He nods, and weirdly, I’m relieved. “These days, yes. I grew up in this house,” he explains. “My dad and mom and four of us orclings all lived here. Dad is dead. My mom’s in a care home. My siblings work on other levels.”
“I’m sorry—about your dad…”
“He died in the line of duty.”
Seeing his face tighten, I decide not to pursue it further. “Do you see much of your family?” I ask instead. He grunts. Wrongquestion, obviously. “My siblings, no. I see my mom twice a week.”
“Oh.” His heavy tone makes me feel sad.
“My room is in there,” he says, but doesn’t open the door to show me, and I find myself musing what his bed would be like, how big it would have to be to fit him. An image of snuggling up under that huge arm, my head on his chest, sneaks inside my brain, and I can only conclude that I’m going crazy.
Hardly surprising, with the day I’ve had.
Next, he opens a door right opposite his room. “This is the guest room. You can pitch in here for now. Bathroom is next door to your left. I’ll go get one of my shirts for you.”
“Thanks. And for this.” I slide the jacket off my shoulders and hand it back to him.
As his big hand reaches out to grab it, he glances down my bikini-clad body. It’s the most fleeting of looks, but his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be back shortly.” He strides out, almost slamming the door in his haste.
I hitch myself onto the big bed, my feet dangling over the side, and take a good look around. The room is furnished with cumbersome dark furniture, a big stone bedhead, a massive carved wardrobe that looks like it’s made of petrified wood, an ornately carved chair in the same style, covered in threadbare velvet. It’s all meant for a bigger species than human, that’s for sure.
Needs a woman’s touch.
I happen to love interior design. I love making things look beautiful, enjoy working with materials, sewing and the like, ensuring that colors coordinate. Already I’m looking at the lamps and imagining different shades on them, re-covering the chair in red velvet, maybe.
A moment later there’s a knock on the door.
When I call out, “Come in,” Otis enters with not one, but two shirts over his arm. “Choose, please,” he asks with an almost shy smile.
I take the lumberjack style shirt, with blue and green checks. I shove my arms in the sleeves and pull it around me.
Like his jacket, it comes to my knees and would probably wrap right around me three times.
His smile widens, his red eyes softening as he looks me over. “Suits you.”
I smile back, tuck a strand of my dark bob behind one ear. “I’m pretty much sorted then, apart from accessories.”
Suddenly he laughs, deep and mellow, displaying an arc of white teeth and the full length of his tusks. It transforms his face. Softens the hard lines of his jaw and forehead, sends crinkles fanning from the corners of his eyes.
I wonder how it would be to kiss him, how I’d navigate those tusks… and eek, how he’d kiss mesomewhere elseif he went down on me…
Heat floods my pussy. An answering heat spreads to my cheeks.
Luckily the doorbell rings. “I’ll go get that,” Otis says and disappears.
A moment later there’s the sound of voices—Jax and… Oh, I recognize that sweet laugh. It’s Sammy!
With a squeal of pure joy, I fly out of the room and into the arms of my bestie.
CHAPTER FOUR
OTIS.
Gods above, women sure do squeal when they’re excited.
Though truthfully, it’s heartwarming to see the greeting Clem and Sammy give each other, both of them jumping up and down, arms wrapped around each other. I swear they’re just about crying.
