Chapter 17
seventeen
. . .
rupert
“So, have you told her?” Giancarlo asks, pouring himself a new whiskey.
We’re foregoing the facade of accountant and client today and sitting in his living room.
His couch bows under me, as ancient as it is.
I don’t know why he still lives in this ratty flat with a creepy back entrance, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change his ways anytime soon.
I’ve already spilled the ugly story of how Peony met me for the first time, how I disappointed her, how she was wonderful enough to forgive me. Giancarlo’s mouth falls open when I explain that she had kissed me.
“She’s hot for you!” he crowed.
I’m shaking my head as I swirl my whiskey around the glass. “I haven’t given her the full story, no. But there’s time for that. Later.”
My friend leans back on the couch and props his feet up on the ottoman, not looking convinced.
“Later, hmm?” He sips. “Later when? Later after you sleep with her?”
I splutter into my glass and pull it away from my lips. “I’m doing no such thing.” My mane rises on my back, but not in the aroused way. This is the angry way. It’s not fair to dangle that in front of me—the idea of being intimate with Peony—knowing it can never happen.
Giancarlo raises his hands in surrender. “My apologies.”
I gnash my teeth. “I can’t, Giancarlo.” I gesture at my whole big, awkward, distinctly inhuman body. “And you know where this ends.”
“Those are two separate issues.” He raises one finger in the air. “First, you don’t know anything about this woman’s preferences. Maybe she’ll like it. And you won’t know unless you give her a chance.”
I roll my eyes. “And number two?”
“Number two, that was just some dreck an old man said to hurt you. To make you think you couldn’t possibly be loved. He can’t control your life.”
“He was able to turn me into this,” I say, opening my big hand with the long claws.
“Sure. But you control your destiny, Rupert.”
It’s tempting to believe him. I want there to be a world where I could end up in a happily ever after. But how much more painful would it be to find that place, to have that with her, only to have it ripped away?
“It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Giancarlo says thoughtfully, as if this isn’t real life for me. “You believe you can’t be loved, so you make yourself unlovable. You set yourself up for failure so that you can blame it on the spell and not yourself.”
I grunt into my whiskey. “Rude.”
It’s even more rude that he’s right. I’m the one who ended the kiss and almost ran away with my tail between my legs.
Giancarlo chuckles. “You despise it when I’m right.”
“Oh, I do.” I set down my glass, letting out a heavy breath. “I shouldn’t have more if I’m going to drive home, and I ought to soon.”
“And see your new lady love?” He waggles one thick eyebrow.
“Yes, yes.” I groan as I leave my glass behind on the table and stretch. I’ve been sitting for hours. “Thank you, old friend.”
“Tell her,” he says instead, pointing a finger at me. “Give her the whole story. Let her make up her mind about you. I get the sense she has a generous spirit, and she will extend that to you.”
Very optimistic of him. I hope he’s right.
peony
I spend the whole next day of work wondering when I’m going to run into Rupert. I make a nice lunch for us, but when Kellen arrives in the kitchen, he informs me that Mr. Edgewood’s gone out for the day.
“Gone out?” Where does someone go when they look like he does? I didn’t think he could leave the house. “Where?”
“To visit Giancarlo. A very old friend of his. If you want to clean his quarters, this would be a good time.”
I suppose it’s been a few weeks now, so I abandon my current project and haul my vacuum up the stairs and down the hall of the east wing.
Rupert’s kept the curtains open since the last time I was here, which I’m happy to see.
It can’t be good for him to live in the darkness.
We all need some sunshine now and then, even if just for our health.
The carpets are less clogged with fur this time, and so are the drains. Now the hole in the chair makes sense, as does the long hair I find all over the bathroom. I make a note to buy him some fresh candles next time I’m in town.
I’m strangely sad that day, though, knowing Rupert is gone. I wonder if he’ll be back for dinner, or if I should throw together something simple for Kellen and me.
When I finally hear his big SUV roll down the driveway, I head right to the garage to wait for him.
Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with how eager I am to see Rupert again, and my heart’s already thrumming faster.
I clasp my hands behind me as the garage door opens, then I hear the roar of the engine before it’s cut off.
The moment Rupert’s inside, I want to hug him. Instead, I patiently wait until he hangs up his key and notices me, my smile growing. He answers with one of his own.
“Peony! I’m surprised to see you.”
I’m itching to be closer, but after the way he ended our kiss yesterday, I don’t want to push him.
“I was surprised you went out today.”
Rupert arches a brow, then hangs up his coat. When he turns to face me again, he tentatively holds out one hand.
I’m not sure what he’s asking, but I place my palm in his anyway. He clasps it, then gently, uses it to pull me toward him.
Finally, I get that hug I wanted. I bury my face in his chest, marveling at how soft and warm and comforting he is. I can hear his chuckle rumble under my cheek.
“I’m happy to see you, too,” Rupert murmurs into my hair.
Then we disengage, and I hastily change my dinner plans to something a little more exciting.
Rupert seems to be in a marvelous mood at the table, gesturing with surprising vehemence. I wait for him to tell me about Giancarlo, but he doesn’t, asking me instead about my ingredient choices and cooking techniques.
I wonder if it’s part of his story, the one he’s not ready to tell me yet. When will he be ready?
rupert
It is, of course, incredibly lovely to come home to find Peony waiting eagerly for me. There’s nothing quite so endearing as the way she springs at me when I welcome her into my arms, as if we’re married and I just got home from work.
What a wonderful and normal life that would be, to always be welcomed home in such a manner.
I keep her under my arm as we walk into the house, then to the kitchen, where Peony naturally gravitates. She doesn’t seem to mind the prolonged contact—she even leans into me, rubbing my hand in hers before she dances away to start cooking some shrimp scampi.
It’s a pleasure to watch her in the kitchen. She is a sorceress, whipping together lovely delights for us with lightning-fast movements. It’s clear that she spent time in a professional kitchen, not simply in cooking classes like me.
Kellen and I chat at the counter in a way that feels both painfully normal and painfully strange. I don’t interact much with others, and after most of a day with Giancarlo, I am nearly spent.
But it’s worth it to give what little I have left to Peony.
After dinner, I want an excuse to spend more time with her without Kellen around.
I want to know if what I’m feeling, if what I’m imagining between us, is real—and if it is, how I proceed.
Does she find me attractive? Does she want to pursue more?
Perhaps it’s blunt of me to ask, but I want to be certain of where we stand.
“Would you like to sit in the garden?” I finally ask Peony as we carry dishes to the sink. I gently push her out of the way, taking over the faucet.
She glares at me for interrupting. “Well, I suppose so, after you’re done manhandling me.”
I smirk at her playful tone. But then Kellen bumps into me from the other side.
“Both of you should go,” he says, shooing me with one hand. “I’m cleaning tonight.”
Peony pouts. “But—”
“Go on your little walk so I don’t have to watch the two of you flirting anymore.”
Properly chastised, we put on our coats and set off out the back door. It’s been dark for an hour or two now, as late in the year as it is, and the stars are already out.
“Clear night,” says Peony, admiring the same view. “But cold.”
I need no further invitation. I put an arm around her in a way that’s already become familiar, and she settles easily into my side.
“Thank you, Rupert.”
“Think nothing of it, it’s not a bother.”
“Not just for this.” She reaches up and loops her little fingers around my big thumb, avoiding my claw. “For everything. You gave me a job, you gave me a place to stay, you’ve done so much to help me.”
I stare down at her. These aren’t things she needs to thank me for.
“Peony.” I bring us to a stop, and she gazes curiously up at me.
I cup her chin and lower my head closer to hers.
“There’s no need for that. You work hard.
You’ve always done nothing but your best. I’m the one who should be thanking you.
” I stand up a little straighter and clear my throat.
“I haven’t been outside in this garden in… ages. And that’s your doing.”
I love how her smiles are so wide they pinch her apple cheeks.
We continue walking until we reach the benches near the koi pond, and here we sit, Peony’s hands bundled up in her pockets because her fingers are getting cold.
“I wish I’d brought my gloves,” she grumps, and she’s so sweet that my teeth ache. I reach over and encircle her closed fists with my warm palms.
Now I need to ask her.
“Peony…” I begin, unsure of how to broach such a tender subject.
“Mm?” She’s gazing up at me with such a bright and open face I can’t help but pour my heart out to her.
“I care for you a great deal,” I say at last. “And I find you… very lovely.”
She cocks her head and smiles. “I think you’re lovely, too, Rupert.”
I’m learning that Peony has two smiles: a big, genuine one, which is what I get most of the time. But she has a smaller one as well that shows only her front top teeth, when she’s feeling mischievous.
This is the mischievous one.
“What do you want to ask me?” she finally prompts when I say nothing back. “Is this about our kiss?”
I cringe. Am I really so novice now in romantic matters that I couldn’t even bring it up?
“Did you like it?” Peony asks, leaning in closer to me on the bench. My arm slips down her back as she closes the distance between us. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”
Every hair on my body stands up at this suggestion. I want nothing more than to kiss her again. To kiss her, and do all sorts of other things to her, too.
“Yes.” I say this one word, and Peony inhales in anticipation. “Yes, I would.”
“Good.” She licks her lips. “Then do it.”
So I lean down and capture her mouth.
peony
I don’t know exactly what big, important thing Rupert was trying to ask me, but I could tell it all boils down to one fact: he believes himself a monster, something without physical appeal, and he doubts I could feel attraction to his form.
So it’s time to show him.
When Rupert’s mouth meets mine, I waste no time wrapping my arms around his big neck and pulling him down to me.
I tangle my hands in his mane, drawing myself in until I’m almost in his lap.
One of his big arms curls under my hip and slides me easily over the ridge of his thigh until I’m between his legs.
It’s so close and so intimate that I’m tingling, and we still haven’t stopped kissing.
Now his tongue is coming out to play, and I open my lips to let him in.
I enjoy the tentative way Rupert comes seeking me out and so I meet him, sucking on the tip of his tongue before the two twine together.
Then I nibble one of his lips, which makes his whole body tighten, and I arch myself even further into him.
His other arm loops under my back, bringing me in flush with his chest as he absolutely ravishes my mouth.
Wow. It feels amazing to be ravished.
Now my hands are traveling up his mane, and I stumble across one of his long ears.
They’re not floppy, but they’re not pointy, either—they’re almost like that of a horse, I think as I stroke near one.
I don’t know how he’ll feel about me touching it, but when Rupert’s hips rise against mine, I reflexively reach out and wrap my hand around it.
Rupert moans, a full-throated, garbled moan.
His body jerks as I rub the ear from the narrow base to the wide middle, and his tongue becomes wild, furious.
With the tips of his sharp fangs, he nips my lip.
When the tiny spark of pain mixes with the heady pleasure of kissing him, I collapse against him.
We’re truly making out now, and I’m much warmer than before—so warm, in fact, that I feel like I could take off my coat and still not cool off. Our angle is awkward with my legs flung over his thigh, so I rotate my hips in his lap until I’m straddling his waist.
Rupert gasps against my mouth as my ass settles right on his groin.
“Peony,” he says in a warning tone, low and growling, his lips still on mine. It makes the hair on my skin stand on end.
I pull away from the kiss just long enough to ask, “Do you like it?” Then I grind my hips down, against that growing lump under his pants, and Rupert lets out a tortured groan.
“Oh, I do,” he manages, his voice barely more than a purr. “Far too much, I fear.”
“Don’t fear anything.” I put a finger on his lips, then return to kissing him.
Rupert is much, much bolder now, his big hands tracing their way down my back, one even going so far as to cup my ass.
I pet his other ear this time, stroking it in a sultry manner that makes him twitch under my hands.
I can feel his erection poking up between my thighs, rubbing against my own sensitive place.
“Peony,” Rupert says, breaking away from our kiss to gasp for air. “Do you… would you rather go inside? To continue this?”
My eyes get wide. I thought he’d never ask.
I cover his hand, which is currently resting on my left ass cheek, and give it a squeeze.
“I would love to,” I say, lifting my head so I can speak directly in his ear. He shudders all over. “Take me where you want to go.”