The Infamous Beast
Page 26
Finnegan, Landon and I all look at each other with a fire in our eyes for only a second before we're pushing back chairs and fighting to get ahead, purposely tripping another person, throwing elbows and pushing a body behind us in order to get to the bedroom first. We somehow all manage to arrive at the doorway to the bedroom, struggling with each other for entry when our sights are turned to Leland.
Leland who's laying on the bed, panting hard for breath with his lips tinged rouge, his cheeks flushed and his dick… erect. It strains against the front of his skinny, dark jeans, making it more difficult to hide from us. But that's not all. His hair is slightly ruffled, his glasses a little skewed and his fists are gripping the duvet like he's holding on for dear life. The only person that could turn Leland to a puddle of goo is standing by the window, acting nonchalant about her actions. But we all know she was the one to rile Leland up. He’s not the kind of person to lie about something.
Seeing her act so indifferent about the situation only makes my fire burn hotter. The window behind her shows that it’s just after midnight, the black skies taking over the landscape making everything devoid of colour. It’s the perfect time of day for my mysterious, guarded mate. It’s also the perfect time of day to go to bed, because after tonight, I’m fucking exhausted.
I move myself out of the cuddle-puddle we’ve created in the doorframe and over to our mate who stiffens at my approach. But step one in my master plan is forgiveness. Holding my hand out, palm up, I look into her eyes when they connect with mine. She looks wary, cautious, but not at all scared. She stands a little taller, with her chin tilted up as though the world could throw the worst at her, and she’d still face it head on.
Narrowing her eyes before she takes my hand, I see hesitation flash over her features before she schools them and accepts her scenario. She’s putting a small fraction of faith in me. Curling my hand around hers, I pull her closer with a half smile and a glint in my eye. “It’s getting a little late… I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”
I hide my amusement when she nods, walking towards her bedroom with a, “so, everyone will be back tomorrow?” Because little does she know, none of us are leaving. With a look thrown at the other guys, reciprocated with a quick nod, I move stealthily and wrap my arms around Remi’s middle, hoisting her up and over my shoulder backwards so that her ass is sitting against my chest. Perfect placement if I wanted to take a chunk out of it, but she’s in the optimal position to kick me right in the balls if she so wanted.
It takes her a second and she probably realises what’s occurring when we retreat backwards from the bedroom everyone is huddled into the direction of the bedroom that’s definitely hers. This one smells like a human and a cat rather than a dragon. I’d expected more flailing, leg kicking and some shouting, but Remi stays silent as I move into her bedroom which is a literal hoard. Tiny glass ornaments cover every available side, and the bedside table has many things overflowing on it. Hair bands, bobby pins, sweet wrappers and one, out of place mobile phone. I doubt she even uses it, considering it’s here amongst the mess.
Deciding that a gentle descent is out of the question, I prepare myself to throw her onto the bed when a sharp, bitter voice stops me.
“If you break one single item in this room, I’ll cut your balls off with a rusty, blunt spoon and then feed them to the fox.”
A million different retorts go through my head, but as my balls are in danger, I keep my mouth firmly shut. Self-preservation is one of the few valuable skills I have. Lowering Remi down onto the bed gently, she sits in the middle with both of her legs underneath her, her thick baggy jumper pooling around her like a security blanket. It’s obvious that I’m trying to put her to bed, but she stares up at me with those eyes that make me want to hug her so hard that she stops breathing.
Uh... Yeah.
“Do you normally sleep in that thing?”
Confused, she picks at the lint on her jumper, shaking her head aimlessly, “No… but I’ll get changed when you guys leave to go back to the Hotel.”
“That’s the thing, Pearl,” I say smugly as I set my knee on the edge of the bed in a bid to get closer to her, “If you haven’t noticed, we’re not leaving. Not now, not ever.” I crawl forward so that I can run my nose along the line of her jaw. Her breath catches and her eyes close at the romantic yet highly erotic gesture. “You’re ours, and in turn, we’re yours. You aren’t gonna get rid of us that easily.”
As she opens her eyes and narrows them, wanting to put up a fight but there's no merit in actually doing it. Instead she crosses her arms and grasps the bottom of the oversized jumper, pulling it over her head in a way that pushes her breasts together, her supple skin on full display due to the barely-there vest top. I should be drawn to the milky skin that’s so pale it practically causes a reflection, but no, I’m drawn to the scars that marr the skin across her chest, some are jagged, some pink and some are faded. She wears her battle scars like expensive jewellery, proud and on show. If this woman could bottle her confidence and sell it, she’d make a fucking fortune.
“Pearl, ey?” Throwing her jumper onto the floor at the end of the bed, we see it for a second before it’s pulled into a weird looking laundry pile, disappearing from our view. “First Jewel, now Pearl. Anyone else giving me an interesting, unoriginal nickname?”
Landon, Leland and Finnegan all filter in slowly through the door and lean on various different pieces of furniture except Leland, who sits just behind Remi in the center of the bed. “N-not yet,” he stutters, “but I’ll think of something.”
Being the only one who actually answers, as Landon just hums a non-committal reply, he gets a gentle caress on his cheek and a swift peck on the lips before Remi yawns in a feline fashion. A little meow-like sound ends the yawn and all of us look like we’re restraining our collective ‘awwwh’. It’s not long before she crawls up to the bed and absent-mindedly begins to undress herself, removing her tight jeans with ease before unhooking her bra and pulling it up through the front of her tank-top. The weirdly erotic action spurs us all into motion, but thankfully none of us are stupid enough to start undressing like over-excited teenagers.
We wait patiently like the good little mates that we are. When Remi is firmly tucked under the duvet with her hair splayed across the pillows of the queen sized bed, we wait for her command to come to bed. It’s a minute or so after she finally settles. Her sleepy voice barely a mumbled whisper, “if you’re getting in then hurry up. And turn those fucking lights off, you’re running up the damn bill.”
The light shuts off abruptly and I take off my socks using the heel of my foot before slowly pulling up the edge of the cover and slipping into bed behind her. Suit trousers aren't comfortable to sleep in, they're only slightly better than jeans but it's the only way to keep some distance between our bodies. Shimmying closer, I press my chest to her back and the action makes her sigh contentedly and when the other guys move in around her she makes herself comfortable, tangling her limbs between theirs, a hand caught in someone's hair and another wrapped around a shoulder of someone just out of reach.
The slow, steady breaths don't take long before they're synchronised with each other, their bodies having been lulled into the realm of unconsciousness, but here I am, still awake and still… thinking. Looking.
It's the first time in a long time that I'm sleeping in bed with a woman, but it's the first time ever that I'm sleeping with my mate. I couldn't give two fucks that she's weird, a little crazy and downright sarcastic. None of that phases me. Why would I want someone who's meek, mild and compliant? I wouldn't, because I enjoy the challenge and I enjoy being challenged. But as my mate lays here, I curl one of my arms around her waist, pulling my body flush with hers.
It was a subtle scent, but now our mating bonds have been ignited, her scent is beginning to show ever-so-slightly. It's different. Where I smell like the sea and smoke, and Landon smells like burning firewood and ashes, Remi smells crisp, and sharp. It's like the scent is too
strong even in its muted phase and it burns my nose. Without her fabricated scent, the smell would be a little more potent, but for some reason her strawberry and vanilla smell accompanies it perfectly. Bitter, sweet, I can’t wait to run my tongue along her flesh to know exactly what she tastes like.
But as I lay here, thinking about the pale white skin pressed up against me, I also think about how I’m going to attempt to right all the wrongs I did. First, the creepy stalking. Then being a stuck up twat in her shop and finally questioning her in the Hotel room probably wasn’t my brightest moment. But how do I atone for my monumental fuck ups? Do I buy the girl a book, no… she already has a bookstore. Do I get her an ornament? Well… the whole house is covered in those. I’ll have to really put my head down to figure out what the hell I can do to make it up to her. I could start with breakfast tomorrow, that would be the best beginning to my plan to win her over, mind, body and soul. With the thoughts of how to make an effort firmly sealed in motion, I close my eyes and let myself succumb to the black, inky void that takes over me and drags me into into its merciless depths.
•°•
Just as I quickly drifted off to sleep, I woke up abruptly to the sun beginning to peek through the clouds outside. A sight that I unwillingly experience, considering the fucking curtains are open. Who sleeps with the fucking curtains open? Dickheads. It’s a blessing in disguise that none of them slept behind me last night, because it allows me to slip out of bed easily, moving a pillow behind Remi’s back to give her the feeling that I’m still there. All of them are cuddled together in some weird puppy pile and the sight pulls on my stubborn heartstrings. The comfort of knowing we all found the person who could right all our inner wrongs soothes the stain on my soul and leaves me feeling weightless, even if it's only for a moment.
I don’t want to leave the comfort of her, but phase one in the win-her-over master plan is breakfast, and I make a mean fried egg. Moving slowly across the hard wooden floor, I notice the little fox in his clothes-den looking out at me and questioning if I’m truly a friend or a foe. I can’t answer him so I leave the door ajar instead, knowing that food would probably win him over too. Easing myself out of the room, I quickly head to Remi’s bathroom which is small with sea-scape ornaments everywhere. I notice the cabinet under the sink, and if my suspicions are correct, there should be extra toothbrushes in there. The woman hoards everything like she’s preparing for World War Three or some random plague to wipe out the country. But alas, I am correct. Picking out the green coloured one so Remi doesn’t confuse it with her white and black one, I quickly brush my teeth before heading into her cozy kitchen to start working on the mammoth breakfast of the century.
Rummaging through the few cupboards, I find enough frying pans and saucepans to cook enough to feed five dragons and a fox. The amount of food will be enormous in itself, so I put the oven on a low temperature to keep the food warm once I’ve cooked it. I start ransacking the fridge and the cupboards where she keeps her food and soon enough, I have enough to make the full breakfast of a lifetime. I put the meats on first, bacon and sausages galore before I start chopping up various fruits for the sweeter breakfast option. Apples, pears and orange slices consume the white plate and I place it in the middle of her table, moving the meats into the oven a few minutes later so I can start on the eggs.
Just as I crack the first two on the side of the frying pan, I hear a few muffled voices and a thump like someone fell out of the bed. I smile to myself when I hear a feminine roar of laughter, so I can only assume that someone did. I crack the other eggs quickly into the pan and cover it with a lid before clicking the kettle on ready for tea and coffee, when Finnegan stumbles from the bedroom to the bathroom with Landon following close behind. Before he manages to step inside, the door is slammed closed with enough force that the door frame shudders in protest. Dejected, Landon resorts to banging on the door loudly and relentlessly. Finnegan doesn’t open it, instead he shouts back.
“Fuck off ya little shite, I’m having a piss!”
The accent doesn’t get lost on any of us and soon all of us are laughing, in snorts or fits of giggles, but either way we’re laughing nonetheless. I can hear Remi’s laughter through the walls and it spurs me on to finish the breakfast. Pulling out the bacon and sausages, I place them on the table and the smell attracts the rest of the starved cavalry. Landon’s the first as he’s the closest and Remi scrambles from the bedroom like a Gremlin on the hunt. It’s Leland who potters behind slowly with a smile on his face and a pep in his step.
They all take a seat at the table as I pull the orange juice from the fridge and place it in the middle of the table. Leland notices it and looks at me with a smile, but Remi looks at the kettle pointedly, only asking a one worded question, “tea?”
Not one to deny her, I click on the kettle whilst we wait for Finnegan who's still using the bathroom. It's only when the kettle finishes boiling and I begin making her tea that he emerges. Looking a little bit more alive than he usually does in the morning, he sits down in one of the unclaimed chairs and starts to fill his plate with an assortment of foods from the table. Not being the one to poke the bear, I start making him and I a coffee so that we're not massive assholes this morning.
Once the hot beverages are done, I place them down in front of the right people and then take a seat on the last chair, placing a few perfectly done sausages on my plate and a heap of freshly cut fruit. Just as I spear one onto the end of my fork, the entire table goes silent and I look up from the juicy piece of apple to Remi, who's staring right back at me.
It's slightly awkward, but instead of nagging or reaming me out like I'd expect her too, she gives me a muted smile. "Thank you for breakfast Remington. You shouldn't have." It's a compliment if any and my dragon ruffles his wings inside me, puffing his chest and preening at the comment. Step one on making everything right is complete, but now I just have to figure out the rest of the plan.
“It wasn’t any trouble, I just wanted to start on the right foot rather than the left one.” She smiles at that joke and then begins piling up her plate like it’s her last meal on earth. As we’re all sitting here, silently nibbling or scoffing down food like our lives depend on it, I hear a small series of clicks come from the bedroom and it’s in that moment that I forgot to make Lucius any breakfast. I look pointedly towards the bedroom, waiting for the creature to arrive and noticing me stare, Remi does the same before looking back at me. As though she can see my internal dilemma, she looks at the sausages before looking back at me. Considering there’s only a few left, I take the plate and cut them up into fox-sized chunks and put the plate on the floor down by my feet. The chink that the plate makes when it touches the floor sends the little red fox into overdrive, the animal drifts around the table like a getaway car on the run. The critter is soon at my feet scoffing the sausages down like he hasn’t been fed in months, “Looks like the little guy likes sausages.”
“Takes after his mumma,” Remi replies absent-mindedly. A few forks drop onto plates and I’m sure that everyone’s jaw hits the table, including mine. It’s only after the chorus of noises that Remi realises what she said, but she doesn’t have time to rectify it because Landon manages to sneak in a mild-burn, “D’you like a lot of meats, Remi?” It causes all of the males around the table to laugh under their breaths, the sniggers hidden behind hands or muffled by shoulders.
Remi, our strong, stubborn mate doesn’t rise to the occasion though. She fires back with one of her own, “I like my men how I like my sausages.”
“Oh yeah, how's that? Seared on all sides and popped in the oven for ten minutes?”
Landon doesn’t know when he should shut up. From that mysterious glint in Remi’s eyes, I’d imagine she’s going to humiliate and turn him on in the same sentence. Takes some skill to do that.
“No… I like them chained together and four at a time.”
The choked noise comes a second after she dealt her deadly blow and that's when we realis
e that Landon is now choking on the sausage that he was just eating. Finnegan gets up to help the poor bastard from choking on meat, whereas Leland and I are sitting red faced and full of uncontrolled laughter because that was a moment you had to experience. Landon choking on a sausage himself was the icing on the tip of the proverbial cake.
“So, Remi,” I try to ask around my fits of laughter as I watch Finnegan perform the heimlich maneuver, “Since we’re all mates now, would you tell us a bit about you? And then we’ll tell you about us?”
Using her sharp knife to cut into her food still, she stabs a piece of bacon and lifts it to her lips before eating it, slowly. As I sit here with bated breath, I wait eagerly for her reply. It was a weird question, but she’s never really said anything about herself, except when she spilled her secrets back at the hotel. But I was kinda tied up and a little preoccupied with the notion that I was going to be eaten alive at the end of it to ask any other questions.
“What do you wanna know?”
I open my mouth to speak, but Leland beats me to the punch. “Regular stuff, I guess. When’s your birthday, what’s your favourite colour, favourite food, how did you get Lucius etc…” He looks at her adoringly, like she’s the knight in shining armour and he’s the damsel in distress, “Anything you want to tell us, really. But it doesn’t have to be everything right now, we have eternity.”
Her smile is full of love. It’s the first time I’ve seen her so openly adoring but it seems that only Leland holds a special spot in her heart. Finnegan is the person she’d bond with over books, Landon over drinks and drinking competitions and me? Well, I’m not sure yet.
“Well, okay. So I don’t remember when my birthday is-”
“Wait,” Landon coughs out, choking on a partially eaten sausage for a moment, “You don’t remember when your birthday is?” His eyes widen a fraction before he adds in shock, “how old are you?”
Remi sets her fork down slowly and Leland mutters, “dude that’s so rude,” before she sets her elbows on the table, folds her hands together and rests her chin on them. She doesn’t seem angry, just… surprised that someone would actually ask that question. At least Leland had a miniscule amount of tact to word it differently.