The scene had appeared to be in slow motion, and he recalled it with great detail as if it had actually frozen in that space of time for an hour.
And then all hell had broken loose. Tears? Why? “What the hell is going on? And why didn’t anyone mention she was coming over today?” Charles tossed those rhetorical questions at Reese, who merely shrugged.
The glare from his mother told him to stay where he was and keep his hands to himself under penalty of death.
That made two days in a row Charles had felt reprimanded by a parent as though he were five years old again.
His mother hadn’t spoken a word, but the woman didn’t have to. A look alone from her spoke volumes and had always put her children in their place.
When his mother slipped out of the bathroom, noticeably alone, everyone scampered to resume normal activity. He wasn’t the only one desperately pretending all was well with the world.
Reese nudged him from behind. “What the fuck?”
Charles just stood there. He didn’t know one bit more than Reese.
But he couldn’t stand to see his mate cry, for any reason. It tore him up and almost trumped the allure of her sexy ass as she’d left the room.
When Jessica finally emerged from the restroom, she went straight to the kitchen and pasted on the fakest smile he’d ever seen in his life as she approached her human friends.
The women surrounded her and hugged her, muttering some insanity about it being her time of the month.
Even from the distance of several yards, Charles could hear their soothing words. His eyebrows rose at the angle of the conversation. That woman, his mate and Reese’s, was no more experiencing her “time of the month” than he was. In fact, quite the opposite. She was so fucking fertile today he nearly cussed out loud. Her body called to him and Reese like no other day of the month, begging them to take her, claim her, let her milk them dry with her pussy until they passed out from the exertion.
It was truly an unfortunate stroke of coincidence today of all days they were forced to endure this afternoon of faking like they’d barely met and didn’t care for each other any more than as passing acquaintances.
Though Charles doubted he could pull that wool over his mother’s eyes, considering the knowing look she’d given him in passing.
Obviously that was Jessica’s intention, to keep the entire family in the dark. Considering the broken glass Charles was tiptoeing over with bare feet, he wasn’t about to be the one to dump that information out for the entire family. He hoped to hell she’d come around in time … time being a relative word right now since Charles thought he might explode with need at any moment.
Charles turned to face Reese. “Ideas?” He pleaded with his gaze for his friend to come up with a plan that involved getting the two of them the hell out of here before they embarrassed themselves, Jessica, and the family. Oh, and let’s not forget Alyssa.
Reese merely shrugged and shook his head back and forth so minutely there was no way anyone else in the room was the wiser.
When Charles glanced again at Jessica, he found her clutching her stomach. For a moment he almost smiled at her ability to play this out so thoroughly. And then in a stroke of awareness, he realized she wasn’t faking. She was truly in pain. Mates, especially those not yet claimed, could not endure this proximity while ovulating without a great deal of discomfort. Her womb knew that, even if her brain hadn’t registered yet.
He watched in some fascination as Jessica shifted her weight from one foot to the other, crossed her legs, and squeezed her thighs tight around her pussy.
She was so wet, so needy. Sweat had even formed around her hairline. And it was not that warm in here. “Are we the only ones who can smell her lust?”
“I certainly hope so.”
Charles felt actual sorrow for Jessica’s situation and discomfort, but his own was a close second, and Reese was in just as much pain by the squirming shuffling he was doing alongside Charles.
“Let’s go outside for a few minutes. Maybe cool off.” Charles needed to escape. Now.
“It’s a plan.” Reese headed for the back door, pushed it open, and burst into the frigid weather as if his life depended on it.
Charles didn’t miss the glare from Alyssa, who still sat by the window, offering peripheral reprimands, even though she was now engaged in a game of cards with Tessa’s daughter. The child was still not feeling well, but it was Christmas break, and no one had the heart to force her to stay in bed.
“Fuck.” Charles nearly shouted the word the second he shut the door. Without more than a passing glance at the sky, he paced on the back porch of Justin, Trevor, and Kara’s home, not caring one tiny bit the snow was picking up pace and mixing with sleet.