8 – Dangerous Adventure
The roar grew closer. The water swifter. Mungo peered ahead to the misty spray above the river. The man was crazy if he thought to escape by this route.
’Twas a waterfall. Sweet charity.
They’d die.
They had to backtrack.
Instinct took over. She jabbed with her elbows. A groan escaped the man and his grasp on her loosened. Mungo jumped off Harriet and struck the water with a huge splash. Harriet shied. The man hollered in fury. Then Mungo went under. She popped up, gasped for breath and struggled to find her feet.
She couldnae.
The water ran too fast, pulling her into the deeper flow.
Another furious shout attracted her attention. Harriet bucked and twisted. She reared. The man flew through the air, leaving Harriet riderless.
Mungo tried to swim to her, but the water was too powerful. The swift current dragged her downstream, away from the steed. It yanked her under and, despite her clawing hands, the force of the current never popped her up until her lungs burned for air. A rock gouged her arm, and water closed over her head again. She grasped for rocks, for overhanging branches but the stream swept her away, swept her toward the falls. The torrent carried her around the corner. She bobbled upward.
Over there.
If only she could get to the shallows, to the lower incline. She could climb to safety there.
Mungo struggled against the flow, fought the current with every muscle. To no avail. The water swept her onward.
She heard a panicked scream. The prisoner. She watched him vanish over the fall.
Sweet charity.
The water churned and bubbled. Rocks jabbed and poked her limbs. She sank, came up briefly and gasped for air.
Then, she was falling. Couldnae fight the powerful water. Couldnae see. Couldnae breathe.
Joe shifted and approached Harriet, speaking to her in a soothing voice. He untangled the reins from her front leg and ran his hand over her quivering striped side. He led her toward the grassland above the water, carefully studying her gait. She appeared unharmed.
“Pretty girl,” he crooned, petting her again. God, where was Mungo? If she died, he’d never forgive himself.
Harriet grazed, and Joe removed the reins, so she wouldn’t tangle herself. He doubted she’d wander far.
“Joe,” a voice said.
Joe halted and glanced behind him. It was Callander. His two enforcers stood beside him, still in wolf-form.
“Where’s the prisoner?”
“I think he toppled over the falls. He abducted Mungo at stunner-point. I have to find her.”
Joe shifted, and Callander did the same. He raced down the hill with the three werewolves and tried not to think about what he might find.
The waterfall poured into a big, round pond. Joe scanned the banks and his heart squeezed tight. It was Mungo, and she wasn’t moving.
He shifted and ran to her, fear engulfing him as he dragged her clear of the water. With a trembling hand, he checked for a pulse. His breath hissed out and briefly, he hugged her to him.
“Is your girl alive?”
“Yes.”
“Our prisoner isn’t,” Callander said in a gruff voice.
“Is that a problem?”
“Nope. He’s wanted dead or alive. They intended to execute him, anyway. This will save the officials the problem.”
Joe glanced at the prisoner the two enforcers dragged from the water. A collision with a rock had crushed in the side of his head.
“It’s the shape of your steed’s hoof,” Callander said. “I’d heard they took a dislike to some.”
Joe frowned. “Mungo was riding the horse with the prisoner.”
“If your girl fell off leaving the prisoner in control, the steed might’ve reacted.”
Joe nodded, not taking his gaze off Mungo. “What will you do now?”
“We’ll call our pilot and get him to collect us.”
Joe smoothed Mungo’s hair from her face. Her trews had a rip on the leg and the copper tang of blood rose to his nostrils. He figured she’d scraped herself on rocks. At least her heart beat strongly. She’d live, and he prayed she’d forgive him for not protecting her.
“Thank you for signaling us,” Callander said. “We feared you might not.”
“I have no desire to get into the bounty hunting business.” Joe raised his attention from Mungo to meet Callander’s gaze. “I’m a farmer. I enjoy working the land.”
Mungo groaned but didn’t open her eyes.
“I should go.” Joe cradled Mungo close, needing her proximity. “It’s not far back to my friends.”
“We could give you a ride,” Callander said.
“Thanks, but I need to collect the horse, and I doubt we’ll make the tide. My cousins and friends will have crossed the land bridge to the island by now.” At least he hoped they had. After meeting Adair Caimbeulach and hearing about Mungo’s family unease stirred within him. Add in the werewolves’ warning and he thought it wise to place a sea between them.
Callander nodded and handed Joe another of his electronic tags. “Take this. If you ever require aid, we will come.”
Joe studied the werewolf’s face and saw nothing but sincerity. “You don’t have to do that.”
The two enforcers grunted while Callander barked out a laugh. “Most species we deal with try to double-cross us. They demand a cut of the bounty or attempt to steal our quarry after we’ve captured them. You have done neither, which earns you a future favor.”
Joe nodded. “Thank you. If you’re ever on Ione Island, come and visit me. I and my brothers would welcome you.”
The enforcers grunted again, drawing Joe’s attention.
“Another first,” Callander explained.
“I mean it.” Joe gathered Mungo and rose. “Thanks.”
As he climbed the hill with Mungo, he heard the rumble of voices, discussing their prisoner. Joe sweated freely by the time he reached the open pasture where he’d left Harriet. The horse raised her head from her grazing and nickered a welcome. He set down Mungo in the shade of a tree and brushed the long strands of red hair from her face. She showed no signs of waking and worry seeped through him. He’d prefer her awake and plotting against him or calling him a clot-heid in that strangely attractive brogue of hers.
He checked her for wounds and found nothing more serious than cuts and scrapes. The bump on her head worried him more, but her breathing appeared normal. Since they’d miss the tide today, he’d make camp here for the night, and they’d leave early in the morning.
Harriet’s saddlebags yielded nothing. Not surprising. Duncan had probably cleaned them out before they had handed over Harriet to the escaped prisoner. He stroked Harriet and checked her for injuries. She, too, bore scrapes and small cuts, but nothing serious. Next, he gathered some pink ferns to make a more comfortable bed and sat beside Mungo to wait.
The hours passed and darkness settled over the landscape. Joe tied Harriet close to the makeshift bed. Mungo was sleeping peacefully, and he settled alongside her to share body warmth. He’d slept beside her for the last two nights, the habit natural and right to his feline side. He drew their bodies closer. Hopefully, she’d wake soon.
Without warning, an elbow shot into his ribs. He grunted and barely dodged a knee to his balls. Joy suffused him, despite the danger to his person.
“Mungo, you’re awake. How is your head?”
“Joe?” Mungo ceased her struggles. “Is that ye, Joe?”
“Of course it’s me,” he said. “Who did you think it would be?”
“Ye let that brute take me. Ye turned yer back and walked away. Ye told him ye dinnae care.”
“As soon as you were out of sight, I followed. I will never leave you.” Joe pulled her to him. “I about died of shock when I saw the waterfall. You didn’t hear my shouts.”
Mungo shivered. “I remember trying to claw my way upward, then everything goes hazy. What happened to the man?”
“Dead,” Joe said. “He had a Harriet-size print in his skull.”
“Once I heard the waterfall, I jumped off Harriet. Harriet bucked. She turfed him off. I heard his screech, but the water swept me away and I dinnae see what happened.”
“You need not worry anymore. The werewolves arrived and took him away.”
“Werewolves?”
“Bounty hunters. We met them before you joined us.”
She snorted and the spurt of derision pushed his lips into a grin.
“Ye mean when ye abducted me.”
Joe pressed a kiss to her temple. “I came for you because you matter.”
She issued a sigh, and it cut Joe. He opened his mouth to reassure her then considered her relationship with her family. Apart from her stepmother, she hadn’t received the same love and support as he and his brothers. A few days acquaintance wasn’t enough to overcome years of emotional abuse.
Instead, he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her. The first brush of lips was barely enough for a taste. When Mungo kissed him back, he deepened the contact, relief uppermost in his heart. His mate had survived. He had her in his arms, and now he had a better chance to woo her during the days of travel required to arrive at the resort.
Mungo dinnae ken whether to celebrate or wail at her recapture. Joe had come for her. He’d left his precious coos and tracked them. He’d risked everything he cared about for her. Mungo’s heart ached at the unexpected knowledge, unsure of what to do or how to react. Her arms wrapped around him, and she froze.
Bare shoulders.
“Where are yer clothes?”
“Back on the beach. Duncan hid them for me. It was quicker and safer for me to travel in feline form.”
Mungo glanced downward. A pity it was blacklight.
Joe’s chuckle dragged her gaze back to his face. “’Tis not seemly for you to peek.”
“Ye’re laughing at me.”
“A little,” he said. “You should try to sleep. We must leave early to catch the tide right and join up with my cousins.”
Mungo gazed up at him, ultra-aware of his strength and his inner goodness. In that instant, she considered a future away from the clan. Her family. Although she’d kenned the men for a few cycles, they’d never struck her. Never treated her with anything other than respect.
“I’m not tired. Tell me more about yer home on Ione Island. Will ye ever return to yer first home? The other planet?”
“Not now,” Joe said. “We’ve put down roots on Ione and have ties to other communities and species on the planet. Sure, I miss Earth. I miss our farm and the life we had there, but if we returned, things will have changed. I don’t know if they discovered a cure for the feline virus that decimated our population. We have no idea where it came from. We heard rumors the government released the virus on purpose because they thought we’d become too powerful.”
“From what ye have told me, yer people have different things to us.”
“You mean technology?”
Mungo frowned at the word. “Our way of life is simple.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s bad,” Joe said. “Just different. Technology is stuff and possessing it doesn’t make for happiness. You’ll see how the resort works once we arrive. I think you’ll like my mother, sister, and sisters-in-law.”
But would they accept her? “What if they hate me?” Was she truly thinking of going with Joe? Tingly warmth suffused her as she considered the future. He’d put her first. No one had ever done that for her before.
“I like you and that is all that matters.” Joe followed up his statement with a kiss.
Not one of his gentle caring kisses, but deeper and more sexual. Passionate. Heat roared through her on the tail of her warm thoughts. A sense of need for more. His hands wandered and skimmed beneath the hem of the soft shirt he’d given her. His callused fingers sent urgency crawling through her veins. Her breasts prickled, an unusual heaviness making her aware of her femininity. Instinct had her wriggling to get closer.
“If you don’t cease your squirming, I’ll forget I’m a gentleman.”
Mungo stilled. “I dinnae believe I’ve ever met one of those.”
She giggled at Joe’s grunt, enjoying the way she could say anything, even insult him and his friends, and he didn’t backhand her or take offense.
“Are you insulting me? I heard you call the escaped prisoner a clot-heid.” Humor sounded in his tone now. Laughter.
“He was an eejit. How he expected Harriet to mimic a nimble-footed goat and climb the cliff, I have nay idea. The man died because of his stubbornness.”
“The bounty hunters were chasing him. That made him take risks.”
Joe’s arms squeezed her, holding her tighter for an instant. The pressure against her bruises and cuts hurt, but she never protested the flash of pain. The contact healed and delighted her since apart from Reilynn and Janeet, no one ever touched her with affection.
“C-can I explore ye?” Heat gathered in her face at her forward manner.
“All you need to do is ask.” Joe released her and turned onto his back. She caught a flash of his grin in the scant light from a moon. “Stroke me wherever you want.”
Her gaze flashed down his body and back to his face. “Anywhere?”
“Anywhere,” he repeated. “I desire you. I crave your hands on me.”
A tremble shook her fingers as she reached out to touch him of her own volition. She placed her hand flat on the middle of his chest. The warmth struck her first, and her breath whooshed out in astonishment when she registered the rapid beat of his heart.
“Is that all you intend to do?”
Mungo stared at him, wishing for whitelight and perfect vision. “N-nay.”
“Do I make you nervous?”
“Nay,” she snapped, embarrassed by her lack of experience.
“You shouldn’t be. I don’t bite.” He waited a beat. “Much.”
Mungo snorted. “Dinnae forget. I’ve seen yer teeth.”
“Touch me, Mungo. Please.”
It was the please that reassured her more than anything. That and the blacklight she’d bemoaned a mere instant earlier. She sucked in a breath and slid her palm across his muscular chest. His skin was a darker color than that of her people—likely because he ran around without his shirt while it was cooler in the Highlands. Their men seldom removed their tunics.
She’d seen him and his cousins naked several times. Their nakedness didn’t appear to bother them. While decency bade her to avert her gaze, curiosity had tempted her to sneak a peek or two. She slid her hand across his flat belly, explored the ridges of muscle that rippled with each move. She hesitated.
“Touch me, Mungo,” he whispered, his voice rough and gritty.
Her hand slid lower still until she reached his tadger. “It’s grown.”
“You make it so,” he said with a broad smile. “Continue, please. I enjoy your hand on my cock.”
She curled her hand around his shaft, the flesh silky hot beneath her touch. Her fingers flexed, and he groaned.
“Joe?”
“You’re gonna kill me,” he said.
The amusement in his tone reassured her.
“Like this.” His bigger hands curled around hers. He demonstrated an up and down motion, and when she followed his silent instructions, he groaned again.
She stopped to peer through the blacklight.
“Don’t stop.”
“I’m not sure what to do.”
“I’m happy to be your playground.”
His words confused her, and she struggled to comprehend the meaning.
“What if I explore you and we go from there?”
She considered his suggestion, thought of Reilynn and her strict instructions to stay away from men. Not that they ever noticed her, anyway. She swallowed. The truth. She wanted this, and Reilynn was far away in the Highlands. She’d never ken Mungo’s behavior.
“Aye,” Mungo said.
“Thank you, God,” Joe muttered.
In an instant, he lifted her body and resettled her carefully on the pile of ferns. Even now, he showed his caring nature, considering her bumps and contusions. He pressed his lips to hers, and the tension that had slid into her gut lessened. She welcomed his kiss and opened to his questing tongue. Her hands lifted to wind around his neck and hold him close should he halt before she was ready. Finally, he parted their lips to kiss the tip of her nose, her eyelids. He trailed a line of kisses down her jaw and she giggled when he unexpectedly nipped her neck.
A harsh sigh escaped him when he reached the spot where her neck and shoulder met. His tongue licked over the fleshy pad, the sensation rough and slightly abrasive. His tongue swept back and forward until every nerve ending sang a tune of delight.
Joe’s teeth scraped over her neck, and his big body trembled without warning. He cursed—a word she dinnae ken, but the tone told her of his mood.
“Joe?” Nerves now danced through her stomach. Had she done something wrong?
“Shush, sweetheart.” His warm breath drifted across her neck before he levered upward.
“Did I do something wrong?” She dinnae need to pretend her confusion.
“Can I remove your T-shirt?”
Her gaze rushed to his glowing eyes. In the blacklight, they appeared more yellow than the true green. Faintly menacing. “A-aye.”
“If you want me to stop, tell me. I refuse to force myself on you.”
Their gazes remained connected, yet she read nothing in his expression. Cursed blacklight. All she saw was his glowing yellow eyes, which should’ve been enough to scare her into fleeing. Instead, she took a leap of faith and went with her gut. In the short time she’d kenned him, he’d kept his word and behaved with decency. And he’d come for her. She couldnae forget that truth.
“I trust ye, Joe Mitchell.”
Joe helped her to sit. “Lift your arms, Mungo Caimbeulach.”
His teasing tone returned, and the last vestiges of anxiety dissipated. She lifted her arms and Joe whisked the shirt over her head.
“Should I remove my breast band?”
“Let’s remove all your clothes.”
“A-all?”
“You can see me. I’d enjoy seeing you in return.”
“Aye.”
Joe disrobed her with brisk rapidity as if he feared she might change her mind. The realization he was trusting her and was equally uncertain of her reactions and thoughts eased her last reservations. Despite Reilynn’s stern voice whispering through her mind, she wanted this next step.
“You’re beautiful, Mungo.”
“Nay.”
“I love your bright red hair and the way it glows like fire in the sunlight.” He combed his fingers through the curly strands, using care so he dinnae tug at the knots. His big hands cupped her skull and rubbed. “Your brown eyes remind me of caramel and whisky, and each time I see the tiny tilt of your nose I want to kiss it.” His lips skimmed her nose before he kissed each eyelid. “Then there is your chin. It often lifts with a trace of arrogance and determination. It hints at your bravery and courage.”
Mungo’s mouth grew slack as he whispered his enticing words.
“Your lips give away your femininity.” He chuckled and shook his head. “How did I mistake you as a man?”
“The trews and tunic give me more freedom. It’s difficult to roam the countryside in a dress.”
“I imagine it is,” Joe said.
“My father ordered the maids to burn my trews and tunics.”
“He did?”
“I was away with my coos when he gave the order and saved this one pair. He forbade me to purchase more.”
“We’ll get you more clothes once we reach my home,” he promised. “Now, where was I? Your mouth.” He traced her lips with his tongue and then kissed her. It was slow and sweet and left her heart racing. “Your neck is slender…”
His fingers stroked her neck. Back and forth. Back and forth. The fleshy pad at the base seemed to fascinate him. He dipped his head and delicately nibbled there before a shudder jerked his body. He sighed and moved onward with his explorations. His big hands coasted down her arms, the pressure enough for her to notice yet not causing pain.
“Your arms are muscled and strong from working outdoors, yet feminine and sleek. Your backside is high and rounded and it makes me want to nibble.” He turned her a fraction and nipped at one buttock before she communicated her shock and surprise.
Did men and women do that to each other? Who kenned?
“Now your breasts.”
Mungo held her breath, eager to learn more. “I dinnae ken ye were observing me so closely.”
“You intrigue me,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Some men might think your breasts too small, but to me they—you—are a delight. They fill my palms.” He demonstrated by cupping her breasts. “And I’m very eager to taste your nipples. The color reminds me of apricots.” Joe lowered his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth.
The jolt of pleasure had her flinching, the echoes of her enjoyment seeping downward to gather in the secret place between her legs. Joe drew on her nipple while he pinched and plucked the other with his fingers. The twin sensations joined and once again, migrated downward.
Joe kissed her, and she sighed against his lips while his fingers continued to toy with one nipple.
“Should I continue?”
“Aye.” She never hesitated.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He moved his lips down her body, kissing the fullness of her breasts and sucking on the nipple he’d pinched and tugged earlier. Her nipples became sensitive and hard yet she wouldnae stop him. He trailed his fingers down her rib cage and blew warm air against her belly button. She fidgeted, sensing there was much more.
“Patience, sweetheart.” Joe gripped her hips with his big hands. “Spread your legs, so I can fit between.”
She hesitated.
“I can stop.” His rough words were reassuring and bolstered her courage.
Mungo splayed her legs, and a shiver worked through her as the cooler blacklight air caressed her swollen flesh.
“Perfect,” he said, his approval filling her with elation and pride.
Her pulse raced as she waited for his next move.
“Beautiful.” He combed his fingers through her pubic hair, then parted her flesh and stroked with another of his gentle caresses. Her secret place had become damp, and the moisture allowed him to stroke her, the friction delectable. His fingers pressed against a sensitive spot that made her stiffen, made her gasp.
He chuckled. “Now that I’ve established our species are compatible, I’ll get to the pleasant stuff.”
Old hag’s toes! Not compatible? She’d never considered the fact. All she kenned was he drew her with his bossy tendencies, his caring for those weaker than him. His fairness. His honor. Aye. Joe Mitchell had more integrity in his little finger than all her brothers combined. “What do ye mean not compatible? Does that happen?”
“The physiology of some species means they cannot mate with others. We have discovered this through our work at the resort.”
“Oh.” It was all she could think to say. “Are ye sure we will work together?”
“Yes.” Satisfaction and a trace of humor coated his tone.
Before she could ask more questions, Joe distracted her with his featherlight touches. Every now and then, he skimmed across a sensitive spot that had her pulse rate leaping and her breath catching. He leaned over and kissed her, the continued stroke of his fingers moving in time with the thrust of his tongue in and out of her mouth. Mungo shivered, every part of her body seeming to float while the pressure and pleasure shimmering from the achy spot between her legs grew and expanded.
Mungo gasped for breath the sensations growing bigger and stronger until they bordered between pleasure and pain. She dinnae ken whether to demand Joe stop or urge him to continue.
Joe tore his lips from hers and moved back down her body. To her shock—he replaced his fingers with his mouth and tongue. He teased her flesh, driving her higher and faster until she feared she might explode with the force of the sensations. Then, without warning, she detonated, the pressure splitting apart and pleasure surging down her legs and along her arms. The spot pulsed and languorous waves chased the first explosion of something so bright and fierce she couldnae fathom how to describe the feelings.
Throughout, Joe licked the pulsing spot until she became too sensitive for more. She tried to move, and Joe lifted his head, looking askance at her.
“I-I cannae explain how agreeable that was but then it started to hurt.”
“You’re sensitive. I’ll remember that for the future. Are you ready for more?”
His eyes glowed even more brightly, claiming her stare.
“Mungo? I asked you if you want to continue?”
“Aye.”
“I’m so glad that is your answer.” He gripped his tadger in his right hand and stroked it, seemingly uncaring she was observing the private moment.
He leaned over her again, and his captivating smile rivaled the gleam of the night star. His gaze smoldered, and she imagined they were even brighter than usual. He nipped at her bottom lip and she experienced a tug deep in her belly. The muscles of her inner thighs quivered as she waited for the more that Joe promised.
Then he covered her body with his, yet held his weight on his arms. He guided his tadger between her legs and pushed until it glided inside her. She twisted and squirmed at the weird stretching sensation. He pulled back and pushed deeper inside her. Mungo bit her lip at the discomfort, the surge of pain.
“Nay. Nay, I dinnae believe we’re compatible. Ye’re going to break me.”
Joe stilled at her protest, but he laughed softly and brushed the tangle of hair off her cheeks. “We are compatible, sweetheart. I promise you this. Sex is always uncomfortable for the female the first time.”
Mungo swallowed. “This pain will cease?”
“Yes.”
“How can ye be sure?”
“Do you trust me to show you?” He kissed the cheek while she considered her answer.
So far he’d gifted her with pleasure. She trusted him not to hurt her more than necessary. And he’d come for her. Everything in her softened at these facts.
“Please show me.”
Joe nodded and bent to kiss her again. She savored the press of his lips against hers, the tangle and stroke of their tongues. He broke off the kiss and licked the shell of her ear—a weird yet strangely pleasurable habit. The rough beard on his face scraped her cheek as she kissed him back. His chin. His neck. Curiosity led her to massage the spot of skin on his lower neck, and his entire body shuddered. His breath whispered across her lips, an instant before he claimed her mouth again. His kiss turned from sweet to demanding as he increased the assault on her lips.
He withdrew a fraction until his tadger almost pulled free, then he surged inside her, pushing inexorably deeper. The pressure increased, the flash of pain and the entire time, he kissed her, catching her cry with his mouth. Joe retreated and thrust again. She tensed but he slid in smoothly until he could go no further.
A sense of fullness assailed her, yet the pain subsided.
“You’re wet and tight,” he said, his words like an explanation to her befuddled mind. “And we fit perfectly.”
She clutched his shoulders, crying out when he hit the right spot. He grinned down at her and repeated the stroke. She reached up, wanting to get as close as possible to him. This cat-man with his honor gave her a sense of worth.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold tight to my shoulders.” His big body grew tense. “That’s perfect. I need to go faster.”
He increased the pace of his strokes, and she grasped his biceps. The curl of pleasure inside her grew bigger and more overwhelming until she sobbed with the intensity. Then, she was flying, the blissful soar of enjoyment that suffused her with warmth and belonging. As she came down, she was aware of Joe’s arms wrapped around her. He rolled until their bodies parted and she lay on top of his muscular torso.
“How are you, sweetheart?”
Mungo yawned, and he laughed.
“That’s perfect for my ego. I’ve put you asleep.”
“I dinnae ken why the lassies whispered about the menfolk and enjoyed lying with them. The men reek, ye ken.”
Joe laughed, his broad chest shifting beneath her body. “I take it I passed the sniff test.”
“Aye.” She yawned again.
“You’re tired. Sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
She relaxed and breathed in Joe. She’d come to like him, his people. Mayhap she’d go with them willingly and no longer try to escape. It wasn’t as if her father cared for her wellbeing. Joe spoke highly of his clan women. He and the other cat-men respected them and treated the women as equal partners.
Aye, she’d go to this place where women could wear trews and do jobs outside the keep. At least that way she’d stay with her coos.