Whose Bed Have Your Claws Been Under: Chapter 13
Despite the chilly air swirling around us from the open door, my skin burst into flame.
“I’ve never done anything like that,” I said, picturing myself lying on a soft surface while Darrow dribbled chocolate sauce on my body, then licked it off. I’d do the same thing for him.
“Pity,” he said, his gaze trained on my mouth. “I think you’d like it.”
I would. No doubt about that.
“Have you?” I gulped out as the rest of our group passed us, heading into the front parlor where a fire crackled merrily.
“Not yet.” He took my hand and led me along with them. “I’ve been waiting for the right time, right place, and right person.”
Me?
I knew this guy inside and out, or I had ages ago. His exterior had changed quite a bit, but he was still the Darrow I believed I was in love with when I was sixteen. I couldn’t quite reconcile that skinny friend with the muscular, sexy-talking gorgon standing beside me.
One thing was clear: he wanted me any way I was willing to give myself to him. It was up to me to decide what and when. I sensed he wouldn’t push for anything I didn’t want to give, but if I told him to take me to bed right now, he would.
And I’d enjoy it, chocolate sauce or not. I knew that deep within my bones.
“Inside here,” the staff member said ahead of us, directing us into the room. As if Monica had called ahead to place her order, mugs of steaming cocoa sat on a table near the fire.
“Grab a cup,” Bart said. “Sit by the fire and warm up a bit. The judges are tallying the scores, and they’ll make the announcement soon.” His tails swished back and forth behind him, long and thin with a bushy tip—the color matching the long mane surrounding his face.
Poppy grabbed a cup, squirted whipped cream on top, and sidled over to sit with him on the sofa. When she licked the cream, his eyes widened, but he grinned and whispered something that made her skin darken.
They made a cute couple, and I wished them all the best.
Darrow handed me a mug, and when he sat beside me near the fire, leaning close, one of his hair tips stroked my cheek.
“They like me,” I said, lifting my mug to take a sip. As the cocoa touched my lips, a feeling of warmth radiated across my skin. The smooth texture glided down my throat, coating it with heat, though it couldn’t compare to the fire licking through me from Darrow’s touch. Did I dare suggest we sneak away and see what we could do with a can of whipped cream?
“Every part of me likes you, Paige, not just my hair,” he said. His gaze remained locked on mine as he drank. When he lowered the cup, his tongue dipped out to lick off a bit of chocolate on his upper lip, and I pictured that tongue gliding across my nipples. Other intimate areas too.
I met his gaze. “What do you plan to do about—”
“We have a winner,” Bart called out, his hooves clicking on the hardwood floor as he stood. He trotted over to stand among us. “First, let me tell you that our judges had a very difficult time deciding, and all the scores were quite high. In fact, they had to re-tally the numbers more than once before they could confirm the winner. Our sculptures are so amazing, they’ll be showcased by the castle over the next few weeks.” His gaze swept through the room, taking in each of us, finishing on Poppy. He gave her a wink.
Monica sat on the sofa on Trevor’s lap, encircled in his embrace. She’d tipped her head back to look up at Trevor, and I suspected she was more interested in where she could lounge in front of a fire naked than in hearing who won.
Gunner held Rylee in a similar manner, though they’d taken an oversized squishy chair near the window.
“Wait for us,” Grannie Vi called out. “Don’t announce anything yet!” She and Uncle Bub entered the room, their canes clunking on the floor in harmony, and settled on a big squishy sofa together. She lifted her cane, pointing the tip at the room in general. “You may now proceed.”
Uncle Bub grinned. “Mighty amazin’ sculptures out there. My bones would be frozen, but you young folks have plenty of vigor left inside you.”
Grannie whispered something that made his wrinkly cheeks go pink, and he chuckled, slapping her thigh.
“I have a feeling they’ll park our bear somewhere near the woods,” Rylee said with a merry laugh. “Or maybe we can take it home and put it on our front lawn.” She giggled when Gunner nuzzled her neck, whispering something that made her arms tighten around him.
Even Raze and Elisa leaned forward in excitement, though they’d chosen two upright chairs with a coffee table between them. She shot him a look I couldn’t define. Longing? Nah, she didn’t like him. She’d made it clear he was about to become her stiffest competition, that she was going to do anything to make sure her business succeeded despite his potential interference.
Raze was an unknown to me. I’d seen him around town a few times, but we’d never talked. From a distance, I’d caught his uptight expression, and since he perpetually wore a business suit, I got the feeling he wouldn’t be much fun at a party. But my mother always said that still waters run deep.
“It’s clear to us who won,” Grannie Vi shouted.
“Please,” Bart said, holding up a front hoof. “Each sculpture is equally stunning in its own way.”
“That’s what I was sayin’,” Uncle Bub said. “That bear darn near makes my bones shiver.” He wiggled in his seat. “And the dragon? I kept expectin’ it to shoot flames.”
Elisa grinned at Raze, who was looking Uncle Bub’s way, and missed it.
“As for the castle, I’d be tempted to set up housekeeping there if I didn’t have a fine suite at Violet’s B&B. Besides, she needs me to make my special scone recipe each Sunday.”
Grannie Vi shot him a denture-filled smile and patted his arm. “Your scones are amazing, Bub.”
“And as for the train engine, I haven’t seen such fine workmanship in ages,” he added. “And you and Poppy’s minotaur looks like he could be your brother.”
Poppy grinned. “We did a great job.”
“Exactly,” Bub said.
“See?” Gunner said to Rylee. “I told you it was perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” she said. His head swooped down, and he gave her a lingering kiss.
“Now you know why the judges had such a hard time making their decision,” Bart said. “But there can only be one pair of winners and . . .” He fluttered a piece of paper in the air. “It’s Darrow and Princess Paige!”
“Princess?” Monica giggled and slapped a hand over her mouth as the other staff members beamed my way.