15 – Romance In The Great Outdoors
Mungo’s head throbbed in a rhythmic pounding that had her wincing. Her legs, her arms ached. A spot high on her right arm pulsed the most, and vague recollections of an arrow flitted through her confused mind. Blacklight filled her vision, and she had no idea of her location. A croak escaped her.
“Mungo. Mungo, are you awake?”
“Joe? Something be wrong with my eyes,” she whispered.
A masculine laugh sounded right near her ear. “Open them. That will help.”
“Nay,” she whispered, not believing Joe for an instant. She blinked, saw a flash of whitelight, and decided he might well be right. “Everything hurts.”
“I understand, sweetheart. My head thumped, and every part of my body ached during my recovery. I’d hazard a guess and say the berries give the user a hangover.”
Joe’s presence distracted her from her beating brainbox, and her ability to string words and thoughts together became easier.
“What’s a hangover?”
“The pain and sickness or nausea that comes from drinking too much wine or whisky.”
Mungo shifted her body and winced at a dagger of pain in her right arm. “Oh, aye. We call that pished. I dinnae drink much. Reilynn says ’tis unladylike.”
“Food and drink improved the illness. Let me help you sit.”
Mungo grimaced as Joe helped her to an upright position. It was then she noticed Joe’s twin. “We’ve met. I dinnae recall yer name.”
“Sly. How are you feeling?”
“Like a mob of rampaging coos ran over me.”
Sly laughed. “Ma and Scarlett will love you.”
“What happened? I remember eating one berry but the poison worked through my body, making my thoughts grow hazy.”
“I was out of it myself,” Joe said.
“Joe was already sick when we found you, and you told Saber to give him the berries.”
“Aye.”
“That was two days ago,” Joe said.
“It’s taken us that long to find more berries, and then it was luck we discovered them. Several of the Bone people wore them as necklaces,” Sly explained. “From what Saber understood, the berries are not ripe right now. We found a bush with green berries.”
“Drink this,” Joe said, handing her a flask of water. “Easy. Don’t gulp.”
Joe was right. After eating, she regained control of her limbs. “Where are the coos?”
“Ah, now I’m certain you’re recovering,” Joe said.
It was late in the cycle when Joe and Sly declared her fit enough to travel. The brothers packed up the campsite and stowed everything in one bag.
“Can you carry my clothes?” Sly asked. “I thought I’d shift and run as feline.” Sly slid off his shirt and sat to remove his boots.
Mungo watched with interest. A low growl right near her ear made her jump.
“Mungo, don’t look,” Joe ordered.
“I ken yer identical twins. This is an opportunity to compare ye, and see for myself.”
“You can take my word for it,” Joe said, forcibly turning her away from his brother.
Sly chuckled. “Mungo is improving. She’s feisty.”
A snort escaped Joe. “This is a warning, sweetheart, not to push me too far. I find I have little humor these days.”
The teasing seeped out of Mungo, and her brows drew together. “Does this mean ye’ll strike me?” She refused to stay with Joe if hidings and scolding were to fill her future. She’d had enough of that with her family.
“Beat you?” Sly asked. “No, we—”
“Don’t turn around,” Joe snapped. “Shift.”
“You’re Mr. Bossy Pants today,” Sly teased.
When Mungo tried to turn around, Joe held her in place but moved closer. She savored the heat coming off his big body. Instantly, her indignation faded, replaced by a strong yearning.
“Go,” Joe ordered his brother.
With a laugh, Sly shifted and prowled around them until Mungo could see him. He bore a distinct catlike smirk. With his gaze on Joe, he approached and licked Mungo’s hand.
“Go,” Joe said again, bolstering his demand with a feline snarl of his own.
Sly’s smirk widened before he bounded off with a flick of his tail.
“That wasnae verra well done of ye,” Mungo chided.
Joe didn’t reply, instead pressing his warm lips to her neck. She shuddered at the flash of heat that roared from the place of contact.
“Sweetheart.” Joe nipped her neck before releasing her. “If you’re strong enough, we should leave. I’d prefer to place more distance between us and the coast.”
“I thought ye said the land bridge only appears for a few cycles.”
“Each month. Yes, that is correct, but it is possible for men to sail across the sea using a boat or fly, if they possess a ship.”
“None of the Scothage clans own vehicles to fly through the skies. At least I think that is the case. I have heard of clans owning boats, but the Caimbeulach clan dinnae.”
“Good to know,” Joe said. “Shall we go? Sam left Harriet for us.”
“Where?”
“She’s busy grazing, near to here.”
Harriet nickered a welcome as they approached. Joe saddled her, gave Mungo a boost and vaulted up behind her.
“I want you with me,” Joe said. “Once we get to our home. I have my own bungalow. You can stay with me, or if you prefer, you can lodge with my mother and sister.”
“What would I do? I dinnae wish to wear a dress and do women’s work.”
She sensed Joe’s amusement rather than saw it.
“In five days—cycles—you can judge for yourself. Will you remain with me?”
“In yer bed?”
“That would be my preference.”
“Aye,” she said.
Joe’s arms clasped her, and his lips pressed against her neck. Mungo kenned nothing of what the future might bring, but Joe and his family, his friends had treated her with care and respect. They’d hunted for berries to cure her when her father would’ve turned away in disgust, leaving her to die.
“Excellent. The lands we’re to travel through belong to the Bone people. They are a hunter-gatherer tribe.
“Why are they called Bone people?”
“Many of them wear bone piercings in their noses. One of them—Gidget—grabbed the berries from me. She knew it was best to chew them for you. I’d never have thought of that. You’ll meet her when we reach the resort. She is on the hunt for a husband.”
“I’ll express my thanks in person,” Mungo said. “Tell me of yer plans for the coos. Where will ye keep them? Are ye sure they will do well in the greater heat of this island?”
The afternoon passed in pleasant discussion. Mungo had already learned much of Joe’s character in the way he treated the coos, and his and his brother’s plans excited her.
Whitelight was turning to black when they saw the herd. Roly, the owl, flapped his wings from his perch on Sam’s shoulder. He no longer possessed bald patches and was pure pink fluff now, his round brown eyes alert and interested.
Mungo, too, had regained most of her strength, although Joe, backed by the others, insisted that she sit and rest while they prepared dinner. As always, it fascinated Mungo to see their cooking pots and food appear from within neatly packed bags. Even the bedrolls were compact. From what she could see, they possessed three packs, taking turns carrying them while two of their party raced around in feline form.
Soon, Joe presented her with a meaty stew before taking a seat beside her.
“Are ye posting a guard this blacklight because of my father?” she asked.
“Partly,” Joe said when Sly, Duncan and Sam joined them. “We want to make certain the Bone people don’t go back on their word and try to take a cow to eat.”
“Saber and Eva told us huge birds live on this side of the island. We’ll watch for those,” Sam said.
Mungo frowned. “I’ve heard tales of big birds, although I’ve never seen one. Are they truly large enough to carry off a coo?”
“One of them snatched Eva. She’s Saber’s mate,” Joe said. “Saber was quick enough to grab hold of Eva but the bird carried both of them across the island.”
“How did they survive?”
“According to Saber, another bird attacked and the one carrying them dropped him and Eva,” Sly said, entering the conversation.
Sam chuckled. “We’re not sure whether to believe them because the bird grows with the telling of the tale.”
“We believe they migrate, since we’ve only seen them at certain times of the year,” Joe said.
“How will ye protect my coos?” Mungo demanded.
“We’re going to build shade areas. Remember, I mentioned those this afternoon,” Joe said.
“Aye.”
“They’ll serve a dual purpose. Protection from the heat of the day plus protection from birds. We’ll train the cattle to go to the shade area on command,” Joe said.
“Harriet too,” Mungo said.
“Yes,” Joe said. “Although we’ve never seen the birds near the resort. They appear to prefer this side of the island.”
“My theory,” Sam said, “is that they return to their breeding grounds to nest and raise their young before flying off wherever they go. Somewhere on the mainland.”
“But ye’re planning for the future, should there be a change.” Mungo nodded in approval.
“You have more color in your cheeks. It’s amazing how fast those berries work,” Sly said.
Joe wrinkled his nose. “Once the hangover wears off.”
“Aye, I dinnae wish to get poked with a poisoned arrow again.”
“I second that,” Joe said drily. “It’s getting late, and we have an early start. We want to travel as far as we can before the midday heat. We’ll set up our bedroll over there, but we’ll go to the stream for a swim first.”
Mungo blushed, but Sly nor any of the other men commented at Joe’s assumption. The truth—she wanted to sleep near Joe. His presence made her feel safe.
Joe stood and offered his hand.
Taking it, Mungo stood. “What about the cleaning up?”
“We’ll do it,” Sly said. “You and Joe have been sick. Go and rest.” He grinned and winked at Joe, and heat sped through Mungo again.
Joe grabbed a bedroll and guided her from the camp. He picked a sheltered, private spot, yet still close enough to his brother and friends to holler should she and Joe require help. Instead of unpacking the bedroll, he dumped it and tugged Mungo to the right. They wove between big trees and finally exited near a stream. It widened to a pool and steam rose from the surface. An unusual tang rode on the air, and Mungo couldnae decide if she liked the perfume or not.
“We camped here on our way to collect the cattle,” Joe said. “The area is volcanic, and the water gets its heat from the thermal activity.”
“Ye mentioned heated water before, but I dinnae believe it.”
“Yes, but let me test it first. Just in case the temperature has risen. When Saber and Eva were first here, the volcano was erupting and spewing out a river of lava. It blocked the path. The volcano is quiet now.” He squeezed her hand. “You look confused. Tomorrow, we should glimpse the volcano once we get out of the trees.”
Joe squatted by the stream and used his hand to test the temperature. “Perfect.”
He stripped and strode into the pool. She gaped at the flash of buttocks before the water rose over Joe’s waist.
“Coming in?”
After the heat of the day, Mungo welcomed the chance to wash. But Joe was staring at her with those pretty green eyes of his. His mouth curled into a smile—a teasing grin that dared her to remove her clothes and join him in the water.
Mungo sucked in a quick breath and stripped. She forced herself to maintain Joe’s gaze and walked toward him.
“Steam is coming off the water.”
“Didn’t you believe me?”
“I saw the steam but we have nothin’ comparable in the Highlands. I expected the usual cold water that is so icy it makes yer teeth ache.”
“Don’t put your head under the surface, but I can help you wash your hair.”
“What is the scent?”
“Sulfur. It’s a mineral.”
“I dinnae mind the smell.” She cupped her hands and dribbled the water over her head.
“I’ll help.” Joe waded closer. “Turn around and lean back. I promise I won’t let you go.”
Once Mungo complied, Joe dipped her backward until she floated. He continued to support her while running his fingers through her hair. No one had washed her hair for her before—not in her recent memory. It was relaxing and arousing letting a man tend to her.
“There you go,” Joe said. “Not perfect since we don’t have soap or shampoo, but I bet you’re relaxed now. I am.”
“Aye. ’Tis a pity we have to don our dirty clothing.”
“We’ll bundle them up and dry off during the walk back.”
“Naked?” Mungo exclaimed.
“Yes.” Joe cocked his head and even in the blacklight it was hard to miss his mischievous twinkle. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“I cannae walk in bare feet.”
“Ah.” His lips curled upward. “The naked bit doesn’t bother you.”
A groan escaped her. “I dinnae say that.”
They soaked in the hot pool, both relaxing in the warm temperatures. Finally, Joe waded from the pool and squatted to roll up their clothing. He handed the pile to her once she exited the water. Next, he picked up their boots. “Can you carry these as well?
Mungo took the proffered boots and sniffed. “Why am I doing all the work?”
“Because I’m doing this.” Joe scooped her off her feet.
Mungo let out an eep of shock and almost clouted Joe over the head with their boots. “Ye shouldnae give me such a surprise.”
“I shouldn’t give you flowers? Or chocolate?”
“I dinnae ken what chocolate is.”
“Aw, sweetheart.” Joe nuzzled her neck. “I can’t wait to spoil you. You’ll love chocolate. It’s a food from Earth. We’ve managed to make it here, much to the delight of everyone.”
It was a quick trip back to their bedroll, and Mungo kept hold of the boots, despite her inner turmoil. Joe kept surprising her and overturning her assumptions about men.
“I like you better without clothes.” Joe set her on her feet.
“Humph!” Mungo wrinkled her nose as she placed the clothes and boots beside the bedroll. “My father wants me to wear gowns. Ye want me to wear nothing. I prefer trews. No doubt the Grantlach would’ve ordered me to follow his preferences too.”
“Mungo.” Joe waited until he had her attention. “You can wear whatever you wish. As long as you’re happy, I will be too.”
He said that but marriage gave men power over women. It was the way they did things. Reilynn had explained it to her. In return, women gained safety and security.
Joe caressed her cheek, seeming to understand her thoughts had drifted. “I can see you don’t believe me. It doesn’t matter.” And he kissed her.
The instant his lips touched hers, she forgot about life’s practicalities and her stepmother’s explanations. Her arms crept around his neck and she clung. Her breasts brushed his hard chest, and she experienced a flying sensation.
“Oh,” she said when her back hit the bedroll. Not flying. Joe had lifted her.
An instant later, he joined her. He caressed her cheek, a tender smile curving his lips.
“Last time, I didn’t explore your body as much as I wanted,” he whispered.
“E-explore?”
“Yes.” He nuzzled her neck again, seemingly fascinated with her throat. He nipped the fleshy part where her neck met her shoulder, and she jumped. He chuckled, but he sounded tense rather than amused.
His hands wandered, tracing the curve of her breast. His mouth followed the same path, warm and insistent. Mungo sighed at the wondrous sensations he evoked in her. His lips fastened around her nipple, and she strained to get closer to him. A hungry little noise escaped her, and she winced inwardly. Rules. She had broken many since leaving the keep.
“Joe.” The suction of his mouth drew her back to the present. He kenned exactly where to touch her to make her happy.
“Ye must’ve practiced a lot,” she murmured.
He laughed, a more natural bark of humor. “You’re the one I want, sweetheart.”
“Why? I have red hair. My father hates me.”
Joe tugged a lock of her hair, then twirled it around his finger. “Your red hair makes me happy. Sly’s mate has similar coloring. No one will poke fun at you for your appearance. I enjoy the stubborn tilt of your chin and the way you insist that the coos belong to you.”
Mungo opened her mouth to avow the coos were hers, but he placed his finger across her lips.
“No, kissing is much better.” Joe leaned over her, crushing his mouth against hers. With his tongue, he encouraged her to open to him. She did so with a faint moan, and he took the kiss deeper. Pleasure roared through her as he gentled the caress and parted their mouths. He rubbed his nose against hers and smiled.
“Should I tell you what else I enjoy about you?” Joe asked.
Mungo gazed at him wordlessly, having trouble seeing his expression now that clouds covered the moons.
“Your strong body and enticing curves attract me.”
His hand ran across her chest, pausing to trace a circle around one nipple. He repeated the move before tiptoeing his fingers along her ribs. Her nipples pulled tight at the intimate caress, her breathing stalling.
“Your quick and clever mind.”
“Joe.” She stirred restlessly, her heart racing faster than normal.
“I enjoy the prissy way you tell me off and your precise accent when you call me a clot-heid.” He kissed her hipbone and gently parted her legs. “And how you’re not frightened to give me advice.” Joe ran his tongue along the crease of her leg.
Mungo gulped. “Is…is that ladylike?”
“Oh, yes, sweetheart.” In one quick move, he splayed her legs wider and lifted her buttocks. Then, he ran his tongue across her woman’s flesh.
Unexpected heat and enjoyment roared through her veins. “Oh,” she whispered.
Joe used his fingers and tongue, and he kept hitting an achy spot that made her tremble.
“Joe.” She swallowed hard, the sensations growing and surging until she couldnae decide if she should protest or keep going. Before she could choose, the pressure surged and splintered. Warmth and satisfaction shot along her limbs and her flesh pulsed. Joe seemed to recognize this since he gentled his licks before he eased away.
He stretched his big body alongside her and smoothed the hair from her cheeks. His gentleness and wide smile had her heart racing again. He licked his lips, and for an instant, she wondered if he intended to take a bite.
“Are you frightened of me?”
“Only when ye lick yer lips and regard me like a tasty treat,” Mungo shot back.
“My control goes to hell around you. I want to nibble.”
“Eat me?” she squeaked.
He laughed—a sharp bark. “Not in the way you mean.” He stopped her next question with his mouth. The kiss was slow and studied, yet passionate. It claimed. It dominated. It made a statement.
Joe rolled without warning, covering her with his muscular body. He nudged her legs apart and stole another of those slow, soul-destroying kisses as his cock pushed at her entrance.
During their first joining, he’d gone slow and made sure he didn’t hurt her. This time, he surged inside her with one stroke.
“Mungo.” He groaned, pulled back then invaded her body again. “You’re tight and so wet.”
Mungo gripped his shoulders as he shook and trembled.
“You’re perfect, sweetheart.”
His strokes grew faster, harder, yet he never hurt her. Instead, streaks of pleasure swirled through her again. Joe thrust into her and stopped, his big body shuddering. After a long pause, he lifted his head and kissed her lips.
“Sorry, that was so fast.”
She stared at what she could see of his expression as he separated their bodies. A surge of wetness dampened her folds, increasing as he stroked her between her legs. The gentle caress had her gasping. His mouth sought her breast. He drew hard on a nipple, the shard of pain darting down her body. Mungo sighed as Joe played her body and soon she writhed in his embrace, straining for the elusive pleasure. Ah, there it was. No sooner had she thought it, then blissful spasms filled her. She groaned, holding onto Joe as an anchor.
Joe held Mungo as close as he dared, inner turmoil tightening his muscles. His feline was pushing him to claim her, to bite her neck and mark her so every feline male they met understood she was unavailable.
Once that bite happened, it was irreversible. Not that he didn’t trust Mungo or that he wasn’t certain she was the one for him. He hated to trap her and wished to give her a chance to see what life with him might be. He wanted to give her choices, so he continued to war with his feline who wanted to claim, own, dominate in that order.
Her father held her in low regard as did her brothers. Mungo needed a champion, not a bully. From the moment he’d seen her, he’d wanted her and every moment he spent with her made him even more certain she was perfect for him and his feline.
“What’s wrong, Joe?”
“I was thinking about the berries and how we’re both lucky we’re still alive.” A lie, but his words held truth too.
“Reilynn would say it was meant to be,” Mungo said.
“You’ll miss her.”
“Aye. Her and Janeet. They both raised me. Made my life bearable.”
Joe promised himself he’d find a way for Mungo to continue her contact with the two women. Maybe they could arrange for them to visit the resort. He’d ask Saber.
Mungo yawned, and Joe gathered her closer.
“Go to sleep, sweetheart. You’re tired. I want to make love to you again before we leave, so grab some rest while you can.”
And maybe if she fell asleep, he’d persuade his feline his mate required rest.
Maybe.