Jealous Freakn’

Chapter Nine

Playing the card game, Asshole-which still made them giggle just as energetically as it did when they were kids-with Mitchell, Naomi along with whomever wasn’t out searching for the hunter got tedious after a while. But, Francine couldn’t deny that even as she missed Alejandro, she enjoyed spending time with Mitchell, the boy she remembered now a man with the same temper and twisted set of morals that let him cheat at cards, but think that his sister’s BFF was off limits.

Or used to be off limits. True to his word, he’d not left her presence since her injury the previous morning, sleeping by her side, grumbling that she kicked in her sleep. His family took his presence as a given, not saying a word, which surprised Francine given his family weren’t the types to curb their tongues. It seemed everyone assumed he’d taken his rightful spot. Francine might have thought it too except for one thing; he didn’t say or do anything to make her think his newfound glued to her side status was permanent. Which really sucked.

She wanted to think he’d turned the corner when it came to his thinking of her, that he’d forgotten his idiotic obsession with treating her as his sister. Hard to pretend, though, when he did nothing to convince her that he saw her in a romantic light. He’d not tried a repeat of his kiss-not once-even though she’d woken a few times with his face mere inches from her, his eyes studying her intently as if she puzzled him. Yet, despite his lack of action, she could see the hunger in his gaze, and she caught him adjusting himself when he thought she wasn’t looking, obviously aroused. She loved that she could cause such a reaction, hope blossoming that she’d finally get what her heart had forever desired.

However…even as she exulted over their burgeoning closeness, she worried about Alejandro and missed him. Funny how in his short time, he’d managed to snag a portion of her heart. Odder still how she saw nothing wrong with caring so strongly for another man while in bed with the one she’d always loved. Naomi’s right, I am a skank. One who wasn’t getting laid, unfortunately.

“What’s got you looking so down, Red?” Mitchell asked, tweaking a curl, employing his new nickname for her.

What would he say if she said she needed some naked loving? Probably dive out of the window if past incidences were any indication. Maybe she should keep her lusty needs to herself. “Has anyone heard from Jag?” she asked.

“Nope, and I say good riddance to that. Maybe the alley cat’s slunk back home.”

Mitchell just couldn’t resist the barbs about Alejandro. She elbowed him and he grunted. “Alejandro wouldn’t do that. He said he’d come back.” And despite her own trepidation that he’d gotten a taste and lost interest, a part of her believed him when he said he’d return.

“Like a cold sore.”

“Don’t be an ass, Mitchell. Despite what you think of him, he’s been nothing but nice to me. Nicer than you’ve been I might add.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here, aren’t I, keeping you company and saving you from boredom?”

“And what about the five years previous to that?” she remarked dryly.

“I was busy?” he said with a hopeful lilt.

“Busy shagging skanks. And the only reason you’re even talking to me again is because of Jag. At least he’s never bowled people over to escape me.” Although, Mitchell was doing better. He’d gone from one extreme to another, glued to her side if for reasons still vague to her.

“Can we stop talking about him?” Mitchell grumbled.

Oh ho, did she hear a hint of jealousy? What fun. “Why? I like talking about him, like how big and strong he is. What amazing eyes he has. Oh, and he does this wicked thing-”

A pillow slapped her on the head along with Mitchell’s growled, “Enough. You like the cat. I get it. Now, change the subject.”

“Are you jealous, Mitchy?” she bugged as she yanked the pillow off her head.

“Of course not.”

Even she could hear the lie. She smiled to herself. “Fine. No more discussing Jag and how awesome he is. What do you want to do instead?” she asked as she gingerly rolled onto her back. The gunshot wound had closed, the skin knitting itself together, but still felt very tender. One of Mitchell’s hands helped prop her as the other stuffed pillows behind her back.

“Wanna play cards again?” he asked. Done playing nursemaid, he leaned back.

“No. And I swear, if you try and make me, I’m going to hide the ace in a hole that you’re not going to like.”

“Testy, testy. Wanna watch some television?”

“It’s eleven a.m., which means talk shows or reruns. No thanks.” She didn’t need to know who the father of the teenage girl’s baby was. Seriously, how did people stomach those shows? And the Price Is Right just wasn’t the same without Bob Barker.

“Okay, grouchy one, what do you want to do then?”

“Truth or dare.” She blurted it out without even thinking. She immediately expected him to shoot the idea down. Once again, he surprised her.

“Okay, Red. You’re on. Me first.”

She frowned at him. “Why do you go first? I came up with the idea.”

A smirk twisted his lips. “Which means I go first. Or do you want to arm wrestle for the privilege?”

He’d like that, wouldn’t he? “Jerk. Go ahead, ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

He grinned. “Excellent. So what’s it going to be, truth or dare, Red?”

“Truth.” Her eyes dared him to do his worst.

“Are you really going to let the cat move in and share your bed?”

“Yes. He’s a great cook and I liked sleeping with him. All night long. He’s the one who complained I didn’t share the bed well and that I stole all the covers.” She presented him with an innocent smile that completely ignored his glower.

Mitchell growled. “You didn’t answer the question. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then next time ask me properly because I answered the question. My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

She cackled. “Ooh, you’re feeling brave, are you? Okay so answer this then, do you still see me as a sister?” Going after him with a big blazing truth gun, she almost held her breath waiting for the answer.

His eyes scrutinized her, and his answer, when it came, emerged slowly. “No. I most definitely don’t think of you as a sister anymore.” Her heart raced as she waited for him to say something more on the subject, but instead, he said, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you love the cat?”

Blinking at the blunt question, she didn’t immediately reply. Honesty meant she couldn’t avoid it, even if she knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “I’m pretty sure I do.” A blank mask dropped over his face, but she could see the tension in his body.

“Are you going to let him claim you?”

“My turn to ask a question,” she said, stalling him. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Are you here just to protect me?”

“No.”

He didn’t elaborate and she glared at him. The jerk just grinned. “I love payback. My turn. Truth or dare?”

Having heard the question already, she avoided it. “Dare.”

His brows shot up. “Aw, so that’s how you’re going to play, hmmm? Chicken. Okay then, I dare you to tell Naomi she’s fat.”

Francine snorted. “I already did that this morning when you were in the bathroom. She then told me I looked like a scraggly refugee. Come on, you can do better than that.”

“Such a smart ass. You want something harder then? Fine, I dare you to kiss me.”

“Seriously? Piece of cake, although, to spare my back, do you mind bending over so I can reach you?”

Chagrin flashed on his face and she almost laughed as he leaned over, his face hovering in front of hers. “If you want to change your mind it’s-”

Plastering her mouth against his shut him up, and this time, her mind clear, her body rested, she could say without a shadow of a doubt he felt just as good as she recalled. Slanting her mouth over his, she nibbled the flesh, enjoying how his heart sped up and his breathing got more and more ragged. He pulled away first, swallowing hard, his eyes alight with passion, but he controlled himself, if with difficulty, the cords in his neck standing out. A quick glimpse down showed his hands clenched into fists. He still insisted on staying in control, it seemed. What a shame. She wondered how far she’d have to push him before he finally caved.

Her voice husky, she said, “My turn, truth or dare?”

He licked his lips, and a surge of lust roared through her as she realized how much she wanted that tongue-in her mouth, on her body, in her pussy. But Mitchell wasn’t Alejandro. He required more coaxing.

“Dare?” He spoke the word it as if worried, and with good reason.

Tossing him a wicked grin, she pointed to her groin clad in track pants. His forehead wrinkled with incomprehension and she smiled wider.

“I want you to put your mouth on my crotch and blow.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“So I’ve been told. What’s wrong? Are you turning down a dare? Pussy. Jag would do it in a heartbeat.”

“But someone could come in. And you’re hurt. And…”

She rolled her eyes. “I am really starting to think the rumors of you in the sack were false. I mean-Oh!”

The startled sigh escaped her as Mitchell placed his face between her thighs, his mouth against her sex. He blew and even filtered through her track pants, she felt the heat. And he didn’t do it just once. No, he kept his mouth pressed on her, breathing at her, and even through the fabric, it aroused her. Melted her into a puddle of aching desire. And she craved more.

Shudders wracked her and a low moan vibrated through her, followed by another when he worked his lips against the fabric, tugging at her. Her fingers gripped his hair, and she ignored the twinge of discomfort in her wound as she rocked her hips against his face.

“Phone for you… Hey, pervert, that’s my bed you’re misbehaving in,” Naomi screeched at her brother.

As if scalded, he rolled off the bed, the passion on his face warring with his red-cheeked embarrassment. As usual, he got mad and blamed someone else.

Pointing a finger at Francine, he stammered, “She made me do it. She dared me. Yell at her.”

Naomi grinned at her. “Truth or dare?”

“Of course. Idiot thought he could beat me at it.”

They both snickered while Mitchell scowled at them. “Did you want us for something other than causing trouble?” he growled.

“Oh yeah, phone call for Francine.” Naomi waddled to the bed and handed over the cell phone. “It’s Alejandro. Or should I say Jag, which I must say, is the coolest nickname ever. Javier won’t admit it, but he’s soooo jealous.”

“Am not,” Javier hollered from the hall.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can come up with another kitty name for you, like Sylvester or Tom,” she yelled back, grinning. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to call him God in public, although he has no problem with it when we’re alone.”

Ethan lumbered in shaking his head, and swept his mate into his arms. “I apologize for her wayward tongue. The pregnancy hormones have made her crazier than she already was.”

“Oh, teddy bear!” she snarled.

“Yes my delicate flower?” he said, placidly carrying her out.

“Don’t you flower me. I resent being called crazy. I prefer straightforward.”

Francine giggled. She loved seeing Naomi so relaxed with her men. I’d love to have the same type of relationship with mine. She’d almost forgotten the phone in her hand, but a tinny “Hello?” made her bring it to her ear.

“Alejandro! Are you okay?”

“Hey, baby. Miss me?”

“More than you deserve.” She smiled as she said it, glad he’d called.

Mitchell crawled back on the bed. “Is that the cat? Ask him if he caught the hunter.”

“Tell the dog, not yet.”

“He heard you. Now, you didn’t answer me, are you okay? When are you coming back?” It eased something in her to hear his voice, to know he’d not forgotten her.

“I’m fine if lonely and horny. The hunter seems headed back to my hometown so I’ve been following him. I’m hoping to corner him tonight, which means I should be back tomorrow sometime, the day after at the latest. What about you, though? How’s your back?”

“Healing. They won’t let me do anything,” she grumbled.

“Ahh, poor baby. I’ll try and get back soon so I can find ways to keep you entertained.” His soft chuckle made her smile because she could so easily imagine what he meant.

“Pig,” she said softly.

He laughed. “I miss you too. How are things with the dog?”

“They’re going.”

“I’ve got to say I’m surprised Mitchell hasn’t used my absence to make his big move.”

Peering over at Mitchell, who pretended not listen, she said, “We’re making progress.”

“In other words, he’s dragging his heels instead of seducing you. Idiot. Better get him to hurry up because once I get back, you probably won’t be allowed up for air for at least a day or so.” That made Mitchell growl and leave the bed. Actually, he left the room entirely, his back a rigid board.

She sighed.

“I take it he left?”

“Of course he did. Progress doesn’t mean he’s ready to admit he has feelings for me even if every time you’re mentioned he turns absolutely green.”

“Has he at least kissed you yet?”

Francine blushed, tongue tied at the question. Exactly what is the protocol to admitting to your lover that you’ve let another man kiss you?

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. I’ll be damned. Looks like you might get what you’ve wanted, baby.”

The surreal tenor of the conversation threw her for a loop. “How come you’re so casual about this? Hell, even so encouraging? Most guys would be… Jealous and freakn’.”

“And chance losing you? No thanks. I’m not blind or stupid. You’ve wanted Mitchell pretty much all your life. If I forced you to choose between us, there’s a possibility I wouldn’t win. Seems pretty dumb to act the part of jealous idiot, like a certain dog I know, given I know a three-way relationship can work. Just look at Naomi and her men. I don’t see why we can’t enjoy the same thing. Don’t get me wrong, a part of me would love to strangle the dog and throw him off a cliff, but ultimately, it’s what you need that counts. I’m not saying we won’t have to make adjustments. But I’m willing. The bigger question is, can Mitchell cope?”

Remembering Mitchell’s rigid countenance, she sighed. “Not likely.”

“Don’t sound so negative, baby. Fate wouldn’t have picked us both if it didn’t think it would work. But I do think it will be easier if he’s already claimed you before I come back. Because no matter what he thinks or wants, I won’t go another day without making you mine.”

“You seem too sure I’m going to let you,” she teased even as she knew she would, probably the moment they tumbled naked into bed.

“You forget, I know your sweet spots.”

“I miss you,” she whispered, just as Mitchell came back in the room holding two cans of pop.

“Me too, baby. Tell Mitchell to kiss you for me, and be prepared for the real thing sometime tomorrow. Dream of me.”

“Bye.” She hung up, sad and missing Alejandro, who, despite his short tenure in her life, left his mark.

Crouching at the side of the bed, Mitchell deposited the cans on the nightstand and peered at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. He’s almost caught the guy and should be back tomorrow.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, other than he misses me and wants to mark me, pretty much. Oh, he did also say to kiss me for him,” she said saucily.

“Usually, I’d tell the cat where he can shove his orders, but this is one time I think I should do as he says,” Mitchell murmured. He tilted her face for a kiss, but she put a hand up and held him off.

“Are you sure you want to do this? He’s going to mark me when he gets back.”

“And?”

She growled. “Fine. Make me say it. What are your intentions toward me, Mitchell?”

“Can’t we just kiss?”

“And you talk about Jag being the seducer. At least he’s offering me a future.”

Clambering onto the bed first, nudging her in the process, Mitchell rolled onto his back and laced his hand behind his head. Then he let out a big sigh. “My intentions? Honestly? I don’t know, Red. A part of me wants you so fucking bad, it hurts.”

“So jerk one off in the shower.”

He tossed a glare her way. She grinned. “Not just that kind of pain, smart ass,” he grumbled. “And for your information I have, numerous times and it’s not working.”

“Oh.” She almost gulped at his roundabout admission that he cared. “So what’s the problem then?”

“You’re planning to let that cat mark you and become your mate.”

She wouldn’t lie, not for something this important. “Yes, I am. It doesn’t mean I don’t want you too. I still want you as much as I ever did, Mitchell.”

Another loud sigh emerged from him, deflating him so that he slumped. “And I’m realizing more and more that I want you as well, even if parts of me are still reconciling the new sexy you with the little girl I used to know. But, that part is getting easier and easier. What I don’t know is if I can share. The idea of a threesome… If we’re being honest, then I have to admit, it kind of wigs me out.”

Great, Mitchell finally admitted to caring for her-and that he found her hot, which totally rocked-and she was chasing him away because she’d fallen in love with a second man. Why couldn’t her love life have stayed simple?

She placed her hand on his thigh. “Nobody’s saying if you both claim me that we need to have three-way sex. Some ménages do, others don’t.”

“How the hell would you know about threesomes?”

A smile crossed her lips. “Naomi’s situation is not the first I’ve encountered. My aunt Belinda actually had three mates. My great grandma Josephine had a pair. You could say it kind of runs in the family. And while my mom used to cover my ears whenever my aunt decided to relate some particularly racy exploit, great grandma was very prim and proper despite her ménage marriage. My great grandpas each had their own rooms and from what I understood, took turns. Heck, they even had a calendar with a schedule, which I’ll admit I didn’t clue in to for years.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Maybe to some people, but it worked for them. And it could work for us. I would never make you do something you’re not comfortable with. If having you means only enjoying hot one-on-one sex with screaming orgasms, then I think I can manage.” She grinned at him. “Don’t you know? I’d do just about anything to have you as my mate?”

“Don’t remind me. I still shudder at the smell of watermelon bubblegum.”

She thumped a fist on thigh. “Jerk. Now is not the time to discuss how you crushed my childhood dreams.”

“And what are your adult ones?” he asked, grabbing her pummeling fist and enveloping it in his hand.

She stilled. “My fantasy, which I’ll admit has recently been upgraded, involves being mated to two wonderful, yet different men, who worship the ground I walk on, and do totally wicked things to my body.”

“What if I wanted to do nice things?”

“As long as you use your tongue and cock, I think I can manage.”

“Francine, that is vulgar.”

“Oh don’t be such a prude. Don’t forget, I used to spy on you when you were younger and you’ve said way worse than that.”

“You are so asking for a spanking,” he growled.

“Why Mitchell, I never knew you were into kink,” she replied, batting her eyes lashes.

He groaned and covered his face with his hands, muttering, “Why me?”

She giggled. “Oh admit it. Life with me would definitely never bore you.”

“No, but I can see sore knuckles and broken noses in my future if you insist on claiming that cat.”

“You’ll heal. Besides, think of the fun you’ll have when I kiss your booboo’s better.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Tapping her chin, she pretended to think. “Yes, yes I do. But you,” she said, fixing him with a stare, “have every excuse not to.”

“Fine. Let’s say I, um, did claim you. And the seducer did too. You really think we could make it work?” he asked, skepticism in his tone. “I don’t know if I could keep myself from killing the cat if I saw him touching you.”

“Which is why we could do it just like my great grandma did. Okay, that sounds so wrong and is not the mental image I want right now.”

Mitchell chuckled. “What, you don’t like thinking of your great grandpa chasing your squealing great grandma around the kitchen while your other grandpa watches, waiting his turn?”

A moue of distaste crossed her face. “It excites me as much as I’m sure the thought of your father doing your mother on the dining room table does.”

“They’ve never done that,” he adamantly replied.

She arched a brow. “Oh really? Tell that to the ass marks Naomi had to polish off the surface wearing rubber gloves.”

He blanched and she grinned triumphantly.

“Can we change the subject?”

“Sure. I believe we were talking about coming up with a schedule so that I could have both you and Alejandro in my life.”

“If I choose to mark you. I’m still on the fence.”

She jabbed her elbow in his gut and he grunted. “Stop lying or I’ll tell your mama and she’ll get the soap.”

“You really are annoying sometimes,” he grumbled.

“It’s part of my charm. Admit it. You enjoy it.”

“Will not.”

“Liar. Do you prefer Ivory or Irish Spring?”

“Fine. Fine. It’s kind of enjoyable. Happy now?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, beaming at him. “So, what do you think of my idea?”

“This is the most fucked up conversation ever. I assume you mean your suggestion of taking turns being with you? You’d go for that?”

“If it meant having you as well as Alejandro, then yes. I can compromise. I want you, Mitchell. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I never imagined, though, I’d have to share you, especially with another man.”

“Okay that sounds gross when you put it that way.”

She laughed. “You know what I mean. But it does depend on you. Alejandro will claim me when he returns.”

“If he returns.”

“When he returns,” she restated. “I guess the only question left is, will you claim me too?”

“I-” He paused. His brow knitted in confusion while his eyes spoke of longing. As for his cock. Oh yes, definite tenting action.

“You can say it,” she coaxed. “I won’t bite-hard-until you do.”

“I-”

A shriek sounded. “Naomi!” they both exclaimed, him with a note of relief. Mitchell helped her up and supported her as they made their way out of the bedroom to the living room where Naomi paced, ranting at the top of her lungs.

“Unfucking believable. How fucking dare she? That ho! That bloody, dirty skank. I’m going to rip-Oh, hey there, Francine. What are you doing up? You’re supposed to be in bed.”

Her possessed friend pasted a fake smile meant to look reassuring on her face, but rage glistened in her eyes. Francine, plopping onto the couch, careful not to lean back, would have none of it. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“I’m not wearing any. So nothing.”

“Eeew!” Mitchell exclaimed.

“Oh shut it, crotch sniffer,” his sister snarled. “No one’s talking to you.”

“Naomi, be nice!” Javier said in a firm tone. “It’s not his fault you’re upset. And besides, you know he’s going to go ballistic when he finds out. Won’t that be fun?”

“Find out what?” Mitchell asked, sitting on the arm of the couch beside Francine.

“That fucking skanky ho with the slutty-” Javier put his hand over Naomi’s mouth, silencing her, not quite managing to hide the wince when she bit him.

Ethan shook his head. “She’s a little upset.”

“Do you think?” Francine drawled, wondering what had Naomi in such a tizzy. Probably some groupie hitting on one of her mates again. This far in her pregnancy, with her hormones running wild, it didn’t take much for Naomi’s jealous green monster to come out swinging.

Javier, though, shot her theory to hell with his next words. “The hunter who shot Mitchell wasn’t the person who shot Francine.”

Ballistic didn’t even come close to describing Mitchell when he found out who had. Francine quite enjoyed seeing him all riled up. It pleased her inner bitch even more. However, the method of discovery, AKA her trashed apartment, pissed her right off. Someone’s head is going to roll.