Page 10 of Mink Hijinks
“You want to talk about cars?” He huffs a short laugh and it makes me smile.
“Sure. I work with my hands too, just with fabric and stuffing instead of steel and oil. Maybe I’ll learn something.”
It works to take him out of his head. He starts talking. At first it’s awkward, but as I ask questions and he explains, an aura of authority settles over him. He gets animated, uses his hands to mime a piston, and his face flushes. When he pauses, he seems surprised to find I’m still interested.
He blinks. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“I think it’s nice,” I say. “You’re passionate.”
His breathing changes. The flush in his cheeks spreads, but not from embarrassment. This time it’s a familiar creeping Heat. His pheromones rise in the air making my cock react. Pax grits his teeth and closes his eyes.
“Next wave,” he says, voice thin and trembling.
I stand up, ready to leave. “I’ll give you privacy?—”
Pax’s hand darts out and curls around my wrist. His touch sends an electric spark through my body.
Mate.
Mate.
Mate!
“Fuck.” I breathe out as I drop to my knees.
“What just happened?” Pax’s eyes are huge and focus on where we connect.
AARON
“I have to go.” I push to my feet.
“No, please. Please don’t go.Please.” His breath comes quicker, eyelids fluttering. “Pumpkin.”
The word snaps something open in me. The rest of the world narrows to this bathroom, the two of us, the way he looks at me with raw hunger and need.
“Baby, I can’t. Not right now.” I smoothe hair from his face, loving the way he presses against my palm.
“But—”
“We’re Fated. That means Icanget you pregnant even though you’re human. If you really want my knot, I need to go buy some condoms. Unless you’re ready for kids.”
His breath continues to quicken.
“Darlin’, breathe with me. Slow. Slow.” I keep my eyes on him, watching as he calms despite the spike of his Heat coursing through him.
Sweat beads on his brow. “I can suck you off, then you can go during the next lull.” He grimaces and reaches for a toy as he yanks away the towel covering his lower half. “I need you. Pumpkin. Pumpkin. Pumpkin.” He chants the word. His cock is so hard, my mouth waters.
The thick scent of his slick and pheromones chokes the air. I breathe it in deeply, wanting it to fill my lungs. “Okay.” I drop my robe as I stand. “How do you want me? And no riding my cock until we get condoms. Not that I’m against kids. I want at least one?—”
“Get in here. Straddle my chest. Choke me with your cock.”
I let out a strangled sound and assess the size of the tub. We shouldjustfit. I slide into the tub, knee to knee, thigh to thigh. But instead of pulling me into position, his hands roam my body.
His lips find my throat, desperate. His hands skim my chest, nails scoring over my pecs. “Touch me,” he begs.
“Whatever you need, darlin’. Whatever you want.” My hand cups his balls and he cries out. Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him.
I slide an arm behind his head, cradle him, and he shudders. The nest is a riot of textures: terry towel, cotton, the warmth of his skin, the scratch of his stubble. His hands are everywhere—on my chest, hips. He bucks against my abs, damn near coming instantly when he does. He’s gorgeous.
