Page 41 of Bride of Choice

Jerking my gaze back to him, I blinked at that, lips parting as I stared up at him in astonishment. Was he- Had he just- No, he didn’t. He looked as startled as I felt as a garbled noise left him, one thick mitt clapping to his chest, and he forced that shit back, hard.

I supposed it was a good thing he was dead set on suppressing any and all happy thoughts associated with me and possibly nakedness of any kind because I’d already sworn off all males this year. One more pain in the tuchus with love you, hate you issues was not needed.

“Right, well-”

“Krampusnauchtt,” he growled out, but then froze, the sound cutting off, as a noise issued from somewhere outside. His dark eyes narrowed and the pale, thick hair along his shoulders and neck rose.

“Uhm…” Not sure what to do about that, I let go of his arm and would have stood back but he flipped my grip, grabbing my arm to drag me bodily from my place and right out into the freezing butt cold.

“Are you mad?!” I squawked, struggling to free myself from his iron grip and keep up with him without intentionally injuring some other part of my person. “What the fuuuu-” I didn’t finish that sentence, too busy staring stupidly at three grey furred looking demon beasts roaming along the water’s edge across the river restlessly, softly snarling all the while. They didn’t cross it but growled at the river. The fact that they seemed to fear the swiftly rushing water was comforting.

“What- Uhm, what do they want?” I whispered as he ushered me off to the side of my hut, angling me so I was behind him, to just whip his willy out of its furry cock-coon, as I jokingly called their furry foreskins, and start to urinate in a clean line around my door and the sidewall of my hut, then, dragging me along behind him, down around my garden.

His snapped words in his native tongue told me he wanted me to follow him— at least, that’s how I’d taken it, hightailing it after him as he left his magic mark all over my place.

By the time he was done painting my house in, well, wee, he’d covered the entire perimeter.

Needing some levity, I joked in a singsong akin to a Christmas tune, “Just how much does one snow beast bladder hold?”

“We go,” he rumbled out, ignoring my indignant huff as my pretend promising musical comedy career went up in abominable flames.

“Everyone’s a critic,” I muttered as I did what the big guy said, lest I wished to be dragged elsewhere. “Oi, biggun, where are we going? I- Where are you taking me? I can’t exactly run, if you haven’t noticed.” When he didn’t answer, I flung an arm, dry caked mud flicking about me in my wake. “Dried out mud monster here. In need of bathing!”

Growl-grr-ing out his name, he informed me shortly in broken English, “Wash.”

“I’m sorry but dude who said he wouldn’t even pretend to be my Yetified boy toy to help a gal out says what?!” I spluttered, flustered. My cheeks pinkened and my heels dug in. Not after that weird, I might like to see ya naked rumble he’d let out back at my place. I don’t think so, Mr. Super Cold suddenly gone lukewarm. What the feckin’ hells was up with that, huh?

Snow started to pile up around my boots as I was dragged along quite literally. I tripped a few times but the beast’s momentum remained. “Hey!” I barked, slapping at his hand. “I ain’t gettin’ nekkid with you! No one will be washin’ no booty- I mean BODY! Nobody will be washing anybody! Comprende? You feel me?” On second thought, so there was no confusion, I corrected, “Scratch that! There will be no feeling of anything!”

Bum-bum paused, brow furrowing in confusion, and blink-blinked, staring straight ahead, like his brain had just hit pause. When he finally looked at me I noted his pupils were looking blown the fuck out, not a trace of a peek of color to them. Chest huffing and puffing, nostrils flexing, grip tightening and loosening, I could see him struggling to collect himself. Did they fight some beastly half of themselves? The Neanderthal within come-a-callin’? Slowly, peeks of color filled his irises, deep, dark maroon, that full blown, pupils blown black starting to fade. When he next spoke he was garbling his words out in rushed Lo denaii.

Alright, so maybe he wasn’t totally recollected yet. Not entirely.

He sounded full of what the fuck, which was all fine and dandy with me because that made two of us!

His momentary confusion came in handy, allowing me to slip free from his firm grip on my arm as it grew slack. Jerking out of his hold, rushing off to put some space between us, my hands shot up when he would have come storming after me.

Ignoring the way my fingers shook for reasons we weren’t going to reason out, that baked in mud clinging to me cracking to crumble and fall away sending dirt dust sprinkling around me a lovely backdrop for this bullshit, I barked, “Hey! Hey, now! What’s the big idea?! You’re going to start telling me what’s what or the Joanster ain’t goin’ anywhere, see?! I dunno about you but I don’t take kindly to someone thinking they can just wake up on the wrong side of the stuffed straw mattress, and suddenly try to tell me what the fuck to do! I am the master of ME. Nobody else, see!”

Wondering absently if that sounded too cartoon, mock gangster or as stern and take no bullshit as I was going for, Bum-bum did not seem to give a fig if I meant business or not. That’s right, see! Hear that, see? See! See?! Sí, I see.

I’m off my damn nut. It’s finally actually happened. I’ve switched to full blown conversations with myself in my head.

The growl he let loose, the way his eyes flashed, was he for real right now, getting all offended I got away? Was he freaking serious?!

“I’m- I’m-” Good lord, the way he was looking at me as he came up on me, all I might maybe wanna eat you or hell, girl, maybe I wanna eat you out, had the hormones racing as much as my heart.

You’re so broken, Joanie, you fucking freak.

“No. Bad Joanie.” Cursing under my breath, I slowly backed up as he hunched, the fur on his shoulders looking like it was standing finger-in-a-light-socket, rubbed all over a balloon straight the fuck up, something in his eyes flashed and then they darkened. Was that what was wrong with Gopher? He got all Yeti Neanderthal? All I knew was that Bum-bum was suddenly acting funny as shit with me and I’d be damned if I was going to stick around and find out what the hell that meant for me.

Realizing quickly that if he got ahold of me again that was it, I was too stupid to live in the make my hoo-ha jump and the cunt screeched, how high! goner kinda deal department— I’d be down to clown with this fool, same like my ass was with Gopher, my shameless hussy ass admitted, thinking of Snow Patrol in my own demented, selfish, greedy way, much as I selfishly had with Gopher, secretly as mine in a weird he’s mine but not, and nobody touch him kinda deal— this so was not gonna end well.

It never did for me. Not with Mystery Mate, not with Fuck N Run, not with Rek, and not with Gopher. Fuck me. No, don’t fuck me!

“Keep away from me!” I shouted over my shoulder as I gave up trying to cajole him into staying the fuck over there while I slowly backed away all the way over here, and spun around to run like hell.

Was something in the water? Were my hormones that outta whack I was just horndogging it for anything? Were theirs? Did this Krampus’ hunting season affect everyone around these here parts? Maybe even including me and my parts?

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