"The shower is in the back." Derrick thought they both could use one but didn't think it was time for a joint shower. Christian just stared at him. "Fine, I'll go first."
Derrick showered quickly and was back out. Christian passed him wordlessly and soon. Derrick heard the shower running and started rummaging for some food. Soon, Derrick heard Christian come out of the bathroom.
Christian stood in the middle of the living area, wet hair, still naked, seemingly unbothered by that fact. Good, it gave Derrick an unobscured view of his gorgeous body. His lines were something a sculptor would dream of studying. Christian's dick was long, with a substantial amount of girth. And right now, it was hard. Again.
"You can feel our connection. You're naked, mate, no hiding your attraction."
"A biological reaction."
Derrick growled. He would not let his mate reduce their relationship to biology. "Sit down," he ordered softly and was pleased to see his mate respond by plopping down on the leather sofa. Derrick went to his knees in front of Christian, sliding between Christian's spread legs. "This mating thing is new for me. But that just means I am learning how to navigate my way through it. I don't claim to be perfect, but I do know that you make me a better person. Today, before you left, that all would have sucked without you there. I was only able to care and mingle because I knew when I looked for you, you'd be there." Derrick shifted forward on his knees. As he spoke, he lifted Christian's left foot off the floor and set it flat on the couch so that Christian's knee bent up. He repeated the same thing with the right foot. "You make me a better person, a whole person. Right now, things are a mess, but I will endeavor to at least make you satisfied." Derrick spread Christian's legs open wider so that his knees almost touched the sofa cushions.
Derrick bent his head down so that he was in line with Christian's puckered hole. He let his tongue explore the area around, making love to his mate's ass with his mouth. Christian was no more than moans and tiny noises of need. He grabbed fistfuls of Derrick's hair, keeping his mouth where it was. He didn't need to. There was no other place Derrick wanted to be.
This is how he wanted to stay forever safe and alone, pleasing his mate. Derrick didn't know how long they'd stay there, how long it would take him to fix things with the pack. With all the unknowns, he knew this for certain, that his mate loved the way Derrick shoved his tongue in his hole, mimicking the motion of his cock. Christian's body had tensed before he came finally, jets of cream spewing from his sweet cock. Afterward, Christian collapsed, exhausted by the events. Derrick held his mate tightly as he fell asleep.
#
Christian lost count of the days in that damn shack. He'd tried to talk to Derrick about getting out, but Christian's body was his biggest traitor. Every time he worked up an argument or defense, Derrick had given him a look, or let his hand linger on his ass and Christian would be naked and moaning in pleasure. If he didn't know better, he'd say that he was being given some sort of drug. Something was happening with his body. That was for sure. He was like an addict and Derrick—more specifically, his cum—was his favorite drug.
That morning he'd woken up with a clearer head than he'd had in a long time. He always felt good, unless it had been too long since he saw Derrick last, but that morning he'd felt…sated.
It was about time for Christian to hear the beep beeps of Derrick inputting the code and strolling through the door. Derrick always brought something new for him to eat or be entertained by. That didn't change the fact that Christian was basically being held there. Not exactly against his will, but definitely, at times, against his liking. That was the most dangerous part of all of this. If Christian really let himself look at the situation, he'd find that he enjoyed Derrick's heavy-handed behavior. Christian never thought he'd like being kept. But really, it wasn't that bad.
When the beep beep of the door sounded, Christian bounded to meet him. Derrick had cleared a trail and drove his truck to and from the shack, often coming home for lunch for a quickie Christian would always refuse for all of one second.
Christian was instantly glad that this time, he'd kept his clothes on, unlike times in the past when he hadn't been able to wait. Mémé walked in first, followed by a sheepish looking Derrick.
"Boy, what the hell you thinking, locking this poor man up in the middle of nowhere?" Mémé said, like they were halfway into a conversation.
"I told you he was fine. See, he's fine. Now let me take you back."
She talked over him, walking over to Christian with slow steps. "All those times I thought your father was the most bullheaded wolf I had ever encountered. Then you go and do something like this. You lucky this is Christian we are talking about, or your ass would be rotting in a well-deserved jail cell. You give me the word, honey," she said to Christian, "and I can still make that happen."
Christian was mostly surprised that Mémé knew his real name. Usually, she'd called him boy, or that guy, or sometimes the Yankee.
"I'm fine," he said and then thought about how dumb that sounded. But today, he finally did feel fine. "Can I get you some sweet tea? I've been perfecting it. Derrick says I almost have it perfect." He poured three glasses and handed one to Derrick and then to Mémé. She took a sip and spat it back into her glass.
"Your mate has been lying to you," she said and then set the glass down.
Christian shot Derrick a look of daggers that he avoided by drinking his entire glass.
Mémé walked by Christian to get into the kitchen—most likely to brew some palatable tea--and froze like a deer caught in headlights. She stepped up uncomfortably close to Christian. She smelled like tobacco and spearmint.
To his horror, she closed her eyes and sniffed. Oh Lord, if Mémé was sniffing at his horniness, he was going to lose everything he had ever eaten ever.
"I'm going to be sick," he said, the wave of nauseousness exploding hard and fast. He barely made it to the toilet before spewing the one sip of sweet tea he'd had along with everything else he'd had for dinner. Derrick was by his side in a flash.
"What is it? What did you eat?"
"Nothing, I just, I don't smell turned on, do I?"
Derrick cocked his head to the side, adorably confused. "No?"
"Get out, son," Mémé said, barging into the bathroom.
The two of them rocked on their feet. Neither knew who she was talking to.
"My grandson, go back to my room and grab my sweater. This one is itchy."
"But it is 80 degrees outside."
"I'm sorry, did I ask you the temperature? Christian? Do you remember me asking my grandson the temperature?"
Christian didn't dare answer. Derrick looked at him, waiting for an expression that told him he was okay, that it was okay for him to leave. Christian nodded. He hardly felt sick anymore.
"It won't take me very long," Derrick murmured. The drive to the mansion and back was pretty short.
Mémé waited until Derrick's car engine rumbled away before turning on him. "How far along?" she asked.
Christian blinked at her. "Is this a crossword clue? It is a little more cryptic than they usually are."
"No, it's not a clue. I'm talking about your pregnancy. How long have you been pregnant? Shifter terms are much shorter, and you need to be seen. This sort of thing, male pregnancy, is unusual but not unheard of. I knew a couple when I was a young girl, two nice young men who had litter after litter of little babes."
Whoa. Someone was hitting the juice a little too hard. And so early in the day. "Mémé, you need to sit down. You're talking crazy."
She sat down but pulled him down, so he sat beside her.
"You tell me, boy, have you been experiencing a time where you felt like you couldn't get enough of my grandson?"
"This is so uncomfortable…."
"Like you'd go through withdrawal without him? And how do you feel now? Do you feel that same need?"
"Well, no…but—"
"But nothing. That was you going through your mating h
eat. God in heaven, him bringing you up here was the best choice he could've made." She stopped and leveled him with a narrow gaze. "Don't you tell him that." She grabbed his hand in both of hers, holding his one hand tightly. "You were in heat and now you ain't because you're with child or children."
Maybe it was the intensity with which she said it, the way she obviously believed every word she was saying. Or perhaps it was because at that moment he felt another rising wave of nauseousness creep up, but he was starting to believe her. How the hell was it possible? Never mind that, what would Derrick think? "How do I tell Derrick?"
"Be careful, boy. When you tell my grandson something like this, he will be himself but tenfold. Ten times as possessive, ten times as protective."
"Mémé, what are you saying? He'll notice, eventually."
The old woman sighed. "You aren't at the mansion, Christian. You don't know how things have changed there. My son and my grandson are barely holding on. Losing Dante, that affected both of them."
Christian looked at his feet.
"I'm not blaming you, but telling him something like this at a time like now, it will be like detonatin' a stress grenade."
He hadn't forgotten about the pack merger, but honestly, in this shack, it had fallen to the back burner. Would Derrick refuse to marry Bridgette once he found out Christian was pregnant? Derrick would be forced to take sides. If he chose Christian, they'd have to leave. Could he do that to Derrick?
Christian knew by the time he heard Derrick's truck that he could never make him choose.
"Remember, boy. No matter what, if you need help…" she looked back and forth from the door Derrick was about to bust through to him. "Just in case you can't make it to the mansion." She thrust something in his hand.
He had enough time to look down at a large wad of bills before shoving them into his pocket as the door opened.
"There, I got you your sweater," Derrick said, triumphantly.
Mémé walked passed him to the car. "Take me back. I'm tired."
Chapter 17
It was getting harder for Christian to hide his tummy. His abs were less washboard and more just, board. He was rounding out, not much, yet, but he didn't walk around with his shirt off anymore.
He busied himself going through the few books that were in the shack. Luckily for him and probably unlucky for the average shifter fisherman who used the shack, they were about shifter history. He'd learned a little more about shifter culture and shifter law. There wasn't much about mates and nothing about men who mated, but Christian thought that might have been because they were in the South. He'd have to read between the lines.
Derrick had left much earlier that morning saying he had meetings back to back with the pack and wouldn't be able to make it even for lunch, so when the door code beeped, he was curious but mostly just expected Mémé to come strolling through.
He never expected Bridgette Babineaux, dressed down in jeans and a yellow polo with a high ponytail that swished as she sashayed inside. He should have smelled her coming, but to be honest, his heightened sense of smell had diminished greatly as the pregnancy went on. "I come in peace," she said, the moment she saw him. Her hands were full, one with a drink carrier that held two to-go cups and the other with a paper bag that had oil stains.
"I spoke with Grandmother Robichaud. She mentioned you might not want coffee."
Christian didn't know who she was talking about at first. "Mémé?" he asked.
Bridgette widened her eyes and then narrowed them again, masking her brief shock. "She hasn't asked that I call her that yet." There was sadness that Christian couldn't ignore in her tone.
"She told you I was up here?" He felt a little betrayed at that idea.
"Not in so many words. Everyone knows you were being kept somewhere. Derrick wasn't disappearing to go cuddle a gator. His uncle clued me in on where you might be. Poor guy, trying anything to get back into the pack's good graces." She sat down, without being asked. When she spoke again, it was with a bitter edge. "He's the only one who even talks to me, though. Everyone else around here treats me like I'm some leper. So I found your exact location the way I find everything out. I snooped." She looked around the shack and clearly decided it wasn't much to see. "I knew you were around somewhere. Every time I see Derrick, he stinks of you. Though, I was right. You are thoroughly locked up."
"Who gave you the code if no one told you I was here?"
She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Uncle Dante told me that most of the security system for the outer regions is set to use one code. I could give it to you, you know." She gave him a mischievous look.
Christian almost wanted to smile back. Bridgette had spirit. That was for sure. She could have made a great friend if she wasn't so set on marrying his mate.
"I brought you a peace offering," she handed him one of the cups. "Hot chocolate and a raspberry and cheese danish. My favorite."
They were one of his favorites as well. He wouldn't judge himself too harshly for caving so quickly into her food bribes. He was pregnant for god sake, and he needed a doughnut.
She watched him and then looked around some more, her eyes falling on the bits of personality Christian had added to the cabin. A throw rug here, a painting there. He'd arranged and rearranged the two rooms, finding rugs or decorations as he went. It was messy at the moment, Christian's and Derrick's clothes were strewn about.
"He's got you set up pretty nicely up here," she mentioned quietly, wistfully.
Christian couldn't help but pick up on her tone. "Bridgette, do you love him?" He didn't need to specify who.
To her credit, she didn't shy from his question. She just took a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly. "I think it was that, at first. Growing up, he was always so tough, so off limits. This dark prince that I was ordered to stay away from. What teenaged girl wouldn't develop a crush on something like that? And then I thought my dreams were coming true when whispers of the engagement began. I thought that, until he looked at me, truly, for the first time. No one had ever looked at me with such loathing. He hardly even knew me! It made me hate him, ya know?" She took a sip out of her cup. Instead of hot chocolate, she had coffee.
"Before I'd even said one word to the guy, I hated him. And it was mutual. That's part of the reason I hated you so thoroughly the first time I met you on that path outside. It hadn't hurt as much to see him treat everyone that way, to dish his royal disdain on every person he met—not just me. But when he looked at you… I mean the way he looked at you. The way he treated just you…." Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "It hurts a girl," she finished softly.
Christian couldn't help his natural inclination. "Bridgette, you are amazing. You'll meet someone who wishes they were good enough. Screw that, you probably meet that guy daily. You're going to meet someone who knows they belong to you when they meet you and that you are theirs."
She shook her head and set down her cup. "Don't be nice to me, Christian. I haven't been nice to you. And I can't see myself being able to change that. This hot chocolate and doughnut, they aren't me being kind, they are bribes. I needed you to at least sit long enough to hear me out.
"My anger and loathing for Derrick Antoine Robichaud the Third aside, my family needs their money. The Babineaux pack is drowning. We're barely keeping our heads afloat. It's gotten so bad that my poor grams can't even afford her fancy medicine that she has to take every day. We need the peace and the prosperity that a marriage union would provide."
"But, what if they agreed to help you? A loan of sorts?"
Bridgette visibly bristled and then worked hard to calm herself. "Charity? Our pack would desert us. We'd have no one left to lead." She stood, brushing the front of her body like she was smoothing out wrinkles. "I'll go. If you could spray something to make it not so obvious I was just here."
She walked to the door and stopped, turning half towards him. "I'm not the bad guy here, Christian. I'm a twenty-two-year-old woman who refuses to break under the pressure of
saving her family. I didn't ask for this to be hefted on my shoulders, but I'd do anything for them. Even if it means pushing around a really nice guy like you." She shut the door behind her.
Christian picked up her cup and his own. He grabbed the drink holder and noticed something written on the bottom of one of the holder circles. A numerical code. He didn't have to check it to know that code opened the door. He committed the code to memory and then threw away the evidence. No sooner had he straightened up, finishing by giving the room a good spritz with a fragrance deodorizer, did Derrick stroll through the door.
He was edgier than normal and walked straight to Christian without a word, pulling him against his body and kissing him deeply.
"What happened?" Christian asked.
"It's the fisheries. Someone is vandalizing them. It wasn't so bad at first, just some broken glass and equipment."
"Oh, god—"
"And, well, our friend Pete happened to be there last time. He said he tried to fight them off but that there were too many of them, young kids he'd said. They beat him up very badly."
"What? Pete? Why?"
Derrick sighed, clearly not wanting to give that last bit of information. "My father is blaming the delays in the pack merger," he said finally. "But I don't think that's it. For one, everyone in the Babineaux pack is accounted for. It's almost like someone wants us to think it is the Babineaux pack."
Christian had only heard some of what he'd said. Guilt settled in on him. Christian was why the pack merger wasn't going as smoothly as everyone wanted. Derrick had an endless supply of suggestions and plans that he constantly brought up to the pack that would replace the engagement. They hadn't found a good substitution, and now people were getting hurt.
It wouldn't stop. As long as Derrick was distracted by him, people would get hurt. That would only get worse once Christian couldn't hide the pregnancy. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped that this time, he would prove strong enough to do it.
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 29
