Rosemary
She wanted to be more spontaneous. Honestly. Being a single parent meant she only had herself to rely on to get stuff done. She had all the responsibility. She had to be the one to get up every day and go to work, pay the bills, put food on the table and do the dishes, clean laundry and keep the house in some reasonable order. She had to be the one to keep her child healthy, make sure he got all the vitamins and vegetables he needed, stayed fit, didn't spend all his time playing video games, did his homework and brushed his teeth. No one else did all that. She had to be reliable and dependable. Spontaneous just didn't fit into her schedule.
But she wasn't a single parent anymore, technically. Mene poured attention into Michael's eager hands. For the first time, she didn't have to hound Michael to go into the backyard and kick the ball around. He was already there with Mene. He ate all his vegetables now, to grow up big and strong, and didn't complain about washing his hands or brushing his teeth before bed. Mene had it handled.
It was nice. Better than nice. She had a partner who helped, which meant the laundry was only a small pile, not a mountain, and she could afford to be spontaneous and have a bit of fun.
Fylle, it turned out, were giant ants. Well, large segmented animals with six legs, antennae and a bulbous butt that looked like an ant. If ants were six feet tall and pink. They had an ax-shaped head with large, multi-faceted eyes. No mandibles, thank the stars.
"That's your common domestic animal?"
"They are very gentle." Mene held out a hand for the fylle to sniff, its multifaceted eyes oddly black and empty-looking.
Rosemary shivered.
Mene saddled the creatures with a saddle over the mid-segment. He helped Michael into the seat and gave a quick rundown of commands. Satisfied that Michael could go and stop at will, he mounted the other fylle. He leaned down and extended a hand.
"Where's mine?"
"We ride together."
Rosemary narrowed her eyes. "You didn't mention we'd have to share. That's false advertising, bub."
Mene shifted in the saddle, back straight and radiating confidence. "I can safely oversee one novice rider. I cannot risk having my attention split between two."
"Then let Michael ride with you."
A grin split across his face, dangerous and just a little seductive. "He needs to develop his skill and will not do so if he is riding on my fylle."
The way he said that, riding on his— The wires in her brain short-circuited with a rush of heat. "Um, okay. Let's go for a ride."
Sugar. Did she say that and did he wink?
Double sugar.
With one of her feet in a stirrup, Mene pulled her up and over. He sat her down right in front of himself, snug and secure. He formed a solid wall behind her and wrapped one hand around her waist. The other lazily held the reins. She wiggled in place, trying to ignore the dig of something very hard into her backside. "Are you comfortable?" he asked.
"You're poking me," she whispered.
"Then stop wiggling about."
She refused to blush. His hard-on was not her fault. It wasn't like she was completely unaffected, either. "Then maybe we should get another horse."
"No, I am content." He cued the horse into an easy walk. Michael followed.
"Is he going to be fine?" she asked, eyeing the many-legged fylle.
"That one is gentle and older. Very patient with beginners."
"And this one?"
A laugh rumbled in him. "I suggest you hold on, my prefed."
Fantastic. Now Mene developed a sense of humor.
They rode an easy path down to the river. Birds sang an unfamiliar melody of spring. The breeze held a slight chill, but Mene's solid warmth kept her comfortable. She tried not to think about his thick legs on either side of her or the easy familiarity of his hand resting on her waist. Tension positively crackled between them. The sway of the fylle brought other rhythms to mind.
"I researched horseradish," he said, voice low and meant only for her. His breath puffed against the sensitive shell of her ear. "What part of the horse is it harvested from?" He shifted in the saddle, and there was no mistaking the solid lump pressing into her.
Sugar. She wasn't the only one thinking of other rhythms.
"It's, um, a root vegetable. Not actually from an animal."
"Are you certain? I read that it was potent." He ground against her.
"Are you teasing me?"
"Tempting you," he said with a chuckle.
He was. Stars help her, he really was.
"I find myself fascinated by all things Terran lately," he continued.
She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. She should ignore him. It was hard... Fudge. Bad choice of words. It was difficult to ignore him when he pressed against her and whispered in her ear with that sexy voice, but they agreed to keep it simple.
Correction. She said no sex. He agreed to wait, but he didn't say how long.
"I guess you're done waiting," she replied, keeping her voice quiet. Michael rode ahead, exclaiming and pointing at everything, oblivious to the adults.
"A hunter is patient."
"Yeah, bringing up horseradishes is super subtle, hunter. I totally didn't see that snare you left there."
"No, that was the crass overture to distract you from noticing that only a few layers of fabric separated our bodies." His hand snaked under her shirt and his warm palm pressed against the bare skin on her stomach.
Damn.
Um, dang. She totally meant dang.
"You are sneaky when you want to be, Meanie."
He hummed a response, tightening his grip on her waist and pulling her firm against him. She didn't mind at all.