Page 11 of Rescued By the Surly Sasquatch

She heard the forest cry out, a clap of thunder and jagged bolt of lightening shook all around them. As the last spasms of pleasure subsided, Chase pulled out, leaving Betsy feeling the wetness between her legs. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her face flushed.

Chase's eyes were fixed on her, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Drink," he said simply, handing her a waterskin from the bedside table. She drank it gratefully, feeling the cool liquid flow down her throat.

"I'm yours," he said simply, his eyes never leaving hers. "You are my mate."

Betsy felt something stir in her chest, something she couldn't quite name. But she knew it was a feeling she had been missing all her life. She had so many questions, though.

Chapter 6

Betsy

Betsy rested on the comfortable bed and looked around Chase’s cozy den. For being inside a cave, it was remarkably modern, albeit oversized. Her body hummed with a satisfaction so deep it bordered on the ridiculous. Every muscle felt like it had been replaced with warm honey, and her skin tingled pleasantly where it pressed against Chase's fur.

"Well," she thought, staring up at the crystalline ceiling of Chase's den, "that's one way to get your cardio in."

The absurdity of her situation hit her like a ton of bricks wrapped in velvet. Here she was, naked as the day she was born, cuddled up to a creature that was supposed to exist only in blurry photographs and campfire stories. She'd just had the most mind-blowing sex of her life with a sasquatch.

A sasquatch.

A giggle bubbled up in her throat, threatening to erupt into full-blown hysterical laughter. Betsy bit her lip, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. After all, it wouldn't do to hurt the feelings of the eight-foot-tall monster currently using her as a tiny, human-shaped teddy bear.

Chase stirred beside her, his massive arm tightening around her waist. "What amuses you, little one?" he rumbled, his voice vibrating through her entire body.

Betsy turned to look at him, taking in the wild tangle of his fur, the intelligent gleam in his dark eyes. How did one even begin to explain the sheer insanity of this situation?

"Oh, you know," she said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere in the vicinity of mildly unhinged, "just thinking about how I'm going to update my dating profile. 'Likes long walks in the forest, herbal tea, and getting freaky with mythical creatures.' That should get me some interesting matches."

Chase's brow furrowed in confusion. "Dating... profile?"

And just like that, reality came crashing back in. Betsy sat up, suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness and the vast gulf of understanding between them. She was in way, way over her head.

"Okay, big guy," she said, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I think it's time we had a little chat. You know, the kind that usually happens before the earth-shattering, possibly life-altering sex?"

Chase sat up as well, his massive form dwarfing her. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The tender gesture made Betsy's heart do a little flip, which only added to her growing sense of panic.

"What do you wish to know?" he asked, his tone serious.

Betsy laughed, a slightly manic edge to the sound. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe we could start with the basics? Like, what's your favorite color? Do you prefer smooth or crunchy peanut butter? Oh, and tiny detail—what the heck does being your 'mate' actually mean?"

Chase's expression remained impassive, but Betsy could swear she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Green," he said solemnly. "I do not know what peanut butter is. And being my mate means we are bonded for life, two halves of a whole, united in body and spirit for all eternity."

Betsy blinked. "Right. So, no pressure or anything."

She stood up, pacing the small confines of the den. Her mind raced, trying to process the magnitude of what had just happened. She'd come to the forest to become an herbalist, tofollow in her grandmother's footsteps. Nowhere in that plan had there been a footnote about shacking up with Sasquatch.

"Chase," she said, turning to face him. "I need you to understand something. Where I come from, people don't just meet and instantly become 'bonded for life.' We have this whole process. We go on dates, we get to know each other. We argue about whose turn it is to do the dishes and whether pineapple belongs on pizza."

Chase tilted his head, a gesture so adorably confused that Betsy just wanted to snuggle back in his arms. “You wish to... date?" he asked, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

"Yes! No. I don't know!" Betsy threw her hands up in exasperation. "I just... I need to know more about you. About this whole situation. I mean, are there more of you out there? Is there a whole secret Sasquatch society I don't know about?"

Chase's expression closed off, his jaw setting in a stubborn line. "I cannot speak of my kind to outsiders," he said firmly.

Betsy felt a flare of irritation. "Outsiders? In case you missed it, big guy, we just did the horizontal tango. I think we're a little past 'outsider' status, don't you?"

She could see Chase struggling to find the right words, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It is complicated," he finally said.

Betsy snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. Look, how about we start with something simpler? Tell me about you. What do you do all day when you're not sweeping unsuspecting women off their feet and into your love den?"

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