Mene

 

 

Mene turned his back for a moment, and his mate was alone with another male, covered in that male's scent.

Unacceptable.

"What's wrong?" His mate laid a hand on his arm and looked up at him with her soft, green-brown eyes.

"It is time to leave."

"So soon?" She shrugged one shoulder. "It was interesting. I don't get that many adult social events. This was, well. Fun isn't the right word. Something. It was something."

"This was fun to you?" Irritation pricked at him. She had fun with another male.

With Nals.

"I just said it wasn't."

"We are leaving." He summoned his vehicle via his wrist communicator. The autopilot feature would have the vehicle waiting for them when they left the building. With his hand in the small of her back, he guided her toward the door. She didn't fight him, thankfully. Many Council members were watching them now, and he couldn't afford to have them question their mating. Nals spreading doubt would be bad enough. Damn that male—

"Seriously, what's wrong?"

"I do not like you talking to other males," Mene said.

"Well, you're going to have to get over that real fast, buddy."

"I am your mate, not your buddy," he hissed. They were now outside the building and away from nosey males who had too much free time on their hands.

"Fine." She folded her arms over her chest, and her expression went blank. She was upset. At him. Unbelievable. "Just take me home."

"That is what we are doing. That is why we are waiting for my vehicle." As he spoke, the vehicle arrived. She huffed, sliding in but said nothing further. Just as well.

"This is not how I intended the evening to progress," he said. His mate stared out the window but said nothing. He punched in the destination, and the vehicle drove itself home. He was exhausted and angry, not a good combination for driving.

Mene's mood only deteriorated on the ride back to the house. "Where is my son?" he demanded when he entered the house. There was a scent inside, faint but it tickled at the primal part of his brain. It was the scent of his mate’s desire, faint but lingering.

"My son is sleeping over at a friend’s tonight," she replied. Her tone made it clear that she refused to entertain his bad mood.

"What friend? Have you done a security check on his parents? Where is their home located? Is it secure?" Exhausted as he was, he'd go over there right now to ensure the safety of Michael. As it was, he checked all the windows and the notices from the security system. He scrolled through the log on the tablet computer.

"He's at Reven's house. His friend from school."

"I do not know a Reven."

Rosemary sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face. "You want to argue tonight, fine. I can think of a few things we need to discuss, but don't you dare say I'm a bad mom. I'm not, and you know it."

He set the tablet down. "You are correct. That is unfair of me."

"Apology accepted." She kicked off her shoes and fell backward onto the sofa. "Those things are murder on my feet."

"Then why wear them?"

"Vanity." She crossed her feet over the arm of the sofa and wiggled her toes. As if from some Terran magic, his mood lifted.

"I meant everything I said earlier," he said. He craved his mate, true, but he missed her presence in ways that had nothing to do with his cock.

"Well, I meant what I said earlier, too." Then, "Sorry about that guy."

"Do not apologize for the actions of a rude person. I will settle the matter with him."

“Nals acts like he is your friend, but he’s not, is he?”

“No.” They were brothers in the same clan. He respected Nals’ skill and prowess as a warrior and mentor at the Academy, but they were not friends. “Not exactly.”

“We have a word for that: frenemy.”

Mene nodded. Yes, friend and enemy. “That is accurate.”

"He knows we're fake."

"We are not." He did not want to argue, and he did not want to have this conversation.

There were several unplayed messages, so he played them.

A gaunt Terran male with stringy, unwashed hair filled the screen on the wall. "Turn it off," Rosemary said, rushing to the controls.

"Who is that?" Mene was certain he had never seen the male before, but his face held a familiarity.

"It's no one. Please, turn it off."

He prowled toward the screen, as if he could pull the unknown male’s secrets from the device. Mene knew him, somehow.

The message played. "You think you can keep me from my son, bitch?" Mene's hackles went up. He now knew the male was Michael's progenitor, and he did not appreciate how the male spoke to his mate. "It's either the kid or your cash, and don't tell me you don't got it. I know you got hitched to one of those alien dogs. You thought you were so slick, didn't ya? Well, I found out. And everyone knows that you get a pile of cash when you marry an alien. One million credits. So give me my money or I'll have cops waiting for you when you set foot on Earth. I’ll take my boy back."

The screen went black, only to be replaced with the same male. The message was much the same: demands for credits followed by a vague threat.

Rosemary turned the screen off. "I'll save you the time. They're all like that."

"That is Michael's sire."

"My ex, yeah." She gave a weak smile. "I sure can pick them, huh?"

"I do not think levity is appropriate at this moment."

"Am I laughing?"

"What does that male want? Why is he contacting you?" His mate was still covered in the scent of another male. Now this male communicated with her. Several times. Mene paced the floor, irritation pricking at his skin and horns. His tattoos burned with annoyance.

She shrugged a shoulder. "Vince wants money, like usual."

"You tolerate this behavior?"

He spun on his heel and was on her, towering above her. She gasped and took a step back, face ashen white.

"What's gotten into you?" Her voice trembled with the question.

"A male has been harassing my mate, and my mate did not trust me enough to seek help. You tell me, what is wrong with this situation?"

Her shoulders went back and her chin lifted, the fight returning to her. Good. Mene wanted a fight. "It wasn’t a problem. I had it under control."

"This is why you cannot return to Earth? This male?"

"Basically. I have a lawyer now. We filed a petition for custody. Vince doesn't have a legal leg to stand on." He growled as she said his name. Vince, Vince, Vince. Damn the stars that male was born under. His mate continued, "It's not a big deal. I know you're only helping me out because you're a good guy. I didn't want to bother you."

Not a big deal.

Only helping her out.

How many times had his mate reminded him that their arrangement was headed for failure? She so readily accepted this fatalistic outcome that she did not try to avoid it. She assumed the worst of him because she had only ever seen the worst of other males. 

The tablet computer snapped in his hands, and he tossed the broken pieces to the floor. Rosemary backed away, putting the sofa between them. "What's going on in that head of yours, sugar plum?" Her voice was artificially high pitched and sweet. He frightened her.

She should be frightened. He was a killer. The Council did not send him on missions where the solution was a sit-down meeting and handshake. If they summoned Mene, the only solution was to be found in blood.

"Did you have relations with another male?"

"What? No. No," she repeated. "Where is this coming from?"

Where was it coming from? The stink of sex was unmistakable in the house. Jealousy clawed at his brain. "You claim innocence while you have the stink of another male on you." His lip curled in disgust.

"From his jacket!" She threw her hands up in the air. "You know what, I'm not talking to you when you're like this. Was it the booze? I only had a glass but you, Mene Rhew, are a mean drunk."

"I am not drunk." He wasn't. He had not touched alcohol all evening.

"Then you're just a bastard."

"Swear Jar," he said on reflex.

She grabbed her handbag and threw a handful of coins at him. They clattered to the floor. "Consider it a deposit because I fucking can't believe you have the goddamned nerve to accuse me of sleeping around."

"Is that not what Terrans do? Is that not what you told me? Your race is so chronically unfaithful that you have to make vows of fidelity to your mate, but even then it is temporary." That vile word again.

He followed the scent. She tossed her hands in the air and gave a soft, frustrated scream. She stomped up the stairs to their bedroom, following him.

“You know I’m not a virgin,” she said. "But that does not mean I'm boffing some random guy I met at a party."

He said nothing, chest heaving. The scent was stronger in this room. A musk.

Her musk of desire.

His mate continued to prattle, but all he could concentrate on was the source of the scent. “I have a son. That means I’ve had sex at least once—”

“Do not speak to me of other men,” he snapped. The scent was not on the bed sheets.

"Well, sunshine, it happened and don't you fucking dare try to slut-shame me."

He followed the scent into the cleansing room. There. In the shower. A pink device, silicone and shaped like a cock but curved with a bulbous head. He twisted the knob at the base and it rumbled to life.

"What are you—" She entered the room. She blushed, which told him he found something that she would rather keep secret. Always secrets with her. "That's private."

He held the device to his nose and inhaled. Her cunt. It was glorious. He fought the urge to lick it clean and then toss his wayward mate to the bed and taste the source.

"It has the scent of your cunt on it." Her blush intensified, which told him she was uncomfortable, but he continued to push. "What is the purpose of this device? Why does it vibrate?"

"You know—" She reached for the device, but he held it above her head, just out of reach. "Come on, don't be a jerk. Give it back."

"Explain."

"You know," she repeated.

"I do not know."

"Fine. Keep it. See if I care." She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. She lifted her chin and turned away from him.

"It is for sex." He stated the obvious, just to watch the blush spread across her face.

"Yes, okay. For masturbation. It's a vibrator. I use it, and that is a perfectly healthy thing to do." Her face burned bright red now.

"Show me," he said, thrusting the vibrator toward her.

"No!" She jumped back.

"I command it." He wanted to see this. He wanted her to demonstrate how a false cock could satisfy her and then he would demand to know how she could desire that and deny him.

"Well, tough cookies. I'm not in the mood."

"But you do get in the mood." First, she kept her problems with Vince secret from him, and now this.

She blinked, her green-brown eyes wide. "Of course. Everyone has urges."

"And you did not think to ask for my assistance to relieve you of these urges?" Another failure of trust.

"Oh, and did you ask for my assistance when you were spanking it in the shower?"

"Spanking?" His mate was nonsensical.

"I saw you in the shower, Mene! I saw you jerking your—" She waved a hand toward his groin. "Jerky, so don't get all high and mighty on me. It's normal."

Fury clouded his vision: fury at the situation and fury at himself for allowing it to progress so far.

He chose this. He chose her. For better or worse, those were the Terran words. She had warned him, and still, he refused to believe.

"It is normal for mates to share pleasure together," he said.

"You wanna fuck? Is that it? Fine. Fine!" She bent over the bed and flipped the bottom of the dress up, displaying her ass and the lacy panties she wore. She pushed the panties down, revealing smooth and creamy skin. Dark blonde hair and petal pink skin flashed briefly as she settled on her elbows. She wagged her ass at him, in a parody of invitation. "Come and get it, sugar plum. I'm a bit dry, and I'm just going to lay here, but you really don't care if I enjoy myself, right? So long as you get your nut."

He did not understand how the situation twisted. His mate was on their bed, presenting herself, asking for him. On the surface, it was exactly how he wanted the evening to end, but the reality was so far removed from what he envisioned.

He threw the vibrator against the wall, shattering it at the base. The motor sputtered a few moments before dying altogether.

"Cover yourself," he said, voice cold.