Freakn' Shifters Bundle (3-in-1) (36 page)

She sighed.

“I take it he left?”

“Of course he did. Progress doesn’t mean he’s ready to admit he has feelings for me even if every time you’re mentioned he turns absolutely green.”

“Has he at least kissed you yet?”

Francine blushed, tongue tied at the question.
Exactly what is the protocol to admitting to your lover that you’ve let another man kiss you?

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. I’ll be damned. Looks like you might get what you’ve wanted, baby.”

The surreal tenor of the conversation threw her for a loop. “How come you’re so casual about this? Hell, even so encouraging? Most guys would be… Jealous and freakn’.”

“And chance losing you? No thanks. I’m not blind or stupid. You’ve wanted Mitchell pretty much all your life. If I forced you to choose between us, there’s a possibility I wouldn’t win. Seems pretty dumb to act the part of jealous idiot, like a certain dog I know, given I know a three-way relationship can work. Just look at Naomi and her men. I don’t see why we can’t enjoy the same thing. Don’t get me wrong, a part of me would love to strangle the dog and throw him off a cliff, but ultimately, it’s what you need that counts. I’m not saying we won’t have to make adjustments. But I’m willing. The bigger question is, can Mitchell cope?”

Remembering Mitchell’s rigid countenance, she sighed. “Not likely.”

“Don’t sound so negative, baby. Fate wouldn’t have picked us both if it didn’t think it would work. But I do think it will be easier if he’s already claimed you before I come back. Because no matter what he thinks or wants, I won’t go another day without making you mine.”

“You seem too sure I’m going to let you,” she teased even as she knew she would, probably the moment they tumbled naked into bed.

“You forget, I know your sweet spots.”

“I miss you,” she whispered, just as Mitchell came back in the room holding two cans of pop.

“Me too, baby. Tell Mitchell to kiss you for me, and be prepared for the real thing sometime tomorrow. Dream of me.”

“Bye.” She hung up, sad and missing Alejandro, who, despite his short tenure in her life, left his mark.

Crouching at the side of the bed, Mitchell deposited the cans on the nightstand and peered at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. He’s almost caught the guy and should be back tomorrow.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, other than he misses me and wants to mark me, pretty much. Oh, he did also say to kiss me for him,” she said saucily.

“Usually, I’d tell the cat where he can shove his orders, but this is one time I think I should do as he says,” Mitchell murmured. He tilted her face for a kiss, but she put a hand up and held him off.

“Are you sure you want to do this? He’s going to mark me when he gets back.”

“And?”

She growled. “Fine. Make me say it. What are your intentions toward me, Mitchell?”

“Can’t we just kiss?”

“And you talk about Jag being the seducer. At least he’s offering me a future.”

Clambering onto the bed first, nudging her in the process, Mitchell rolled onto his back and laced his hand behind his head. Then he let out a big sigh. “My intentions? Honestly? I don’t know, Red. A part of me wants you so fucking bad, it hurts.”

“So jerk one off in the shower.”

He tossed a glare her way. She grinned. “Not just that kind of pain, smart ass,” he grumbled. “And for your information I have, numerous times and it’s not working.”

“Oh.” She almost gulped at his roundabout admission that he cared. “So what’s the problem then?”

“You’re planning to let that cat mark you and become your mate.”

She wouldn’t lie, not for something this important. “Yes, I am. It doesn’t mean I don’t want you too. I still want you as much as I ever did, Mitchell.”

Another loud sigh emerged from him, deflating him so that he slumped. “And I’m realizing more and more that I want you as well, even if parts of me are still reconciling the new sexy you with the little girl I used to know. But, that part is getting easier and easier. What I don’t know is if I can share. The idea of a threesome… If we’re being honest, then I have to admit, it kind of wigs me out.”

Great, Mitchell finally admitted to caring for her—and that he found her hot, which totally rocked—and she was chasing him away because she’d fallen in love with a second man. Why couldn’t her love life have stayed simple?

She placed her hand on his thigh. “Nobody’s saying if you both claim me that we need to have three-way sex. Some ménages do, others don’t.”

“How the hell would you know about threesomes?”

A smile crossed her lips. “Naomi’s situation is not the first I’ve encountered. My aunt Belinda actually had three mates. My great grandma Josephine had a pair. You could say it kind of runs in the family. And while my mom used to cover my ears whenever my aunt decided to relate some particularly racy exploit, great grandma was very prim and proper despite her ménage marriage. My great grandpas each had their own rooms and from what I understood, took turns. Heck, they even had a calendar with a schedule, which I’ll admit I didn’t clue in to for years.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Maybe to some people, but it worked for them. And it could work for us. I would never make you do something you’re not comfortable with. If having you means only enjoying hot one-on-one sex with screaming orgasms, then I think I can manage.” She grinned at him. “Don’t you know? I’d do just about anything to have you as my mate?”

“Don’t remind me. I still shudder at the smell of watermelon bubblegum.”

She thumped a fist on thigh. “Jerk. Now is not the time to discuss how you crushed my childhood dreams.”

“And what are your adult ones?” he asked, grabbing her pummeling fist and enveloping it in his hand.

She stilled. “My fantasy, which I’ll admit has recently been upgraded, involves being mated to two wonderful, yet different men, who worship the ground I walk on, and do totally wicked things to my body.”

“What if I wanted to do nice things?”

“As long as you use your tongue and cock, I think I can manage.”

“Francine, that is vulgar.”

“Oh don’t be such a prude. Don’t forget, I used to spy on you when you were younger and you’ve said way worse than that.”

“You are so asking for a spanking,” he growled.

“Why Mitchell, I never knew you were into kink,” she replied, batting her eyes lashes.

He groaned and covered his face with his hands, muttering, “Why me?”

She giggled. “Oh admit it. Life with me would definitely never bore you.”

“No, but I can see sore knuckles and broken noses in my future if you insist on claiming that cat.”

“You’ll heal. Besides, think of the fun you’ll have when I kiss your booboo’s better.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Tapping her chin, she pretended to think. “Yes, yes I do. But you,” she said, fixing him with a stare, “have every excuse not to.”

“Fine. Let’s say I, um, did claim you. And the seducer did too. You really think we could make it work?” he asked, skepticism in his tone. “I don’t know if I could keep myself from killing the cat if I saw him touching you.”

“Which is why we could do it just like my great grandma did. Okay, that sounds so wrong and is not the mental image I want right now.”

Mitchell chuckled. “What, you don’t like thinking of your great grandpa chasing your squealing great grandma around the kitchen while your other grandpa watches, waiting his turn?”

A moue of distaste crossed her face. “It excites me as much as I’m sure the thought of your father doing your mother on the dining room table does.”

“They’ve never done that,” he adamantly replied.

She arched a brow. “Oh really? Tell that to the ass marks Naomi had to polish off the surface wearing rubber gloves.”

He blanched and she grinned triumphantly.

“Can we change the subject?”

“Sure. I believe we were talking about coming up with a schedule so that I could have both you and Alejandro in my life.”

“If I choose to mark you. I’m still on the fence.”

She jabbed her elbow in his gut and he grunted. “Stop lying or I’ll tell your mama and she’ll get the soap.”

“You really are annoying sometimes,” he grumbled.

“It’s part of my charm. Admit it. You enjoy it.”

“Will not.”

“Liar. Do you prefer Ivory or Irish Spring?”

“Fine. Fine. It’s kind of enjoyable. Happy now?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, beaming at him. “So, what do you think of my idea?”

“This is the most fucked up conversation ever. I assume you mean your suggestion of taking turns being with you? You’d go for that?”

“If it meant having you as well as Alejandro, then yes. I can compromise. I want you, Mitchell. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I never imagined, though, I’d have to share you, especially with another man.”

“Okay that sounds gross when you put it that way.”

She laughed. “You know what I mean. But it does depend on you. Alejandro will claim me when he returns.”

“If he returns.”

“When he returns,” she restated. “I guess the only question left is, will you claim me too?”

“I—” He paused. His brow knitted in confusion while his eyes spoke of longing. As for his cock. Oh yes, definite tenting action.

“You can say it,” she coaxed. “I won’t bite—hard—until you do.”

“I—”

A shriek sounded. “Naomi!” they both exclaimed, him with a note of relief. Mitchell helped her up and supported her as they made their way out of the bedroom to the living room where Naomi paced, ranting at the top of her lungs.

“Unfucking believable. How fucking dare she? That ho! That bloody, dirty skank. I’m going to rip—Oh, hey there, Francine. What are you doing up? You’re supposed to be in bed.”

Her possessed friend pasted a fake smile meant to look reassuring on her face, but rage glistened in her eyes. Francine, plopping onto the couch, careful not to lean back, would have none of it. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“I’m not wearing any. So nothing.”

“Eeew!” Mitchell exclaimed.

“Oh shut it, crotch sniffer,” his sister snarled. “No one’s talking to you.”

“Naomi, be nice!” Javier said in a firm tone. “It’s not his fault you’re upset. And besides, you know he’s going to go ballistic when he finds out. Won’t that be fun?”

“Find out what?” Mitchell asked, sitting on the arm of the couch beside Francine.

“That fucking skanky ho with the slutty—” Javier put his hand over Naomi’s mouth, silencing her, not quite managing to hide the wince when she bit him.

Ethan shook his head. “She’s a little upset.”

“Do you think?” Francine drawled, wondering what had Naomi in such a tizzy. Probably some groupie hitting on one of her mates again. This far in her pregnancy, with her hormones running wild, it didn’t take much for Naomi’s jealous green monster to come out swinging.

Javier, though, shot her theory to hell with his next words. “The hunter who shot Mitchell wasn’t the person who shot Francine.”

Ballistic didn’t even come close to describing Mitchell when he found out who had. Francine quite enjoyed seeing him all riled up. It pleased her inner bitch even more. However, the method of discovery, AKA her trashed apartment, pissed her right off.
Someone’s head is going to roll.

Irritated and longing to go home, the new home he’d discovered in Francine’s arms, made Alejandro impatient. For the last two days, he’d followed the hunter’s sloppy trail. First missing him by minutes at the scuzzy motel he’d checked out of, the location courtesy of a receipt he’d found snagged on a branch in the tree the bastard perched in. The female clerk at least—after a little persuasion, AKA a smile from him—divulged not only the truck’s plate number for his prey but also the make and color of it, which as it turned out, Javier had if  he’d bothered asking before running off . What a surprise, the hunter drove a big ass, red pickup truck.
Stupid redneck.
Most people thought hillbillies and rednecks were an American phenomena. He had news for them, Canada had its fair share of crass, belligerent types who shot anything that moved. But, even he had to admit, their daughters were raunchy in bed.

Stereotypes aside, he jumped on the highway, the clerk having mentioned the man said he was heading home to deal with his daughter. On his bike, it was a simple matter to weave in and out of traffic, slowing down before overpasses to avoid the inevitable radar traps. Late afternoon, he caught up to his prey on the highway. He felt like thanking the bastard for owning such a distinctive red pickup truck with the redneck sticker that read “Keep Honking Asshole, I’m Loading My Gun.” He meant to follow the vehicle until it stopped for either fuel, food, or sleep, but his fucking bike began to wobble, forcing him to pull off and deal with a flat fucking tire. Lucky for him, the tow truck driver knew a place to fix him up and get back on the road, but he lost two precious hours. Even worse, he’d lost the redneck he chased. Thus far, the stupid human traveled in a straight line, keeping his trek to the highway that led back to his home town. Alejandro decided he’d have to trust the idiot would keep on his path, meaning he’d rendezvous with him in the morning on his home turf.