One
Lara
Was it stupid to be nervous?
It was a night, like any other night.
After a day, like any other day.
Sure, it could be said that those days and nights were a little more unusual than most, what with the fact that my husband was a kumiho shifter, pretending to be a wolf shifter so he could lead a pack. I mean, it had never been that exciting before I’d entered this bizarre world thanks to a twist of fate…
Still, there was no getting away from the fact that though my mate was eying me up like I was a quadruple burger with cheese and he was a starving man—he was regularly starving around me, with eyes that made me melt worse than the cheese on the burger—it was different.
Not different bad.
Just… different.
“We’re not ready for this.”
He pulled a face. “I know.”
“Can’t we just wait?” I tugged at his hand, hoping he’d agree with me, but as always, he was calm in the face of our destiny.
“It doesn’t work like that.”
My scowl was irritable, just like I’d been the last few weeks, in all honesty.
His lips twitched as he reached up and ran his fingers along the curve of my jaw. “This, my life, is why there’s no hiding from what’s happening.”
I huffed. “Maybe I’m just a bitch now.”
“No,” he denied. “That’s not true. You’re a loving, caring, affectionate woman.”
My nose crinkled. “Well, maybe I’m Mrs. Hyde. Every woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”
“But her character?” He shook his head. “No. You’re going into heat.”
“Kali Sara,” I grumbled. “I wish you wouldn’t call it that.”
He tapped my nose. “It’s what it’s called. I can lie to you, if you’d prefer.”
“No,” I mumbled, dipping my head.
There was no evading the truth.
I was horny. All the time.
And seriously, my man had a dick worthy of a Viagra prescription. You’d think I’d be sore with how often he was in me. It was a wonder we got anything done, for God’s sake—that was how often we were glued together.
My temper ran wickedly hot. I made a volcano look friendly at the moment. Unless Todd was fucking me, that is. The second his dick slid home? Ahh, well, I cheered up really fast.
Then, there was how I was eating. I mean, I had an odd relationship with food. I knew Sabina, my sister, was the same. It was because of too many nights going to bed hungry as a kid, so we stuffed our faces when the good times rolled around. But this was different.
I wasn’t eating snack food and junk food. I was eating vegetables.
VEG-E-TABLES.
Process that.
I was binging on carrots like they were going to die out in the next apocalypse. I was going to turn into a potato if I wasn’t careful. And I wasn’t even talking about fried potatoes—fries or hash browns. Nope. Boiled. Usually in stews. Stews so loaded with vegetables it was like I was turning vegan only nobody had given me Joaquin Phoenix’s phone number for tips and hints.
According to my man, the veggies, the horniness, and the moods had all been leading up to today.
The day I turned into a dog.
Well, not literally.
Just… like a bitch in heat. A horn dog! Get it?
“I don’t want kids yet.”
“I know.”
He was so damn reasonable that I had to glare at him. He only smiled at me, and fuck, that smile always had me twitching on the inside because it was his way of telling me, without a word, that he loved me even though I was being a pain in the ass.
In four months of being together, since the shit had hit the fan in a big way and I’d ascended to the position of Moon Child, we hadn’t argued once.
It was impossible to argue with him. Sure, he could be stubborn, and he was set in his ways where certain things were concerned, but who wasn’t? He’d just smile at me when I was getting grumpy, and it would be like being smacked in the face with a reminder that he loved me.
That I was his mate.
That, without me, he was nothing.
That, together, we were everything.
Heady stuff. No wonder I always sucked in a breath at the sight of it, and fell into his eyes. Usually his kiss. And then into bed we danced.
Tonight, though, when we did the horizontal tango, things would change.
Forever.
“I want more time alone,” I half-whined.
“I know.”
“I don’t want a baby yet.”
“I know.”
“Don’t you feel the same way?” I complained.
Having been swinging on a bench on the verandah that curved around the Rainford packhouse, he twisted around slightly, and before I knew it, I was no longer on my side of the bench and he on his, I was on his lap. Straddling him.
Dude had killer moves.
His hands moved up to my cheeks, which he cupped, and he stared at me like the meteor in Armageddon was going to fall, like he saw nothing else, and murmured, “I want you to myself for a lifetime. But our child is important. The Mother has decided now is the time he should come to be.” For a second, I saw a flash of irritation whisper into his eyes, turning the brown orbs I loved, golden. Just a smidge. “I’d love nothing more than to give you everything you want, my darling, but I can’t. No condoms will stop this from happening. And your temper, your need for sex, none of it will abate until my seed takes root.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “I love you. I guess I’ll love your kid too.”
A genuine laugh escaped him. “I hope so.” He reached up, his fingers tracing down the single tear track on my cheek. “I love you too. Why are you crying?”
“Because sometimes I just forget how much I love you. I mean, there’s, like, love, and then there’s love. I’ve only had this for four months, Todd. Then I look into your eyes and I know it’s forever. That we’re forever, and it’s overwhelming and wonderful and it makes me so happy I can’t stand it.”
His lips twitched, but he held my ass in his hand and surged into a standing position. I didn’t bother squeaking, well accustomed to his acrobatic moves—the last guy I’d been with had grunted whenever we’d flipped over on the bed from cowboy to doggy—and instead, wrapped my arms around his neck and let our mouths join.
We didn’t head inside. His grandparents were there, and they had more ears than the kumiho had tails. I swore, they always knew when we were banging, and I’d always get disapproving looks as if I was sullying their flesh and blood with my wicked ways.
Todd said they were thinking nothing of the sort, but it was hard to get to know them when they barely spoke English.
I nipped his bottom lip and, pulling back, mumbled, “Run.”
His eyes lit up, and he did. Moving so fast that, within seconds, we were away from the packhouse and deep in the forest.
His head cocked to the side as he scanned the area, and though I wanted to suck on his neck and do my best Spike impression, I didn’t. I let him focus.
This was important.
When he started moving, heading toward a tree trunk, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and shucked it over my chest. Throwing it on the ground, I reached behind to unclasp my bra and that sailed through the air too.