Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Adira
I stare at my phone, trying my best to ignore the gorgeous man beside me.
I’m reading what information there is online regarding heats.
Most websites are very clinical. My eyes bulge at the diagrams of knots.
Definitely not something taught in school.
Erm, non-shifter school, at least. There is no way that is gonna work.
I want to call Myla, but not with Gael here. Part of me seems to have accepted that something is happening. Otherwise, I would have taken Myla up on her offer to show up and take me home.
My abdomen hurts, on and off, similar to cramps, but not quite. My joints ache, but it’s not much different from a regular-old RA day. I’m sweaty and gross. And my pussy is ridiculously wet. I want to rub one out, but obviously not with an audience. This is hell, I decide, as my vision again blurs.
Gael must notice, for his hand goes to my forehead.
Mmm, fuck yeah, you gorgeous beast, touch me.
I shake my head, and he withdraws his hand slowly. “You’re burning up, bird. Would you like a cool shower?”
He sniffs and tucks his face down.
Oh, shit, do I stink?
“Sure,” I agree reluctantly, because really, I just want him to leave me alone so I can hump a pillow.
Oh, maybe the shower has one of those detachable sprayers.
He stands at the edge of the bed, and I mumble, “I got it.”
“Mmhm.”
I swing my legs over the small pillow ledge and slide down. As soon as my feet hit the floor, however, they give out. Gael wraps an arm around me, pulling me to his chest to keep me from falling.
“Easy,” he whispers. He reaches for my cane, resting against the table. “Do ye need this?”
Only now, face pressed to his chest, do I realize how tall he is. He’s at least a foot taller than me.
“My joints feel normal,” I mutter, “I don’t know why I’m struggling…”
Fucking rheumatoid arthritis. Honestly, it’s fairly well-managed, and I only need my cane on bad days or days with lots of walking. There’s no reason I should need it right now.
“Aye, weakness is common near heat.” And at that, he scoops my legs up and turns.
“Woah, put me down!”
“Will indeed, in the shower.”
I intend to argue more, but the feel of his strong arms around me, combined with the earth-y scent of him, distracts me.
He carries me quickly through an attached bathroom with a bathtub the size of a small pool, and behind a stone wall.
I, to my thorough disappointment, see that it is one of those fancy showers with multiple heads, including a rain one above, but no hand sprayer. Dammit.
Gael eases me onto a bamboo bench. He pulls off his shirt in one of those arm behind the head moves that makes me shiver at the best of times. And now is not the best of times.
“Wha– what are you doing?”
“I can keep me boxers on if it would help, but I don’t want to drench me clothes.”
His accent seems louder, and he shifts foot to foot.
I shake my head. “No. I can do it myself.”
His gentle, worried face shifts to exasperated. “Oh, aye? Stand then.”
I struggle up as he crosses his arms. But the second my legs give out, he lunges, grabbing me as he drops to his knees.
“Now, bird, no more arguing,” he demands gently as he eases me back to the bench.
Gael stands and pushes his sweatpants down off his hips. My jaw drops at the bulge, nay, third leg, that is visible through his black boxer briefs. He twists to turn on the water, kicking his sweats out of the space.
I clap my mouth closed, my teeth click audibly, before his gaze comes back to me.
He approaches me slowly as though I were a wild animal.
I feel like a wild animal. But… more like the kind that is going to fuck him to death. I suppose that is a kind of mauling.
A tight chuckle emerges from him. “I think that heat is close. So let’s cool you down a bit, hmm?” His pale hands take the hem of my shirt, and my head shakes, instinctive, but he pulls it up without another word. My arms raise obediently.
He makes an indistinct sound of need at the sight of my bubblegum pink bralette. Honestly, I had brought it because it was the only clean third bra I had. It doesn’t do much to contain the girls.
His hands graze up my sides, and I have obviously lost my goddamn mind because I let it happen.
His fingers slide to my back, rubbing gently over the lace. My eyes close, the feel of his fingers hypnotic.
“Is… is there a hook on this bloody thing?” he finally asks.
I let out a tiny laugh. “No…” I regain my senses a bit, “leave it. Please.”
He makes a frustrated sound but slips an arm around my waist, levering me to standing with no visible effort. I guess shifters are unnaturally strong? Or is he a demon as well?
He eases my linen pants down with one hand, and before he can do or say anything else, I beg, “Leave my panties. Please.”
He nods, helping me to stand under the warm water. One arm looped tightly around my waist, he twists again, grabbing a bottle.
“‘Tis unscented, and very gentle. Can I wash yer hair?”
I nod, throat tight, and he squirts some on top of my head. He puts the bottle down and uses that one hand to scrub my scalp.
As he helps rinse it out, he says softly, “Eli and Jules insist on wide combs for their curls, so I have one in the bedroom. Let’s condition it and wash the rest of you, and get you in something clean, hmm, bird?”
His lips graze my skin, not in a sexual way necessarily, but damn does my body light up.
Gael inhales deeply, and he huffs, as a purr starts low in his chest.
As he conditions my hair, my body seems to tense more and more. Like the witch part of me wakes up, overpowering this supposed horny omega side.
His fingers run through my hair and I’m frozen. I don’t know why, but I cannot do or say anything.
As Gael offers the soap to me with one hand, I take it, eyes blurring. He grabs both my hips as his green eyes stare me down while I attempt to wash myself over my underwear.
Unexpectedly, my eyes fill with tears. A sob escapes me.
“Oh, nay, sweetheart,” he rumbles, his brogue thick.
My vision fades as my mind realizes that he catches me before my head hits the tile.