He nodded.
“There aren’t any whales?”
“Only orcas. But nothing larger. There used to be, apparently, but shifting isn’t magic. It’s a restructuring of the body. The size of a whale, you wouldn’t shift often if you could help it.”
She wondered if it hurt, and if pain was a reason that some shifters chose one form and stayed there. After a moment’s reflection, she decided to add the hypothesis to her growing list of questions rather than keep interrupting Koenraad.
“When I’m in shark form, I have the cognitive abilities of a human as well as the physical abilities of a shark. When I’m in human form, I’m… let’s say sturdier and more perceptive than a true human.”
“True human?”
“I’m a shifter. You’re a true human.”
She pondered that. “Neither a shark nor a human.”
“Exactly. You with me?”
“I guess. It’s getting freaky.”
“Getting freaky. Good segue,” he said lightly. But when he pulled her closer, she noticed he was tense. He was worried about whatever he was about to say. “Do you know anything about shark mating habits?”
She shook her head. “Can we stop there just for a moment? I need to…” She needed to process this, to brace and prepare herself. What form shifters preferred and their finances didn’t have anything to do with her, but she was sleeping with this man. With this shifter. Sex stuff? Everything to do with her. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Follow the hallway to the end.” Koenraad smiled. “Take as much time as you need.”
“I’m not hiding from you. I had a lot of coffee this morning.”
“Of course,” he said formally, but she could tell he was teasing her.
“I’m serious!”
“I’m agreeing with everything you say, Monroe.”
“That’s hot, you know.” They grinned at each other.
She made her way below deck. The cushions and lamps she’d been able to see when she first boarded only scratched the surface of the boat’s tackiness. Everything was boobs or vaginas or penises. Several small multicolor disco balls hung overhead, light glinting manically off them.
Looking down introduced her to purple shag carpet. And now she noticed a slightly musty odor. The parts of the floor that weren’t purple had tasteless decals in the form of nude female silhouettes, their jaunty breasts so large that Monroe felt a bit offended.
Everywhere she looked was a fresh assault on her eyes.
What she couldn’t understand was why someone would spend so much money on… this. It looked like someone had given a frat house a credit card with no limit and told them not to purchase anything that a respectable person would own.
At the end of the hallway was a closed wooden door. The handle was—oh, god, it was a long, flaccid cock. In case she hadn’t recognized the shape, two wrinkly balls were painted just below the handle.
“Gross,” she muttered, and tried to twist the cool metal.
It didn’t turn in her hand. To open the door, she had to pull up, effectively giving the door a hand job.
She wiped and then settled her weight on the clear seat (which was covered in bright red lipstick marks) and closed her eyes to block out the anatomically correct figures embroidered on the black hand towels. A spicy waft of overbearing cologne came out of nowhere, and she wrinkled her nose.
She wondered what Koenraad was going to tell her next.
The brief article she’d read in the tourist guide in her hotel room popped into her head… Shark Warriors of Tureygua. She scrunched her brow, trying to remember the details. Unfortunately, all she could dredge up was the bit about “two male members.” It was so absurd that it had made an impression.
Sharks didn’t have two penises. Did they?
It seemed unlikely. What advantage could come from something like that?
But… even if sharks didn’t have two, shark shifters might.
She finished in the bathroom and, taking care to touch the bare minimum possible, she rejoined Koenraad.
“How’d you like the bathroom?” he asked.
“It matches the theme,” she said diplomatically. The remark earned her one of Koenraad’s gorgeous smiles. That gave her the confidence to ask, “Do shark shifters have two dicks?”
Koenraad choked, and Monroe took his response to mean she was way off base.
“Never mind.” Itching spots burned her cheeks; either she was blushing furiously or she’d just broken out into embarrassment-induced hives.
“Yes,” Koenraad said.
“Y-yes?”
He nodded, and her gaze swept down, involuntarily. She’d seen him naked. “How? Where are they?”
His response was silence. He wasn’t shutting her out, she didn’t think, just taking a moment to collect himself, to phrase his response in the most neutral terms possible.
He was wasting his time because there wasn’t a way to gloss over having two dicks. By definition, it was outrageous.
“An anatomical difference,” he said clinically. “There are aspects of my human form that I can modify to better fit in.”
Monroe raked her eyes slowly over his perfect face. “Like what?”
“This… isn’t my natural form,” he said.
A thick lump formed in Monroe’s throat, and she had to swallow hard to get it to go down.
And then she remembered something else she’d seen in that guide book. That the shark warriors had shark heads on human bodies.
She began to tremble.
“Monroe?” Koenraad turned to face her, and while he moved as if he wanted to reach out, to touch her, he didn’t. “What’s wrong?”
“I… read about you in a book,” she said.
“A book?”
“In my hotel room.”
A dark look crossed Koenraad’s face. “Oh, that,” he said. “I’m not going to downplay how… unusual a shifter must seem to a human, but I’m talking about subtle adjustments. I have gills even in human form, but you can’t see them unless I want you to.”
She stared at his neck; she couldn’t help it.
“You can’t see them.”
“Show me.”
He shook his head.
“Show me the…” Her eyes darted down.
He took her hands. “When I’m human, I’m only aware of one unless I make a decision to involve the second one. That’s the easy part. Shark reproduction is brutal. Violent. Like shark lives, to be honest. And everything else. Biting plays an important role.”
“Is that why you ruined the wooden shelf yesterday?”
He flinched. “I wasn’t trying to ruin it. When a male takes a female—and it’s taking, no romance involved—several things happen. He bites her to anchor himself to her. When he penetrates her…” He dragged a slow hand through his light blond hair. “When a shark engages in coitus, there are spines involved. Barbs.”
“Barbs? Where?”
Koenraad didn’t answer, and Monroe’s mind filled in the blank. “That’s… barbaric!” The joke was unintentional, and so was her short, slightly hysterical laugh.
“It’s actually very common in the animal kingdom. Felines have them, some apes have them, and most sharks do, too. Which means I have them. When I’m very excited, I need to concentrate to control mine,” he said, “but I manage.”
Oh, she knew about his self-control. She’d felt it more than once, and she was happy to know she hadn’t imagined that he was holding back… though the explanation was making her feel dizzy.
“After an intense orgasm, I’m hyper-sensitive. It lessens my control. That’s why I sometimes need to take a few minutes after.”
“What would happen if you lost control? I guess it would tear up your partner.” She was starting to feel bad for him. What a curse.
“First, I never lose control. But to answer your question, it depends who she is. Another shifter would find it enjoyable. Like I told you, everything about a shark’s life
is violent.”
The lump in Monroe’s throat had started growing again. “So it’s only when you’re with a human that you have to hold back.” Her eyes bored into his, and she prayed he would shake his head or tell her she was wrong.
But he didn’t. What she saw was compassion and regret, and it knifed through her.
She turned to sit straight on the seat and stared out at the ocean. Koenraad had been right; there wasn’t much to look at… no distractions from the bomb he’d just dropped on her. Bombs, plural. Because between two penises and barbs and the fact that he had to stay in control during sex, she was feeling pretty overwhelmed. And inadequate.
“Why would you ever have sex with a human? Sounds to me like it’s unnatural.” There was a bitter edge to her voice, but under the circumstances, she didn’t think she was being overly defensive.
“It’s not unnatural. If it were, humans and shifters wouldn’t be able to procreate. And to answer your question, I do it because it’s enjoyable,” he said. “Especially with a woman like you. Two nights ago, I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think about anything except the way you’d felt in my arms, in my bed, underneath me.” His voice was a low rumble, and despite all the things going through her mind, she couldn’t ignore the tightening low in her stomach and the way her heart sped up.
She wondered if he was trying to distract her. But she wasn’t ready for this conversation to be over yet.
“Do barbs come out of them both? Can you use them at the same time?”
An amused smile twisted his mouth, and her cheeks turned blistering hot. “I wasn’t thinking what you’re imagining,” she said, remembering how he’d pressed his thumb into her rear the day before.
Koenraad’s hand landed on her knee, and she jumped, startled. He feathered his fingers up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “What do you think I was imagining?”
She wasn’t going to answer that. “I think you should show me.”
“Show you what?” His fingers danced higher, distracting her. She wanted to slide her hips down the seat, to hurry his touch to her quivering core. He repeated his question.
“Um…” On second thought, no way was she going to ask him to pull down his pants. He might interpret it as her being interested in wanting to enjoy both his cocks at once. Oh, god, there was something she’d never thought she’d have to worry about.
Koenraad’s finger brushed over the bikini-covered mound of her sex, and she gasped.
“I have ways of making you talk,” he rumbled.
“I want to see you turn into a shark.”
Koenraad sighed and removed his hand from between her legs. “While I understand why you’re curious, I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re upset.”
“I’m not,” she said, puzzled.
That made him smile. “Not the ‘angry’ definition of upset. Unsettled is perhaps the better word.”
If she had been, it was because of what he’d been doing with his hand. But now that he wasn’t distracting her, yeah, there was a twist of unease deep in her gut. Fuck. He noticed everything. And that was definitely unsettling.
Monroe stood. “Think I’ll get some sun.”
“There should be clean towels in the white cabinet under the rhino horn. And before you ask, the rhino died of natural causes, and it wasn’t anyone we knew.”
Her eyes went wide in shock. That hadn’t even occurred to her.
Koenraad caught her hand and squeezed it, and when he looked up at her, the sheer beauty of him, that symmetrical, chiseled face and the blond hair that grazed his cheekbones, made her want to straddle him. Completely inappropriate. She needed to get a grip.
“Take your time,” he said.
She went to the rear of the yacht. The white, built-in lounge chairs looked clean enough, and the sun had probably disinfected any microscopic nastiness, so she didn’t bother risking the hideousness of the cabin for towels. She didn’t plan to take off her clothes anyway. She hadn’t come out here to get a tan. Koenraad had been right; she needed some time to process what he’d told her.
She lowered herself onto a chair and folded her arms over her stomach.
Her lover was a shifter. He wasn’t human. That she could live with.
But two dicks? She couldn’t even imagine…
It bothered her, probably more than it should have. In the grand scheme of things, turning into an apex predator was a lot more disturbing than having an extra six inches of flesh. Though if the second was the same as the first, it was much more than six inches. And the barbs. She couldn’t wait to get back to a working web browser and look that up.
To think that she was the regional manager of a pet supply company and this was the first she was hearing about these things. But she spent more time investigating types of hamster exercise wheels than animal anatomy.
She kind of wished he’d never told her. But then, that wouldn’t have been fair to him.
And neither was leaving him alone while she sorted through this. But he’d been the one to suggest she take a break. Maybe he needed one, too. She decided to give herself an hour in the sun. Her life had been so simple even three days earlier, and now there was no going back, even if she left Tureygua tomorrow.
Her eyelids fluttered shut under the sun’s warm caress, and she drifted off. Some time later, she woke. She had no idea what time it was or how long she’d been asleep. She pushed herself to standing and stretched. Koenraad was where she’d left him, his outline visible through the glass. He was seated, bent over and looking down.
The water was choppy, and she carefully made her way to the front of the boat. Koenraad was engrossed in what looked like a textbook.
He closed the book, and she caught a glimpse of the title. Selachimorpha Genetics. Whatever that meant. Unusual choice of reading material, but he did have that academic background in his family.
“Why do sharks have two penises?” she asked.
He didn’t seem surprised by her question. “On sharks, they’re technically not penises, but that’s what they become when we shift. I have a question for you: why do men have two testicles?”
Monroe’s mouth opened, then closed. Well, damn. She could point out that humans had bilateral symmetry, but he was right. Two balls, but one dick. “Do the females have two—”
“No. Sharks have two because the males often take an off-center position for mating.” He paused. “Are we ok?”
“Yeah. It’s a lot to wrap my mind around. Do your girlfriends usually have a hard time with it?”
He surprised her by saying, “Either she knows going in, or she never finds out.”
“What about your friends and their girlfriends? I mean… how often do humans learn about shifters?”
“It’s not something we advertise.” He adjusted a lever on the control panel. “Last night you mentioned something about liking to visit museums. What kind?”
“Art museums, definitely. And natural history can be interesting.”
“Who’s your favorite painter?”
“Almost all the Impressionists.” She pursed her lips. “I bet you’d love to tour the United Nations. There’s a gift store… Maybe they sell books on how to change the topic of conversation with a little more delicacy.”
He grinned, but he didn’t take the bait. “There’s a pretty nice maritime museum on Curaçao. Maybe we can go over in a few days.”
Monroe looked out the window and realized that while they hadn’t seen much in the way of other boats for some time, now there was activity again.
She hoped they would be docking soon. She wanted solid ground under her feet. The last few hours had been too surreal, and she needed something normal to latch onto.
Chapter 6
It was just as well that he needed both hands to carry the water samples off the boat, because Koenraad didn’t get the impression Monroe wanted to be touched.
Obviously he could
have given her the information in a better way, but it wasn’t like he had experience with it.
And really, was there a good way to break that kind of news?
Yet she’d handled his being a shifter so well. As he thought about it, he realized she hadn’t even been terribly surprised. But then, it had been linked to what she thought of as a near-death experience. Maybe that was the trick… maybe what he should have done was use his genitals to save her life. He snorted, and Monroe looked up at him, her brow furrowed cutely.
“What’s so funny?”
No way was he telling her what had just passed through his mind. Not if there was any hope of saving their budding relationship. Instead, he nodded toward the parking lot where a sleek sedan waited. “That’s our ride.”
As they walked up to the car, a woman with short, tightly curled hair stepped out. Last he’d seen Beth, she’d had shoulder-length golden braids. But his nose and ears identified her.
She popped the trunk without being prompted, and Koenraad carefully placed the large cardboard box inside. He hoped the lab would be able to tell him something, because delivering these wasn’t how he’d wanted to spend his time with Monroe. Perhaps he should have had someone pick them up, but he wanted to be present for the preliminary inspections.
“Sorry to upend your schedule,” he said.
Beth made a dismissive gesture. “Hey, you’re the boss.”
Monroe stiffened at Beth’s words, and Koenraad realized that during his “Shifters who can dive are rich” speech, he’d neglected to mention that he owned the lab. He couldn’t seem to do anything right today.
He opened the back door for Monroe, and when she passed close by him, her aroma sent a bolt of arousal right to his groin.
Maybe this overwhelming attraction between them was the problem. He thought he was being smart, being levelheaded, but maybe he was just wrong. The more he thought about it, the more he decided he had moved too quickly. There wasn’t any need to have told her so much already. It could have waited until a future visit.
There wasn’t anything he could do about what had already been clumsily said, but he could certainly put a cap on the rest.
He wiped a hand over his face as he went around the other side of the car and got into the back. Monroe already had her seatbelt fastened, and he secured his even though he didn’t need to wear one. Short of exploding into a fireball, there wasn’t much that could happen in a car that he couldn’t recover from unless he decided to shift shapes before the healing was complete.
Master of the Deep Page 5
