Which was what she was worrying about as she drove up the mountain road that led to her cabin. Would Mike Fenster continue with his small nuisances—traps on her land and death metal music blasting at three in the morning? Or would he try to escalate to something worse?
Christine didn’t know, but she was afraid she was going to find out…
TWENTY-SEVEN
She was still in a pensive mood when she got home, as well as apprehensive about Roarn. Would the big Monstrum be okay? Or would something have triggered him into going back into Fury? She certainly hoped not—he was scary when he went into “beast mode.”
Letting herself into the cabin, her arms full of grocery bags, she looked around carefully.
“Roarn?” she called, but he was nowhere to be found and he didn’t answer her call. Christine frowned. Oh dear—had he gone wild and run off? Was he somewhere in the snowy woods on the side of the mountain? Had he gotten caught in another trap?
Putting the grocery bags on the counter—after shoving the one with meat in it into the fridge—she went through the cabin, looking in all the bedrooms. But the big Monstrum was nowhere to be found—he wasn’t in the bathroom, either.
Christine began to be really worried. Where could he be? But just as she was about to go outside and see if there were tracks leading anywhere in the snow, the back door opened and Roarn came in. He was wiping his hands on an old rag and the creamy fur of his chest was covered in grease and rust.
“Oh my!” Christine put a hand to her chest. “You scared me! Are you okay? And what’s all over your fur?”
This seemed to be too many questions for the big Monstrum to process all at once. Instead of trying to answer her, he gestured to the bathroom.
“Fixed…now,” he said haltingly. “Try…water.”
“What?” At first Christine didn’t understand him. Then she began to grasp what he was saying. “You fixed the hot water heater?”
“Think…so,” he said simply. “Try it.”
“I’ll be happy to!” Christine stepped into the small bathroom, which had a glassed-in shower stall. She opened the glass door of the stall and turned on the hot water.
At first the water coming out of the shower head was freezing, as it had been for the past month since the heater had broken. But then, to her delight, it began to warm up. Before she knew it, there was a cloud of steam billowing from the hot water spraying into the stall.
“Oh, this is wonderful!” She turned to Roarn. “Thank you so much! I could just hug you!”
“Might…get you…dirty,” he pointed out, nodding down at his stained chest.
“Oh yes—you’ve got quite a mess there.” Christine frowned. “Just hang on a second—I think some Dawn dish detergent should get that grease out.”
She went back to the kitchen, shedding her puffy coat, outer sweater, and boots along the way, and grabbed the squeeze bottle of liquid detergent. She’d never tried getting grease out of fur before, but she was sure Dawn would do it. Didn’t they use it to get the crude oil off the birds and sea creatures after oil spills?
She stepped back into the bathroom, where the water was still steaming, and tried to hand the bottle to the big Monstrum.
“Here you go—this should do it.”
But Roarn didn’t take the bottle.
“Maybe…you could help me…Chris-teen?” he rumbled hopefully.
“Oh…you mean here? Or…in the shower?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“Shower,” Roarn said at once, his golden-green eyes half-lidded with desire.
“Well…” She bit her lip. Should she do this? She was fairly certain that showering with the big Monstrum was going to lead to other things as well. But the fact was, she didn’t want to say no.
She didn’t care about all the reasons she shouldn’t—that she was too old for him or that this was certainly going to be a temporary fling. Who cared if it was temporary? It had been ages since she’d had a man who wanted her and they were both consenting adults. Why shouldn’t she have a little fun?
“All right,” she told him. “Let me just get out of my clothes.”
She had already shed her outer layers and now she took off her long-sleeved T-shirt and bra. Roarn made a low, hungry sound when her breasts were exposed and she remembered how much he loved to press his face between them and suck them. He didn’t seem to mind that they weren’t as firm as a young woman’s breasts—the only thing she saw in his eyes when he looked at her was lust and admiration.
Feeling emboldened, Christine took off her socks and then pushed down her jeans and panties. Finally, she stood before him naked.
“Well?” she said, holding out her hands. “I’m afraid I’m not exactly thin.”
“Beautiful,” he growled softly, his voice thick with lust. “Mature Elite.”