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She yawns. “Sorry, I’m babbling I’m just tired. I’ve barely slept for the last three months. That flight across the country with screaming babies is still giving me PTSD. And then there was the drive up here to the commune. And I’m still dealing with the time change.”
Her chin hits her chest and the bottle starts to fall from her fingers, which is fine because Bran is done.
I stand up carefully and rearrange both babies into her arms. All three of them are sleepy, recovering from their exhausting trial—living amongst humans.
Then I take the bottles into the kitchen and soak them, then return and scoop my little family into my arms. I carry all three of them at once down the hallway to the primary bedroom. I frown because the bed isn’t made. I’ll have to remember to take care of this later.
My female yawns and stretches as I place her onto the bed and cover her with a blanket. I can’t help but stare at her sleek legs and the curve of her generous breasts under shirt. She buries her cheek into my pillow, inhales and falls quickly asleep.
I carry Bran and Owen both back to the nursery and wrap them up and place them gently into their individual cribs for a nap.
Then I walk back into the doorway of the bedroom and watch my luscious female sleep. I could easily slip into the bed and take her now—she’d be eager and ready. The scent of her arousal is wreaking havoc on my body and all I want it to shove my fingers between her thighs to check how wet she is for me.
But I turn, cross my arms and stomp out to the front room.
Because I will not touch a female I ca
Ever again.
Chapter 8
Drew
That night I make a quick di
Whelan starts a crackling fire in the stone fireplace, pulling from a stack of logs on the front porch that I suspect he cuts himself.
I drill Whelan with more questions about his life because I can’t seem to shut up. A good night’s sleep and a terrific nap earlier have turned me both bright and cheerful. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. And I want to know everything about this orc who is the father of my babies because understanding him makes me understand my boys better.
And I really do enjoy the idea of cooking again for the both of us, especially since I’m able to start fresh with a sparkling clean kitchen. I’m the type who likes to cook meals for myself rather than grab take out. I’ve tried to invite dates over to my home for di
I cut Whelan another glance because I can’t keep my eyes off him. If I’m going to cook and he’s going to always do the cleaning, then sign me up. This male is amazing. He’s huge, powerful and intimidating and yet generous, loving and protective at the same time.
I’m begi
He’s handsome in a proud, rough-hewn, edgy way. Whelan stomps over and calmly sits at the small kitchen table, barefoot and bare chested because he said his blood runs warmer than mine. His hands and feet are huge, as are the hard muscles on both arms. His nose is large and crooked but regal. His neck is thick and his lips plush. And I wish I could crawl onto his lap and plant kisses all over that warm green skin.
Both babies are nearby in bouncers and grip a tiny rattle in each hand, smiling and drooling. I love their matching blue outfits and their little starter horns. So damn cute. They both had tummy time earlier on blankets with their daddy at their side and I thought I’d faint from the adorableness.
I really like this wild orc with the large horns and flashing tusks. The male I originally found at a hotel bar is easy to talk to. I enjoy caring for our babies together. Not only is Whelan sexier than I remember but I haven’t found anything about him yet that’s a red flag. I’ve met his father and two of his friends, slept in his bed and snooped in all his drawers and cabinets. It’s only been twenty-four hours, but he seems an open book with nothing to hide.
I’m still wearing super short shorts under my long cardigan and no bra under my thin t-shirt. And I’ve managed to appear half naked in front of him at least five different times since I arrived.
Because a girl’s gotta try.
“I was told you’d gone, hunting?” I ask as turn up the heat on the gas stove because the pot of water is close to boiling. “Does this mean that’s your job? Are you a hunter for the commune?”
“I’m a decent hunter but that’s not my main job. I sit on the council and usually settle disputes between orcs according to our laws.”
“You’re an orc lawyer?”
“There isn’t such a thing within my culture. But I’ve become well known over the years in my dedication to learning orc law, most of which is recorded on pictographs and passed down through oral tradition. My cousin Alden helped to invent a written language for orcs which I’ve also learned and now I want to write down our common law. I’ve barely started on this project, but it is my goal.”
I look over at him, impressed. “That’s a great project. I’d like to help too, in any way I can.”
He snorts, not believing I’ll be around long enough to help him with anything.
I pour a box of pasta into the pot of boiling water. “I haven’t seen any guns or weapons here in the cabin. What do you use to hunt?”
“Orcs aren’t allowed permits to carry guns. We are already considered deadly weapons.”
“Don’t you need rifles to hunt?”
“No. Only weak human males use guns to take down their prey. I hunt with my bare claws or with weapons I create at the commune, in the ways of old. There are a team of hunters who work daily, bringing in fresh meat and we eat what we hunt. Human food is purchased from the local grocery store an hour away, but orcs who live in communes enjoy fresh wild game to retain optimal health.”
“Is it okay that I’m making this pasta? It was next to the pancake mix and syrup I used earlier. The package was dusty and it’s close to expiring but it was in the cabinet along with that jar of spaghetti sauce…”
“No, of course that’s something we can eat. It’s there in case…”
“In case, what?”
“In case I ever had a female.”
I smile wide. “And now you do.”
He shakes his head. “I mainly eat at the communal fires with the single orcs. Mated orcs and their families join us sometimes, but they like to eat together at their own hearths.”
“So single orcs eat together the wild game that’s grilled and males with human wives who like to cook for them eat their meals, that include a lot more human food, together with their children in their cabins?”
“Yes, and they are considered lucky. We don’t want to intrude on their bonding time at meals.”
“Oh, that’s sweet.” I pause to pour spaghetti sauce into another pot, then turn to smile at him. “I think it’s good that we’re talking like this. We have children together, but we were still strangers who didn’t know each other. This is another reason why I wasn’t certain about you that night, because I didn’t know you.”
“I was always certain about you,” he grumbles.
I grab some plates and start setting the table. “You know, I think the problem is that you are used to having family you can count on. You need to know that I’m a very independent person. I’ve had to take care of myself. I never knew my mom. My dad took care of me but always seemed a