by Gynger Fyer
“Mmmm. Take this off, I want to see you,” she said in a husky voice. Jacques immediately complied, baring his tanned skin to her before coming back to her and doing the same with the shirt she was wearing. He pulled her bra over her head, causing her to giggle.
“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”
“Hey, the results are the same, that’s all that matters. You have the best breasts I’ve ever seen. They were just made for sucking. One day, my hatchlings will feed from them.”
Jacques lowered his head to suck, but Angel put her hands on his chest to stop him.
“Jacques, don’t say stuff like that. It’s confusing and it makes me feel uncomfortable. This is nice, but I can’t promise you I’ll stay.”
She opted to look at his chin rather than his eyes. She pressed his chest again, looking into eyes so intense they appeared to see into her soul.
“Let me up, Jacques.”
He lay on top of her for a moment longer, nostrils flared, jaw tight. He was pissed. Well, so was she. He’d just ruined what could have been a rather nice make-out session. She needed to get away, her gator wanted to be free, she wanted to be free. Free of all the pressure to mate and pick up her life just because of the circumstances of her birth. It was becoming overwhelming. Her parents were pressuring her to meet and mingle with their pod. Jacques’s mom wanted to teach her all about how to be a sovereign cow, even though she kept telling her she wasn’t sure she would stay. Her words went in one ear and out the other without even being considered. And to top it all off, she still had a casino to build by Mardi Gras. It was all too much.
“I said let me up!”
Angel gritted her teeth and shoved at his chest. He fell to the side, but she knew it wasn’t due to her strength but because he’d relented.
Toeing off her shoes, Angel dispensed with the rest of her clothes in haste. She didn’t look back as she dove into the still waters of the bayou, shifting as she did so. She briefly heard Jacques call her name, but she didn’t stop, she kept swimming. She had no idea where she was headed, but she knew she had to be free, if only for a little while.
Chapter Thirteen
Jacques swam several yards behind Angel, trying to give her space. Judging by the waves of emotions she was giving off, her loud splashing and muttered curses as she charged through the water, she was frustrated and upset. He didn’t want her swimming off and getting lost or hurt, but he also knew she needed some space. Instead of rushing up to her and forcing her to talk things out, he opted to let her blow off some steam. Gators were only capable of short bursts of energy, so he knew she’d simmer down if he waited a little while.
He cursed himself for not being more patient. She’d been in Louisiana for less than a month, and from her point of view, everyone wanted something from her. If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t been the most sympathetic with her feelings. But to him, it was cut and dry. She was his mate. They would always have a natural attraction to each other; their bond was designed by nature. In the end, he knew she would mate with him. That’s just the way gators were. Barring death, they mated and stayed with their mate. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that she was still alive and out there. Sure the pod priestess couldn’t tell him her exact location, but she was able to let them know she was alive. As long as Angel was alive, he was barred from mating with another cow unless he wanted to curse himself. He’d slept with his share of them. He’d even been with regular women, but that was just about pleasure; he had a mate, and once they consummated their vows, she would be with him for life. They could start a family and get on with the business of living. That’s all he wanted, to get on with their lives. Why couldn’t she see that? Were things so great for her in Vegas that she couldn’t bear to move? Did she have someone in Vegas? The idea had him briefly seeing red. No, she would have said something…wouldn’t she?
Angel slowed down near an embankment and hovered near the surface of the water. It was getting late, already the sun was setting. They needed to start heading back.
“Are you ready to talk about this now?” he asked, approaching her slowly.
“Do I have a choice?” she grumbled back.
“You always have a choice, Angel.”
“Yes, very limited choices,” she huffed.
Jacques moved to swim in front of her.
“Would mating with me be so bad?”
“It’s not that!”
“Then please, tell me what it is, because right now, I’m out of ideas.”
“I had a life before this. I have a life.”
“What? You mean running a casino and bailing your brother out of scrapes so he doesn’t get his head blown off by loan sharks?”
She looked surprised.
“Yes, I know about the people your brother owed money to. I bought his debts, and the people he was dealing with were the lowest of the low. He didn’t bat an eye when I offered to buy him out. “
“Michael has a problem and I promised to watch out for him.”
“He’s a grown man…”
“Look, you wouldn’t abandon your brother, so don’t ask me to abandon mine.”
Jacques took a deep breath. He understood family loyalty, but Michael wasn’t her only family.
“What about your parents?”
Angel was so quiet he didn’t know if she’d respond.
“I can visit them and they can visit me.”
“And how long will that go on? You father has a pod to run. You were his only child, he doesn’t have a successor, even now he’s seeking someone to take over, that’s a lot of work, and he’s not a young bull anymore.”
“Stop it! Stop making it sound like I’m being selfish.”
“Well, aren’t you? You have a brother who doesn’t care if you’re in his life or not, and a casino that’s been running fine without you.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I’m part owner of the Tiki. I know everything that happens there, and I don’t have to be in Vegas to get the information. Neither do you, for that matter.”
“Vegas is the only home I’ve ever had, Jacques. It’s what I know, so excuse the hell out of me if I don’t want to drop everything and come live the life of a gator queen.”
Angel made to charge off, but this time he swam in her way and stopped her from leaving. He could feel her anger and hurt. This was not how he wanted things to go.
Several trucks and cars pulling up on the bank stopped him from saying more. Eight to ten gator teens started getting out of the vehicles, blaring loud music.
“What’s going on?” Angel whispered.
“You don’t have to whisper, cher, they can’t hear us telepathically. Unless you want them to.”
He chuckled.
“Oh, I forgot.”
“Looks like a typical gator keg party. From the looks of things, they’ll probably get a bit rowdy tonight.”
Two girls dressed in short skirts and cowgirl boots started taking their clothes off. A guy kissed each of the girls before starting to remove his clothes too.
“Rowdy is right. I thought you guys only had sex with your mates.”
“Oh, no, cher, we bond with our mate, but we can have sex with anyone we want to. It’s just that the connection is not there.”
“So you can have sex with other women?”
“Angel, once I mate, I’ll be completely faithful, but yes, I’ve slept with other women.”
Angel was quiet. The teens were beginning to shift one by one. It was time for them to go.
“Come on, let’s get out of here and let them have their fun. What the fuck?”
Jacques watched as a rope was tossed over a tree branch with a hook on the end. Once it was secure, a dead chicken, feathers and all, was placed on the end of the hook, which was suspended over the water. The little bebettes had created a trap, and not just any trap, but the kind that killed Steven Boucher.
Jacques watched as one of the females lunged f
rom the water and snapped at the chicken. Not really pulling but giving it a tug, the chicken thankfully remained intact. If she’d swallowed the chicken, the hook could have gotten stuck in her intestines and killed her. It all made sense.
“What on earth! Are they…is that…”
“Yes, that, cher, is the same trap that killed Steven Boucher, and from the looks of things, this is some type of sport to these little bebettes.”
“Bebettes?”
“Critters, monsters.”
The gators who hadn’t shifted were now drinking beer and cheering the gators in the water on. It was the stupidest thing he’d ever seen in his nearly thirty years on Earth. Even in his youth, they hadn’t been so reckless.
“What are going to do?”
“I’m going to rain down fah-yuh.”
And that’s exactly what he proceeded to do as he charged into the group of unsuspecting teens.
•●•
Angel was getting a crash course on the Cajun language as Jacques paced the bedroom. His mother and brother had gone to their respective homes over an hour ago, and her parents, who’d arrived shortly after they’d returned that night, were now cozy in one of the guest rooms on the other side of the house. She’d been a little nervous about sharing a room with Jacques, knowing her parents were under the same roof. She’d planned to sleep in one of the guest rooms. However, when her parents sniffed the air and openly congratulated her and Jacques on starting the mating process, she knew there was no need. His scent was all over her and vice versa. She’d been embarrassed as hell, while Jacques heartily accepted the well wishes.
“Couyon, bebette! I should’ve strung them all up by their tails.”
Jacques had been pacing and rambling in Cajun since they’d entered the spacious room. He’d taken his shower and wore only a towel, looking too sexy for words. She went into the bathroom and started the shower. Even above the sound of the shower spray, she could hear him grumble.
She supposed it was better than what those poor kids had gotten. She’d never seen anything like it as she got into the shower and recalled the events of the evening.
Jacques charged at the teens who were in the water. They’d clearly been scared shitless. All of them scrambled onto land and shifted, moving back toward the trucks. Jacques shifted too, just as naked as the day he was born. She could’ve heard a pin drop in the bayou that night. The only sound she could hear was his growl before lining them up and interrogating them like a drill sergeant. She felt sorry for them. They couldn’t even look at Jacques as they’d explained the game they’d come up with called “chicken.” The object of the game was to get the chicken loose without swallowing the hook. Yes, it was dangerous, but apparently the game was popular among the gator teens in all of the pods. They’d said everyone was doing it. Typically someone would videotape it with their cell phone and upload it to YouTube for bragging rights and to challenge teens in other pods.
After nearly an hour of Jacques’s verbal assault, Angel shifted. The kids were already scared because they’d been caught, but Jacques had threatened to turn them over to Boucher. They’d been trembling, and most were on the verge of tears. She couldn’t take any more of it. They’d learned their lesson. She’d never walked around naked before, but it was obvious nudity wasn’t a big deal for them. Still, she tried to stay behind Jacques as much as she could. She’d cleared her throat and put her hand on his back before strongly suggesting he send them home and have them send him the link to the video, in particular the ones of Steven Boucher.
They’d been relieved to be let go, but Jacques made sure they knew their parents would be notified. They might not have been responsible for the death of Steven Boucher, but they’d been engaging in risky behavior and knew how Steven had died, yet no one said anything. That was a serious offense and needed to be addressed.
When they’d gotten home, her parents and his family had been waiting for them with a Christmas tree and a car full of presents. It was supposed to be a festive time, her first Christmas in the bayou with her parents and with Jacques. Instead, it’d turned into a sovereign summit as they all strategized about what to do with the silly teens. There were at least ten videos on YouTube of hatchlings playing “chicken.” Steven Boucher was in a few of them. In all of the videos, the kids were drinking, and on one video you could even see the camera pan past one teen in the last stages of a shift. The casual observer would have missed it, but a shifter knew exactly what was happening. Jacques notified the other pod sovereigns that there would be an emergency video conference call the next morning.
Angel exited the shower, dried off, and applied oil to her skin. She entered the room wrapped in a thick towel, her curly hair in a ponytail at her neck.
Jacques was reclining on the bed with his laptop, typing furiously.
“So, have you calmed down and started speaking English again?”
Jacques huffed and ran his fingers through his hair before letting out a chuckle and closing his laptop.
“I suppose I should have remembered you don’t speak Cajun or French.”
Jacques got up and placed the computer on the table in the sitting room. He was completely naked, making her lick her lips with anticipation. Lord have mercy.
“Nope, just English. But maybe one day I’ll learn.”
Angel took out a simple black nightgown that skimmed her body and came to mid-thigh. She dropped the towel and pulled the gown over her head before folding the towel and tossing it on the counter in the bathroom. When she came back into the room, Jacques was in the middle of the bed looking at her while propped up on pillows.
“Can I get under the covers?”
She tugged but Jacques didn’t budge from his spot.
“You know, I think tonight would be a good night to start your Cajun lessons.”
Angel eyed the clock; it was nearly midnight.
“I don’t know, it’s late.”
She placed her fists on her hips. Jacques held out his hand and Angel climbed on the bed. At his insistence, she straddled his hips. He was already semi-hard. He pulled her down toward him and kissed her mouth slowly and sensually.
“I think you’ll like the way I teach.”
Angel couldn’t say too much. His warm tongue and teeth were on the tender flesh of her neck.
“Ahhhh, Jacques.” She closed her eyes and sighed his name, melting into him.
One moment she was on top, the next she was on her back lifting her hips towards Jacques, wanting him inside of her.
When he didn’t immediately enter her, she slightly opened heavy lids.
“Repeat after me, cher. Bec. Kiss.”
He kissed her languidly as if he had all night. It was the kind of kiss that engaged lips, tongue, and teeth. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and released it before doing it again and again. When he was done exploring her mouth, he murmured the word again.
“Bec,” she repeated breathlessly.
Jacques kissed down her neck. One hand covered her breast as he nibbled on her shoulder.
“E’paule. Shoulder.”
He kissed her collarbone and ran his teeth along her shoulder. The sensation gave her chills and she shivered beneath him, pressing her breast farther into his warm palm.
“E’paule.”
He leaned up and ran his finger around one breast in lazy circles; each rotation brought his fingertip closer to her dusky areola and nipple. Angel squirmed next to him, moaning as she trembled.
“Fressons. Goosebumps.”
Jacques kissed all around her breast but never connected with the spot that begged for the most attention.
“Please, Jacques.”
“Fressons,” he repeated.
“Fressons,” she gasped.
“C’estbon. Means it’s good. If you like what I do, cher, say c’estbon.”
Angel nodded jerkily as his finger again rotated around her breast.
“C’estbon,” she replied as the air rushed from her lungs.<
br />
Her nipples were hard as rocks. This time he circled her areola and plucked her nipple before applying firm pressure. Angel’s nipples had never felt so deliciously sensitive. She ground her pelvis against him, feeling the warmth of her arousal seep from her folds. She was going to come just from the wicked way he was playing with her breast.
“C’estbon!” Angel moaned loudly.
Her hands went to his head, and she started pulling his mouth down toward her breast. She needed his mouth on her, but Jacques would not be rushed.
“Bouche. Mouth.”
His finger came up and outlined her lips. She quickly sucked the digit into her mouth and took pleasure when he closed his eyes and hissed. He looked at her as if he wanted to consume her soul. He pulled his finger from her mouth and she released him.
“Bouche,” she repeated seductively.
Two could play this game.
“If you want my mouth somewhere, touch the spot and say bouche.”
Her clit throbbed at his instruction. Angel ran a casino, but even she hadn’t been ready for him to up the ante like that. Jacques Bertrand was going to be the death of her.
He lay half covering her with his warm, chiseled body, looking like he wanted to devour her in his own sweet time, and he wanted to know where she wanted his mouth. Her beast rolled over spread-eagle in invitation, but she wanted to savor the moment. She touched her lips first.
“Bouche.”
Jacques’s mouth covered hers in an erotic, toe-curling kiss. After nibbling and sucking her lips, he kissed her softly once more. She exhaled through slightly puckered lips and ran her tongue along her top lip. It felt swollen and pouty, just like the lips of her sex.
Patience, she warned herself before moving her hand to the next spot she wanted to feel his mouth. Angel moved her hand from his shoulder and tapped her nipple, which was still hard enough to cut glass.
