Love bytes, p.20
Love Bytes, page 20
He lay with his head on her chest, spent, panting, rising and falling with her breathing. Her body relaxed by degrees under him and she drew in a ragged breath, one hand sliding slowly down to his backside, its claws tickling his skin, the other caressing his head.
“Holy shit…” she panted after a long moment.
He kissed the apex of her cleavage. “My thoughts exactly…”
“I’ve never…it just…damn.” She glanced down at him, her glasses askew on her face. “You’re going to think this is pathetic, but I’ve never orgasmed with a man before.”
“You mean with this body?” he asked, reaching up and straightening her glasses for her.
“With any body.” She heaved him up higher on her chest and bear-hugged him, then rolled on her side and let him slide onto the mattress.
He skootched up and kissed her gently. She sealed her mouth over his, pressing his head into the pillow, then moved down to the side of his neck, opening her mouth wide and gently dragging her fangs along his skin.
“I think I like this dance the most,” she rumbled into his ear, the rush of her breath furnace-hot on his skin. “Teach me more later?”
“Lots of practice is required,” he said, giving her his best serious dance instructor look. “You up to it?”
“Mm-hmmm,” she hummed, slipping her glasses off and placing them on the nightstand. “More importantly, are you?” She reached over him and switched off the bedside lamp, gathering his body against hers in dim light filtering through the bedroom windows.
Alex lay facing her, watching as she closed her eyes and relaxed into her pillow. So beautiful…
Crack!
Cynthia’s eyes snapped open. “What was that?”
Alex started to sit up. “I don’t know. It sounded like—"
Snap!
The mattress plummeted to the floor a foot below. His stomach somersaulted as he and Cynthia went weightless for an instant, bouncing off the mattress as the headboard slowly tipped over on top of them.
“—like it came from the bed frame,” he finished.
She pushed the wrecked headboard up and stared wide eyed at him. “I think we blew your bed out.”
“Seems that way.” He laughed and raised his hand for a high five.
She giggled and patted his hand lightly, lacing her fingers with his. “I’ll buy you a new bed. One that’s built for big bodies like mine.”
He crushed her lips with his, pushing her head back onto her pillow, and then smiled at her. “I’ll take you up on that because we are so going to need it.”
Chapter twenty-two
Avocado Toast
Alex opened his eyes in the early morning light. His pillow was much firmer and thicker than he remembered, the pillowcase soft on his cheek. Cynthia stirred next to him and as he became more aware of his surroundings, he found she had snuggled next to him, her front to his back, and his “pillow” was actually her left bicep. The top of his head was under her chin and her right arm was draped across his chest.
He lay there for a few minutes until the rather urgent need to pee forced him to get up. Or try to, at least. The moment he tried to ease out from under her arm she pulled him closer as she slept, hugging him firmly like a child hugging her teddy bear. He wanted to stay, but his bladder had other ideas.
“Cynthia?” he said softly.
No response.
He found her right hand and squeezed it. “Cynthia, I gotta get up.”
“Hmmm?” she hummed quietly.
“I gotta get up, sweetie, ‘kay?”
Her eyelids fluttered. “‘kay.”
He took her hand, lifted her heavy arm and slid out from under it on his back, letting it rest gently on a pillow. Glancing down at her, he couldn’t help but marvel how she completely filled his ruined queen-sized bed; no wonder he’d wound up deeply nestled in her embrace.
Alex took care of business and padded to the kitchen wearing a pair of pajama bottoms that had been hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He picked an avocado from a bowl on the counter next to the sink, turning it over in his hands, thinking. Reaching for his phone, he texted his staff.
Staff strategy breakfast is postponed. Something came up overnight.
Cassandra replied almost immediately.
i’m thinking that something was you. say hi to Cynthia for us.
He chuckled when he read her snarky text. I love you to death, smartass. Despite all the challenges, Cass had never abandoned him or Rosalee. He almost didn’t reply, then sent a thumbs up. There was no way he could hide their relationship now. Fuck, he didn’t even want to.
He opened the refrigerator and peered inside, pulling out a loaf of thick seedy bread and a carton of eggs, flipping its lid open. Good, it was a whole carton. The way Cynthia ate, he’d need all of them.
Coffee grounds and water went into the coffee maker and began brewing.
He slit two avocados open and popped out the big brown seeds, dropping them into the trash can, then scooped out the flawless green flesh into a bowl. He didn’t have many talents besides ballroom dancing, but one he was especially good at was picking out avocados at exactly the right time for them to hit peak ripeness when he needed them. It was an astonishingly useful skill, and he had no idea where he got it.
He mashed the avocado, added chopped onion, garlic and cumin powder and a squeeze of lime juice, then spread it thickly onto the bread slices when they came out of the toaster oven, one slice for him and six for Cynthia. He scrambled half the eggs, put a big dollop in the center of each slice, a shake of Creole seasoning on top, and onto a large platter her slices went. The battle-scarred tray he used for condiments at deck parties would have to suffice as a serving tray. He poured a large glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee, nestling them in the corners of the tray next to the platter.
Balancing her tray on one hand and carrying his plate with the other, Alex padded out of the kitchen and down the hallway to his bedroom, where he found Cynthia sleeping on her stomach on the collapsed bed, her long red hair splayed over her shoulders. The sheets covered her backside and part of one leg, the morning light streaming through the window casting her massive back muscles into sharp relief. Her feet were well off the end of the mattress, their dark soles contrasting with the white bedspread lying rumpled on the floor.
“Cynthia,” he called quietly. “Sweetie, I have some breakfast for you.”
She stirred, then rolled onto her side, eyes closed. “Hmmm?”
“Breakfast. I made some avocado toast for you. And there’s coffee and orange juice, too. Wake up, sweetheart.”
She pushed herself to sitting and leaned against the loose headboard, covering her front with the sheet and rubbing her eyes. “You made me breakfast?”
“I did,” he said as his eyes focused on her ears. His hand drifted to the top of his head. “Um, one of your ears is sort of…folded inside out.”
Her hand darted to the top of her head and she rolled her eyes, flipping the ear up. It snapped into place. “Ugh, I hate when that happens.”
“I think it’s cute.” He placed the tray in her lap, then crawled in bed next to her with his plate. “Go ahead, try it.”
She picked up a slice and admired the bright yellow egg piled atop the green avocado. It looked like a cracker in her big hand. “It’s very pretty,” she said, examining it closely. She took a bite and her eyes went wide, staring in shock at the toast in her hand. “What? How?”
“How what?”
She shook her head, looking from the toast to him and back again. “How did you make it taste so good?”
Alex’s heart leaped at her reaction, but he hid his delight and shrugged. “It’s just avocado toast.”
“That’s my point,” she said emphatically. “It’s just toast, but…I’ve never tasted anything so good. First the margarita, now this?” She took another bite, shaking her head again. “Alex, where did you learn to do this?”
He took a bite of his slice and chewed for a moment. “I worked in some restaurants in Buckhead for a few years after high school and before I started working for Rosalee. Got to know my way around food and flavors. Cooking and ballroom are two of my skills, I suppose, and I don’t have many.”
She paused, staring down at her plate, nudging the slices into a precisely symmetric circle. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
Her ears tipped back. “Last night, did you…what we did…was my performance…was it truly optimum for you? Because I feel like I should apologize if it wasn’t.” She nudged a slice on her plate into better alignment with the others. “I’ve been told I’m not good at it…and I’ll understand if that’s your assessment as well.”
He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again and thought for a moment. “Sweetheart, for me there was last night with you,” he said, holding a hand high and level, then lowered it quickly, burying it deep in the sheets, “and then there’s every other time. There’s no comparison. For god’s sake, we destroyed my bed.”
Her ears went up. “So, it was optimum?”
He gave her a serious look, even though he wanted to laugh. “Yes, it was as optimum as optimum can be.”
She smiled. “It was optimum for me too,” she said, picking up her next slice and turning it slowly to inspect it. “I could fucking live on this stuff. In addition to this and dancing, I’ll add what we did last night to your list of superpower skills.”
Alex felt something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time: pride. He laughed. “Making love to you is one of my superpowers? You know how to make a guy feel good.” He took a bite of his toast and chewed thoughtfully. “I’m incredibly proud of you, you know.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Me? Fo whut?” she asked around a mouthful.
“Everything you’ve been doing. I know it’s been hard on you, getting out there in front of everyone with that new body of yours. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”
She paused for a moment and swallowed. “I’m sort of used to being different. I’m a female nerd after all, and in some ways that’s even worse than being a lycanth. Only now they can also hate me on sight, as you’ve seen.”
He cringed. He’d been a lot of things in his life, but he was pretty sure he’d never been hated just for being Alex. “Yeah, well, those people aren’t worth the powder and lead to blow them to hell. But,” he said, placing his empty plate on the nightstand, getting on his knees, and facing her, “you and me against the world. I got your back.”
She leaned toward him and gave him a peck on the lips. “There’s something I want to show you. It’s in my purse in the living room. Could you go get it for me?”
“Sure.” Alex hurried out of the room, leaving Cynthia to crunch on more toast, and returned with her purse. She put her toast fragment on her platter, pulled a picture out of her wallet, and handed it to him.
Two young women stood arm in arm in front of a park bench. He recognized the lake in the background as Lake Clara Meer in Piedmont Park, the Atlanta skyline looming over the trees. He thought he recognized one of the women. “Isn’t the one on the right your friend Diane?”
She peered over at the picture. “Yes. That was about six years ago.”
The shorts and t-shirt clad woman on the left was much shorter, thin to the point of frailty. She stood shyly next to Diane, not smiling, her red hair parted in the middle and pulled back tightly. Big, round glasses framed big round eyes.
Glasses exactly like Cynthia’s.
He pointed at the redhead. “And this is you? Before you Turned?”
She nodded. “That’s me. Or was.”
“Wow, that’s…you,” he said slowly. If she had been a student at RDS he knew he wouldn’t have noticed her, and it made him feel like the shallow ass he’d always feared he was.
“What do you think?” she asked, tipping her head and looking him in the eyes.
Alex handed the picture back to her. “I think the woman in the picture is even more beautiful now.”
She snorted, tipping up her juice glass. “Not sure about that. But thank you.”
He scowled. “No, I’m serious. And you know something? I think what you are now,” he said, motioning down her long body, “that’s what you’ve been all along. We’re just able to see the real you now and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
She smiled at him. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“How tall were you then?”
“Five-one.”
“And now you’re…”
“Eight-two, not counting my ears.”
“Wow.” He was getting a hard on just thinking about her size. “Rosalee was five eleven and grew to seven four, and even that was hard for her to deal with. It must’ve been quite the shock when you first woke up.”
She gave him a wry smile. “It was, but try waking up and finding you have a tail.”
He shook his head, unable to imagine what it must have been like. “That had to be a shocker.”
Cynthia leaned to one side and swept her tail out from under her, lifting its end and showing it to him. “For the first few months I kept forgetting about it when I went to the bathroom, and it would dip in the toilet when I sat down.”
Alex snorted and tried to stifle a laugh.
She swatted him on the shoulder. “It’s not funny.”
“I’m sorry. Rosalee had the same thing happen.”
“At least it wasn’t just me.” She held up her glass. “I could use more orange juice. How about we continue in the kitchen where hopefully there’s more avocado toast?”
“You’re in luck. There is or at least can be.” As Alex crawled to the edge of the bed, he paused and picked a tuft of brown fur off the mattress.
Cynthia cringed and tried to brush other tufts off the crumpled sheet. “Heh. Sorry. It’s Spring and I…uh…shed…a little…when it’s getting warmer.”
“Oh, is that what that is.” He crawled back onto the bed and kissed her. “No worries. You can shed on my sheets any time you want.”
Cynthia slid off the end of the bed and picked up her panties, sliding them on and hooking the waistband together above her tail. She pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped her body up to her armpits in it, rolling the top edge so it would stay put. “I guess I need to leave a robe here. No way this big body’s going to fit into one of yours.”
The thought of her busting out of his bathrobe made his heart jump along with another part of him. He picked up her tray and led her down the hallway and into the kitchen where he put her platter with its remaining toast slice on the table and pulled two chairs side by side for her. She eased herself onto the chairs, testing them before putting her full weight on them.
“I could use more coffee too,” she said, holding out her big mug.
Alex eyed the coffee pot. “Looks like there’s about a cup left.” He gave her a sly grin. “Arm wrestle you for it.”
She smirked and drained the remaining coffee from her cup. “Yeah, right.”
Alex feigned victory. “If you’re too scared to challenge me, then I guess that cup’s mine.”
She glared at him, put her cup down and placed her right elbow on the table, holding her hand up in challenge.
He pulled up a chair opposite her and placed his elbow on the table.
She dropped her hand to the level of his. “Runt,” she growled.
“We’ll see about that,” he countered.
Her warm hand engulfed his, the thick fingers wrapping around it.
“On three,” he said. “Ready?”
A corner of her mouth curled and her eyes narrowed. “Ready.”
“One…two…three!” He pivoted his hand suddenly into hers, throwing his weight into it, and saw her bicep twitch ever so slightly.
Nothing moved.
Nothing.
Like, at all.
He hooked a leg around the table leg and hauled harder, making exactly zero progress. He was an ant trying to move a block of granite.
The other corner of her mouth quirked up. “Can I pour my coffee now?”
“Not…giving…up…yet,” he gritted out, straining against her hand and bringing his left arm into the fray to no avail. She yawned and examined the claws on her free hand. He didn’t know whether to be enraged or turned on.
Cynthia let him fuss and fume and struggle against her grip as she picked up the pot from the counter behind her, poured the remaining coffee into her mug, spooned sugar into it, and topped it off with extra milk without spilling a drop. She sipped at it casually.
“Ready to give up?”
“Never,” he growled, trying not to laugh, his face reddening as he heaved harder against her hand.
“I see.” Placing her cup on the table, she bared her fangs at him and slammed his arm effortlessly to the tabletop.
He lurched onto the table, pinned. “Holy fuck,” he gasped. The power she’d delivered was frightening.
She raised her arms to the sides and flexed her biceps, letting the bed sheet fall from her body as she rocked from side to side, bare chested and triumphant. “I win.”
He stared at her bulging biceps and massive lats and the biggest, most perfect breasts he’d ever seen. “You’re incredible,” he said, standing up and leaning across the table to kiss her. “I mean, I couldn’t even make you budge.”
“Nope.” She took another sip from her cup and flexed her arm again. “Math wuffy also be strong.”
“You’re the victor, and to the victor go the spoils,” he said. “What do you want, besides the coffee and more toast?” He hoped she would say another trip to the bedroom and the ruined bed on the floor.
She paused, staring into her cup. When she looked into his eyes again she wasn’t smiling.
“I want to meet Rosalee.”
