Menagerie

Chapter 20 - Jasper

I snuck another look at – my mind still stuttered over the words – my mate. Lyle was completely relaxed, a little smile playing across his lips as he lounged on the bed. It was obvious he didn't care one bit about being naked and entirely on display. I couldn't help looking between his legs, a hot blush overtaking me when I remembered the events that had led up to this moment.

I could feel the bond that connected us now, though I was feeling strangely apprehensive of exploring it. Exploring it made it seem more real, and I was perfectly happy to bask in denial for a bit longer.

Denial was a fickle creature, and reality was a bitch. I really couldn't escape the fact that I was mated to Lyle, a werecougar.

I imagined explaining this to my parents and squeezed my eyes shut against the imaginary scene. Of course, that didn't help. They were going to be shocked. Hell, I was shocked, and this had been my decision.

Then again, how much of a choice had I really had? Certainly, Lyle had gotten my express consent before taking me here, but his scent was like a drug. I had definitely not been thinking clearly. Even now it swirled through the air around us, making me burn to be with him again. I squeezed my hands into fists – it was the only way to keep from reaching out for him. This was madness.

I opened my eyes again and found that he hadn't moved except to open his eyes, which were watching me with an unmistakable glint of satisfaction. Entirely without my permission, my hands unfurled from their fists and moved toward him. Lyle caught my wrists before my fingers could brush his skin and he tugged me down to lay beside him.

"You're thinking too hard again. Is this going to happen a lot?" Lyle said.

I snorted. "Yeah, count on it."

Lyle laughed. My chest was pressed to his, so I felt the vibrations all through my core. It was strangely pleasant. I looked up at him, at my mate, and tried to imagine having denied him. It was impossible. Once I got a true hit of his scent, I was his. My conviction helped ease the panic that kept building in me, though the panic never really dissipated before it swelled again. That was okay, I thought. This was new and would take some getting used to.

I glanced down at Lyle's naked form and shivered. It would take a lot of getting used to, but there was no denying the way he made me feel. A pull as strong as I had felt for him meant we were extremely compatible, and not only physically. That was another odd thing to think about, since I was so uncharacteristically submissive to him. He made me feel small, not in a demeaning way but in a comforting way. I knew he would take care of me. I didn't want to be the kind of person who wanted taken care of, but my objections faded to nothing when he was near.

Lyle slightly tightened his grip on my wrists and I looked back up at him. He looked extremely pleased with himself and I blushed at being caught ogling. I bit my lip and looked away from him, but Lyle released one of my wrists so he could take my chin and gently tug it back toward him. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm glad I please you."

Who says things like that? How could he be so calm about all this? I liked to think of myself as a fairly unflappable guy, but Lyle put me to shame. Then again, I suspected he might not have spent the past twenty-odd years thinking he was straight. This may not be such a shock to him.

"Would talking make this easier for you to process?" Lyle asked gently. The amusement I was beginning to think of as his trademark was simmering in his eyes, but the predominant emotion I could see now was compassion.

"It might," I admitted. We certainly had a lot to discuss.

"What would you like to talk about first?" Lyle asked. His fingers left my skin altogether and moved to the ends of my hair, which he toyed with contentedly while he waited for my answer.