The Cougar's Trade (22 page)

“Yes. I like being touched there.”

“Okay.” She pulled him into her warm mouth once more, this time adding teasing caresses to his balls and firm compression to his shaft.

Setting his teeth together, he put his head back and forced out a breath. He’d always thought there was something so clinical about hand jobs, and even oral sex for that matter.
Touch this, squeeze that, put your tongue here. Repeat.

Miles seemed to be compelled by his responses, slight though they were, giving him everything he didn’t know he needed, and in a pattern that made sense only to her. Lips. Tongue. Teeth. Here, there, everywhere at once, it seemed.

It was good.
So
good. And he was in his head, enjoying it all, without paying any attention to the woman giving him such pleasure. He opened his eyes and pressed his hands to her cheeks, and into her short hair.

“Don’t stop. Gods, don’t stop.”

He held her head still and thrust into her fist, her mouth, hissing at the sight of her expression. He might have called it a satisfied grin if she were actually able to grin at the moment, but her lips certainly seemed to twitch in that direction.

He didn’t think it was actually possible, but she increased suction around his head and took up a more ruthless jerking of his cock that had his shoulder blades pulling together and his belly full of fire. He thrust into her again and again, and she just took it all, looking up at him beneath hooded eyelids as if seeking out some response…some…
feedback?

“Feels so fucking good, Miles. And you…you look
so
good.” Hardly eloquent, but shit, it was true. Kneeling in front of him like that, she looked absolutely debauched, and with his hands in her hair, he could add possessed to the list of adjectives, too. Realizing that did almost as much for him as her tongue probing his tip at the moment did.

She was
his
mate, and he’d known that, of course, but not fully what it’d meant. He was bound by the goddess’s will to care for this woman, and even give his life for her, but he hadn’t considered what Miles would be giving him in exchange. He’d been so cold to her, but she kept on giving him warmth.
Enthusiasm
. It was almost as if she liked him.

“You…like me?” Instead of a statement, his words came out a pathetic question. The sound of an uncertain man who’d lived thirty-two years without knowing what romantic affection felt like.

She set her teeth into his flesh and set off that fiery chain reaction he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. His seed flowed across her tongue and down her throat as she gripped his thighs and dropped her gaze.

When she released him, he pulled her up onto her knees. “Do you?”

Even in the dark, he could see the mottled red of her cheeks, and the difficulty she had setting her gaze on him. She’d find his eyes only to look quickly away.

“You like me?” he repeated, this time tipping her chin to him.

“Why would that surprise you?” she whispered. “I would have thought you wanted that.”

“I can’t really let myself want what I don’t expect to ever have, can I?”

“You just assumed that any woman
La Bella Dama
tossed at you would merely tolerate you?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard enough rumors about Foye men to guess why.” Hell, she’d seen how people in town responded to him. He knew his reputation. He’d even done his best to maintain it to keep people from trying to get too close. It’d become a habit, just like compartmentalizing everything about sex beyond the orgasm. He was on autopilot, going through the motions of everything in life, because nothing was worth his passion. He pretended well enough with the Cougars, but he realized now, that’s all it was. He hadn’t had passion for anything he’d once loved and enjoyed in at least ten years—not since they’d all had to grow up.

“Nah, I don’t really want to know what you think. Don’t tell me.”
Unless it’s true.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head and held her against him.

“I like you so much I can’t stand you, Hank.”

That surprised him?

Miles would have thought a man like Hank would expect people to not only respect him, but like him, too.

“
That’s a privileged way of thinking. Let go of it
.”

“Get out of my head,” she whispered.

Hank held her back a few moments and looked at her with concern. “How am I in your head?”

“Not you. Never mind.”

“No, not never mind. Something obviously bothered you, and it was either me or something else. I hope it wasn’t me, and if it was something else, I’d like you to tell me about it.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not bothering me as much as distracting me.”

“This isn’t a side effect of your illness, is it?”

She laughed. “No. I just…”

“
At your discretion
.”

“Fine. Thank you.”

Hank pushed up an eyebrow.

Miles let out a breath. “I…hear things. She’s speaking to me. Sometimes she gets chatty and I get confused.”

“
Who
is speaking to you? Agatha? I know she and Ellery have some odd communicative methods, but the last time I checked, you were neither a witch nor a wind goddess.”

“No, I’m just a boring nurse. It’s…uh…your goddess. She talks to me sometimes.” She waited for the shoe to drop—for him to tell her she was nuts and to look at her while wearing an appropriately suspicious expression.

“She’s…
talking
to you? Is that what you’re telling me?” He sat back on his heels and fixed his pants. Good thing. It was hard to pay attention to the conversation at hand when he had exposed himself so temptingly.

Miles wrapped her arms around her chest and gritted her teeth against the cool wind. “It’s not continuous.”

“Here.” Hank rooted beneath a couple of cushions and pulled out a heavy woolen blanket. He wrapped it around her shoulders, leaving a gap at her chest. As if she wouldn’t notice.

She pinched it closed. “It started soon after you and Sean fetched us from your mother’s.”

“What is she telling you?”

“Mostly just pick-me-up things. Encouragement. Telling me whether my interactions with Cougars are typical or things I need to be wary of.”

“That’s not normal.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Who else knows about it?”

“Just Ellery, Agatha, and now you. I don’t think Mason knows yet. Agatha helped me figure out what it was. I thought I was going crazy.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“It didn’t seem important.”

“
My
goddess is chatting to you enough to drive you a little nuts, and you didn’t think that was important? Cougars never expect to hear from her, and it’s been so long since anyone’s seen her that we’ve been starting to wonder if she even exists anywhere but in our imaginations. You’re telling me she is right there in your head. That is a
huge
fucking deal, and you didn’t tell me. You—”

“Hank.” She set a hand against his mouth, then asked quietly, “How would you have reacted if I had? Really think about it. Don’t give me the obvious answer, but your true one.”

His luminescent eyes narrowed and his lips twitched beneath her hand. He took her wrist gently inside his fingers and freed his mouth. “Okay. True answer? I’d probably still be pissed.”

“Why?”

He scoffed and gave his head a hard shake. “Because she doesn’t make sense. Nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing anymore, and she’s been so quiet. Where was she when everything started falling apart? We don’t even know how we’re supposed to act, and all we can do is make shit up as we go along and hope no one gets hurt in the process. She didn’t tell
us
what to do when the shit hit the fan, but she’s in
your
head? You’re not even— You know what? Fuck it.”

Releasing her wrist, he stood, heeled off his boots, and pushed down his jeans.

“What are you doing?”

He shifted so quickly in front of her that she hardly had time to appreciate his silky smooth transition from beautifully naked man to sleek, powerful beast.

The cougar leaped over the side of the truck bed and loped toward the desert.

“Hank?”

He kicked up some speed, and soon disappeared into the night.

“Don’t leave me here,” she whispered, but of course, there was no answer back. He was gone. “Damn him.”

Running was childish and petty and…

She sighed at the realization. Running was what he knew. Perhaps he didn’t do it literally, but in small ways. Sometimes ignoring things was a way of running from them. Running had never been her style, not even when she was a kid and went through a couple of pretty dubious foster care placements before she was put into a home that stuck.

Obviously he needed her, even if the glaring didn’t, and more than anything she wanted to be needed. Being needed meant she belonged, and she’d gone so long without belonging to anyone.

She sat and watched, refusing to give up her ground. She would be right there when he returned, and she was going to make him deal with it.

“Well, what do you have to say now?” she asked the goddess.

“
He’s just a man
.”

“The Cougar men I know might say they’d you expect you to say such a thing. They say you’re man-hating.”

“
I love men very much, including my own son. And because of my son, I have tougher standards than some other goddesses might. When you have a son and he is a Cougar, you will understand
.”

“Don’t put the cart ahead of the horse.” Miles found her flimsy shirt, slipped it on, tightened the blanket around her, and settled down onto the cushions. “Talk to me until I nod off. Please.”

“
Fine. I will tell you how Cougars settled into the Southwest
.”

She might have spilled all, and the goddess’s words were probably fascinating indeed, but Miles fell asleep quickly, wondering how she’d inadvertently insult her Cougar the next time and reminding herself that his hang-ups were his own. She didn’t cause them and she couldn’t fix them, but she could accept them, even though there had to be an equal trade. She’d take him as he was, but he needed to do the same for her in return.

• • •

It was nearly dawn when Hank returned to the truck and pounced into the bed. He’d spent half the night stalking the hellmouth, which was peaceful for a change, and letting his two halves argue it out.

His animal half said that his man half was a dick. His man half said that his cougar half would roll on a cactus if he thought he’d get laid. His cougar half said that his man half should be pleased his mate had the goddess’s favor. His man half was too busy feeling sorry for himself to hear it.

And he realized then that he
did
feel sorry for himself, and he had since he was seventeen and had had to make that choice. He’d ignored the anger and built-up resentment over it. Everything he’d done since then had been halfhearted, and that wasn’t fair for anyone, especially Miles. She’d been so kind in spite of his detachment.

Relieved to find her still in the truck, he shifted back and squatted beside her. For a while, he just looked. He couldn’t see much, and there wasn’t much of her. She was curled into a tight ball under the blanket, and only a swath of her gently curling hair, her forehead, one closed eye, and a cheek were exposed.

He nudged the blanket down to reveal her nose and sweet lips, and held his hand in front of them.

Still breathing.
He had to be sure. Maybe it was the cat part of him that hadn’t believed it.

He stroked her cheek, pulling his hand away when feeling how fucking cold she was. Were-cougars didn’t get cold the same way. Their metabolisms were too fast, and their body temperatures were higher than humans’.

He hopped to the ground, rooted in the truck’s crew cab, and found a second blanket. He could take her home and put her in a real bed, but it was already so close to morning, he hated to wake her. And maybe he felt a little selfish for a change and just wanted an excuse to be close. He could say he was watching over her. It wasn’t romantic, but practicality was all he knew.

Nestling beside her, he pulled the blanket over them both and tucked her against his chest.

“Mmm,” came a small voice from inside the covers.

He kept still, figuring she was simply stirring in sleep.

“You’re warm,” she said softly, then stiffened. She patted his chest, and worked one hand out of the blankets. It felt his face, his nose, chin, lips, and pressed down to his hair. She grabbed a handful and followed it to the end. “Hank.”

“Yeah.”

“Just making sure.”

He let out a long breath. “You need to learn my scent.”

“I would need to have a Cougar’s nose to pick it up.”

She pushed her head out of her cocoon, and he watched her pupils slowly adapt to the light, dim though it was. “What time is it?”

“Why? Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“No. I’m just curious, I guess.”

“I’d guess it’s a little after six. Sun’ll be up all the way soon, and if we stay out here, we’ll roast.”

“Already roasting a little. Your body is like a space heater. I think you’d burn me if that blanket wasn’t between us.”

“Nah. You might sweat a little, though.”

“I’ll risk a little sweat if you want to touch me. To transfer your scent, I mean.”

“Oh.” Just that quickly, he’d forgotten. It had seemed such a minor consideration compared to everything else storming his brain at the time. He helped her reconfigure the blankets, and only hissed a little when she rolled and put her back to his front. She scooted back against him, insinuating herself close and tucking her ass against his crotch.

“Better?”

So much worse.
His cock gave a twitch of agreement and he clamped his teeth tight. The cat part of him might have found the scenario amusing. Certainly, a cat could cuddle without hoping it’d lead to sex. He merely grunted in answer. What more could he do?

Apologize, maybe
.

Wasn’t that what normal men did when they did stupid shit and realized it? He didn’t want her upset at him. For fuck’s sake, she’d
just
said she liked him, and he had to go botch things by accusing her of being mildly treasonous. No wonder she hadn’t shared her news before. She probably thought he’d react exactly the way he did, and that wasn’t fair for her. “Listen, Miles, I—”