The Cougar's Trade (27 page)

Hank tipped his head toward the house again. “Please?”

She sighed. The goddess was noticeably absent in Miles’s head for once. The one time she would have liked to have had a little guidance, Lola was nowhere around.

“Fine.” She led him to the side door, which he pulled open for her. She stomped up the stairs and set the painting supplies on the washing machine. He nudged her a little farther into the house.

“Come on. If you’re going to argue with me, let’s at least do it in a room with chairs. I wanna show you something first, though.”

“What?”

He took her hand in both of his. “Come on. And watch your step over the sheet of plastic. I had to cover the floor.”

He led her through the kitchen and into the front room, and her jaw dropped so quickly the hinges popped. Everything was gone—the mess, the few pieces of furniture, the tools, the construction supplies. Blank slate, and with all the clutter taken away, she could appreciate the beauty of the room. The stripped wood trim, the built-in shelving along the long wall, the stone fireplace that had been swept out and screened. It was a
livable
space, potentially a warm one.

“Better?” he asked softly.

“Much, much better. Doesn’t look so…”

“Dilapidated?”

She nodded on a cringe. “Sorry.”

He gave her hands a little squeeze. “I told you to
trust
me, Miles. But that’s not what I wanted to show you.” He led her to the fireplace and plucked a book from the mantel. “I think you’ll find this enlightening.”

She lifted the front cover and studied the frontispiece and title page. “It’s her legend?”

“Everything about Cougar lore, really. I imagine most families around here had a copy of that book at some point. We should probably make it assigned reading since we’ve all but forgotten why we are what we are.”

“Have you read it?”

“Cover to cover last night after cleaning up in here. Out in the truck while keeping Sean company.” He leaned against the mantel and folded his arms over his chest. “I think in all this time we’ve been so critical of the goddess, we could have saved ourselves a little angst if we’d actually read the fucking instruction book. Isn’t that how it always works? We try to put shit together without knowing how to, and want to give up because certainly, something must be wrong. But then, we take one last try doing things in the order we’re supposed to. Voilà. Magic happens.”

She closed the book and set it gently on the mantel. “Is that why you and Hannah argued? Because you found some Cougar magic?” Certainly, he didn’t think she’d forgotten why she was angry so quickly.

“No. I went to ask her for the favor of having a conversation with Sean. Things…
escalated
.”

“But you let her out.”

“Took a lot of words before that happened.”

“What sorts of words?”

He cleared his throat and fixed his gaze on the ceiling. “Honest ones. That’s all I can say without breaching her trust, which is obviously very hard to come by. As her second, I’d like for her to trust me.”

“Hannah told you a secret?” That didn’t sound like Hannah.

“Accidentally, and I think she was ashamed by it. Not that it came out, but the nature of it.”

“Oh.” Miles would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious what that secret might be, but Hannah was a proud woman. For her to have been so affected by whatever it was, it had to have been something that scarred her deeply. Miles wouldn’t go picking at whatever it was. She’d have to wait for Hannah to come to her. She’d have to remind Hannah that it was
okay
for her to come, because she probably didn’t feel that way at the moment. Hannah probably thought the teams were stacked two to one with her being the holdout on the honorable side.

“I imagine she’ll talk to Sean when she has something to say. Hopefully soon, but…”

She nodded. Hank didn’t need to say it. She’d already talked to Sean and knew. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“Don’t apologize.” He put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed, kneading down to the tight knot at the top of her neck.
So good.
“I’m the one who should be saying sorry. Will you let me?”

“Sorry for what?”

“Making things hard. Taking my own fucking frustrations out on you. For feeling sorry for myself when I had no damn right to. I made the choice to stay here because I thought it was the right thing. The
guiltless
choice.”

“And now?”

“And now I think it would have been tough, but Dad, Mason, and Sean would have gotten along well enough without me, eventually. I mean, they couldn’t have done any worse. So while I don’t have guilt now, I have a lot of regrets. What-ifs fill my dreams every night, and make me wake up angry at the world. At
myself
. I don’t want any more of those. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She furrowed her brow. “I think so.”

“Do you? Because I’m saying I don’t want you to be one of those regrets. I don’t want to wake up one day and think
what if
. And I don’t want you to look back and think the same thing about me.”

“The only things I ever regret are not doing enough, and that’s rare, because I always try my hardest, but people have to let me try.”

“I want to let you try. You have a very important role here, and I’m sorry that everyone else figured that out before me. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to see
you
.”

So he understood.
Thank God
.

He tipped up her chin and met her upturned gaze. There seemed to be a question in his eyes and on his lips, so she nodded.

His kiss was tender, at first—it was a kiss with so much hesitation, she might have thought he was a little afraid of her. Afraid she’d refuse him. She wouldn’t, but that had never been their problem. A woman could be kept and still not wanted.

He tracked his hands up her arms and shoulders and pressed them to her cheeks, holding her face exactly where he wanted it as his tongue delved further and her neck caught a crick.

She winced.

He flinched. “No?”

Laughing, she rubbed her neck. “I’m short.”

“Oh.” He slung an arm around her waist, pressing her to him, and carried her to the stairs. He set her on the one that was two from the bottom and found her lips with his own again.

Better
. Discomfort alleviated, she allowed herself to touch. Touch always seemed to make a difference with Cougars—at least, the ones who’d allow it for themselves. They seemed happier. Hell, Tito may have been the most skin-starved man she’d ever met, but he seemed happier than most. He was
easy
to read and communicate with. Maybe there was some connection there. Maybe touch brought trust. Or perhaps it helped link that instinctual animal brain with the man one to help find a balance between needs and wants, and to understand that sometimes lines blurred.

Hank moaned at her hands’ quick tug of his waistband and kneading of his back. Pressing her own body tight to his as he balanced her precariously on that step, she found every kink and knot and massaged, letting her fingers learn his body the same way her tongue was learning his mouth.

His hands tracked down her back and cupped her rear, pulling her ever more against him, showing her his need and desire of her. When his fingers skimmed inside her pants, she pulled free of his kiss and whispered, “Upstairs.”

He grabbed her, and up they went, him carrying her as if she weighed nothing. A man on a mission, but that was fine, because she certainly had one of her own.

He set her on the end of the bed, and while he pulled off his boots, she started on her shirt buttons. “No.” He grabbed her wrists, kissed her hands, and set them atop her lap. “Let me.”

“Okay.”

So, she waited. Watched as he stripped, peeling off every layer of clothing, and this time not to shapeshift. He was disrobing for her inspection, and she was going to appreciate every naked inch of him. She’d never had time to just look, or else she hadn’t had the courage to.

He stepped into the gap between her open legs, giving her no choice but to see him.
Touch
him. Tacit permission.

She drew invisible lines and squiggles up the hard ridges of his belly and danced her fingertips over his nipples, ignoring the dull poke of his cock against her leg.
Not
ignoring the raspy, deep clicking in his chest that she wouldn’t have recognized as purring if she hadn’t heard him doing it that morning she’d woken up with bruised shins, or if she hadn’t heard Tito doing it.

Slowly, he unfastened her buttons, kissing the skin he revealed between each before going on to the next, and finally pushed her shirt down her shoulders.

“Convenient,” he murmured, giving her aroused nipples tiny compressions that sent little sparks down her spine and to her sex.

Digging her fingers into the meat of his back, she tipped back her head and let out a long sigh.
God
. “Um. I usually manage to find a bra for work. Just so you know.”

“Planning on leaving me already?”

Patting his hair, she considered her words carefully. She could speak plainly without setting off his animal instincts—the ones that said
chase.
“A girl’s gotta work. I can’t just draw on my inheritance.”

His fingers stilled over her breasts for a moment, then he moved his hands down her belly and unfastened her pants. “Yeah. I know. Before yesterday, I didn’t think separation anxiety was a real thing.”

“You’ll be okay.” She held herself up on her hands so he could wriggle down her pants.

He kissed the insides of her thighs as he pulled, and rolled his gaze up to her. “Are you sure?”

She shrugged. “Reasonably.”

He groaned and yanked her pants past her ankles. “I swear, I’ll never know what to do with you.”

“Just talk to me. That’s the best first step.”

“Not used to that.”

“I sort of figured that out. You’ve got to help me. I can’t get into your head unless you talk.”

He leaned her back and nudged her panties off. “That’s funny. My brothers like playing poker with me because they can read every single one of my tells.”

“That’s the opposite of what Ellery told me. Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’re actually smiling right now.”

“Am I not?” He furrowed his forehead and pursed his lips.

Her laugh came out a loud, high-pitched peal that had her slapping her hands over her mouth, and he grinned for real. It softened his face, deepened the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

If she hadn’t been sitting, she might have swooned. He was handsome even when he looked so severe and inaccessible, but when he smiled…well, he was too beautiful to look at straight-on.

She dropped her gaze, only for him to tilt up her chin. “When you look away, I think you don’t like it.”

“I do, and I don’t want you to stop. I won’t look away again.”

“Good.”

He moved to the dresser and rooted through the top drawer, finally drawing out a strip of condoms. “Amazing the things you find when you clean your house.” He ripped one off and returned to the bed, handing the square to her.

She took it, and massaged the perforated edge with her thumb, trying to read that inscrutable mien of his. With his hands clasped behind his back and him shifting his weight idly, she could tell that his pressed lips and slightly furrowed brow were signs of anxiety. He’d given her control for the moment and awaited her action. Her rejection. He was giving her a chance to say no.

She ripped the foil open and gestured for him to approach her.

Yet again, he stood between her legs, looking down alternately between her face and her hands, which were pressing the rolled disk against his cock head.

He didn’t help or hurry her, just watched, and let out a long exhalation when she wrapped her fist around the partially sheathed shaft and unfurled the latex down toward the base. He swallowed audibly and turned his gaze to the ceiling as she fondled his sac.

“Just so you know, Cougars tend to be superfertile. We’re cats, so…”

“So I shouldn’t take you unawares to jump your bones.”

“Not unless you’re on something.”

“I’m not.”

He gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I…”

She stood and somehow managed to get him to turn. “We can have that conversation later.” She was pretty sure the last thing any of the Foyes wanted at the moment was to bring new kids into the world while the hellmouth kept them tied up for hours at a time. She didn’t like the idea so much herself.

She pushed him to sitting and pressed her hands to his strong thighs. “Mind if I sit on your lap?”

“Not at all.”

“Mind helping me up?”

Chuckling, he scooped her up by the bottom and lowered her into his lap, immediately pressing his lips along the slope of her neck. “Much better than heaving you up into my truck.” He kneaded the skin at the base of her spine and worked upward as he kissed.

She put her head back and gave him full access to her neck. “Yes, your home away from home.”

“Sure feels like that sometimes. A routine I’d like to break as soon as possible.” He lashed his tongue down the column of her neck and crushed her breasts under his palms.

She pushed her knees against the mattress and braced herself in front of him, catching his questioning green gaze when he looked up at her. “Could you help me?”

“I like that you ask, but what specifically are you asking me?”

“I only have two hands, and right now they’re here.” She brushed her fingertips against his back and fixed her knees for balance. “I’d rather hold on to you than check your position.”

He pulled the nearby nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it a few torturous beats before letting it go. “You don’t have to let go. You don’t really need my help, either. You always have a knack for knowing your place.” He kissed along the line of her collarbone and dug his fingers into the meat of her ass. “And what to do. That’s instinct.”

“Really?” She let herself down a few inches and stopped when the end of his hard shaft met her entrance.

He started making that purring sound again. “Mm-hmm. Any Cougar would envy it. We may have it, but…
gods.
” His grip on her went even more desperate as she pulled him inside. “We may not be tuned in to it. Tuning in is the hard part.”