“Murr…touch wrong? Dakota bossy…then Murr touch right?” He eyes me with a sly expression.

I sputter. “I wasn’t correcting you. You were doing just fine. It was just…”

“Just?” he nudges.

Did I hurt his feelings? That’s the last thing I want. I kiss him, wanting to reassure him. “I just didn’t want you to stay down there forever because I was overthinking things. I figured I wasn’t going to come if I didn’t say something. I didn’t want you to waste your time. I’m sorry if it came across poorly.”

His eyes flicker with something unreadable. “Waste time?” He moves his hand between my thighs, where I’m still wet and my thighs are sticky with his release. “Here is waste time?”

“No, no. I just didn’t want you to take too long.”

“Explain.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

He blinks, clearly not following.”…explain. Why not fair?”

Flummoxed, I struggle to word it properly. “I guess because it’s too much effort.”

Those are the wrong words. Murr gives me an incredulous look. “Too much effort?”

“Yes!” I can feel my face getting hot. “The longer you’re down there, the more I think about how long you’re down there, and then I just can’t stop thinking, and then I won’t be able to come at all. I don’t want you to feel like making love to me is some hour-long chore⁠—”

“Dakota,” he interrupts with another shake of his head. “No.”

“No, what?”

“No effort,” he says, his hand drifting between my thighs again. Murr gentles his voice, his fingers finding my clit and rubbing again. “No chore. Long time here, good. All good. Perfect. Yes?”

For a man with a limited vocabulary, he’s pretty great at making me feel better about myself. “I’m sorry. I won’t give directions again.”

“Directions good,” he clarifies, rubbing his nose against mine. His fingers stroke through my wetness, easing my thighs apart again. “Bossy good. Murr want Dakota come. Yes?”

“Yes,” I whimper as he eases a finger into me.

“Dakota come for Murr,” he tells me between soft kisses. “Long time, short time, all good. Yes?”

“Yes.”

He does make me come again. It isn’t instant, but it’s not hours, either. He happily demonstrates to me that he’s willing (and thrilled) to be between my thighs for as long as it takes.

With his enthusiasm and his tongue, however, it doesn’t take long at all.

OceanofPDF.com

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 75

DAKOTA

It’s so hard to crawl out of our makeshift bed the next morning, knowing that I have to return to my life. It’s not that I dislike my life. I actually love it and love my daughter to pieces…but it’s been so nice to have a reprieve for a few hours. To think about nothing and no one except for the big, golden man currently nibbling on my shoulder, edging towards the bite mark.

“We should probably go soon,” I tell him.

“Soon,” he agrees, and kisses my throat.

“Soon” ends up being more like “noon,” but when my stomach growls for lunch, I know we need to return. With my canteen of water, I clean up all my bits as best I can, because I don’t want to return to the others reeking of sex. I share with Murr, who mops himself with an amused look.

“Want fly river? Lake?” he asks. “Swim? Big clean.”

I’m tempted. Rabbit would love to see a lake, and fish sounds nice after a steady diet of red meat. I am not complaining about the red meat, though, because I’m just thrilled to have a full belly. “Maybe tomorrow. We need to check on everyone.”

Murr nods thoughtfully. “Feed everyone.”

“That, too.” I get to my feet and pull my worn jeans up over my legs. “Feed everyone, check on the supplies, check on the puppies, make sure we’ve had no visitors…”

Just thinking about all of it is making me nervous. Now that I’m on the other side of the night of pleasure, I feel guilty for leaving the others for so long. Was it selfish of us? I squash the feeling and hunt for my sports bra, tossed into a nearby pile of junk, and brush a few dead leaves off of the sweat-wicking fabric.

Murr just watches me with amusement. He shifts his leg, tapping my foot with his big toe. “Dakota good?”

“I will be once I know everyone’s fine.” I shove my shirt over my head. “You should get dressed too. You’re coming home with me, right?”

He gets to his feet in one big sinuous motion that makes me think he could have been a dancer in another life. I hold his loin wrap out to him but he ignores it, cupping my face and planting another long, thorough kiss on my mouth. It leaves me dazed and blinking, and he grins down at me. “All good. Dakota need…” He searches for the word and then takes a big, exaggerated breath.

“I am breathing. I’m calm. I am. I just want to make sure everything’s all good. It’s my first night away from home, that’s all.” I try to laugh as if he’s being silly, but it comes out a little higher pitched than I’d like.

Murr kisses me again. “All good,” he says softly, giving me a gentle squeeze at the base of my head. “No scents.”

He can’t smell any intruders, and he’s trying to reassure me. It’s sweet, but given that I can smell nothing but sex in the air, I’m not entirely sure his nose isn’t malfunctioning at the moment. “I know everything’s fine. This is just the longest I’ve ever been away from Rabbit.”

The big dragon-man nods to reassure me. He takes the wrap from my hands. “We go.”

When we get back, it’s like they didn’t even miss us. Aggie’s got a Dolly-Parton-esque wig on her head, and she’s holding a cat while Rabbit medicates its eyes. Dottie has her knitting in her lap, her needles clacking away.

“’Bout time,” is all Dottie says, a smirk on her face.

I stick my tongue out at her like a child, heading straight for my daughter and obsessively looking her over like the helicopter mom I’m trying not to be. “We’re home,” I announce unnecessarily. “How was everything? All quiet? What did you eat for dinner? Did you sleep all right?”

“Everything was fine, Mom. You guys weren’t gone that long.” Rabbit barely glances at me as she gently massages the medication onto the squirming cat’s eyelid.

It launches itself free of Aggie’s grip and howls a protest, heading straight for Murr. He scoops up the cat and holds it against his chest, scratching at its ears. Aggie shoots me a look as if I’m the one that made her release the cat. Dottie doesn’t even look up. It feels…deflating. Here I was, worried about these three, and they don’t give a flying fart.

“I got you a postcard,” I tell my daughter, feeling lame.

She wipes her hands clean. “Cool.” Rabbit gets to her feet and eyes the cats milling about. There are a few sprawled on the pavement, and more are inside, but none of them seem to make her happy. “Where’s Beaker? He was squinting yesterday. I want to get a good look at him.”

“Which one is Beaker?” I ask.

“The big orange.”

“Half of ’em are orange,” Aggie grumps. “Gonna have to narrow it down.”

“The one that’s squinting,” Rabbit says, unbothered. “I’ll go find him.”

“You don’t want your postcard?” I ask, feeling needy and unneeded at the same time. In the past, Rabbit’s always been beside herself with excitement over a new postcard for her scrapbook, but now she doesn’t even want to look? I get that cats are more interesting than a piece of paper, but…damn.

I don’t like change, and this feels like change.

Rabbit tosses me a sideways look. “I’ll see it when I get back!” Then she’s off, heading across the parking lot and pausing to check under cars.