mouth and tongue.
He dropped his hand to his thigh, curled it into a fist, and gritted his teeth as his shaft twitched and hardened. The ache was bearable. For now.
Soon.
Soon he would have Gabriela in his bed, her body bared and spread to receive him. He’d cover her with his mouth first, would lick her and taste her, would drink of her essence as she cried out in rapture. Then he would claim her as his own.
She’d be his.
Soon.