Page 26 of Chomp's Challenge

She pops a few cubes of ice in a big glass and sets it aside, then twists the cap on the 2-Liter. Neither of us expect it to hiss and then pop, spraying sugary soda on her, the counter, and the floor. Shit!

I drop my food on the counter and rush toward her, snatching the bottle before it can do more damage. “Well, fuck. You okay?”

She’s not looking at me and I think she’s upset until Ariel’s shoulders start shaking and finally a loud laugh bubbles up her throat and out of her mouth. It’s not just a little chuckle. No, she’s nearly hysterical, chortling to the point that tears are leaking from her eyes.

It’s too adorable.

I can’t hold back my humor either, shaking my head as I pour my drink, twist on the cap, and set it aside. Then I reach for a few paper towels and wet them, handing them over with a smirk. I’ve got more in my hand in case she needs help. It appears she does. “You’re sticky, baby.”

The endearment slipped out faster than I can think about it, but Ariel just smiles. Her lips twitch like she’s holding back more laughter as I dab at her arms and mop up some of the root beer. Her shirt is soaked and clinging to her chest and stomach. It’s fucking amazing that I don’t stare for long at the cleavage I can see underneath. Is she wearing a pushup bra?

Fuck.

“Chomp.”

“Yeah?”

“I can handle the rest on my own.”

I nod, realizing that I’m brushing her cheek with a wet paper towel and it’s leaving residue on her skin. Oops. “Right.” I drop my hand and toss the soaked paper in the trash. “Why don’t you clean up and I’ll bring the food into your room?”

“Good idea. Thanks.”

“Sure. What do you want to drink?”

“I like Sprite. I’ll have that.”

Noted. My gator is mentally adding all her preferences and assuring we won’t ever forget.

When she walks away, I don’t watch. Okay, not for long. I definitely don’t think about those wide, childbearing hips and her sexy walk. Or that luscious ass. Or . . .okay, I watched until she left my sight. I blame my gator. He’s a fucking pain in the ass.

As soon as I’m alone, I clean up the mess and pour her drink before bringing it all into her room. I note the plants from her old place, the new bed and all the things she’s arranged to make it her own. It’s warm and inviting and I feel peaceful as I enter her space. This is where my mate will heal, and I’ll support her during every step of the process until she’s ready and we can continue our story.

But we stay close, my gator insists like I don’t know how obsessive he’s become with her.

When Ariel walks out of the connected bathroom, I feel my jaw drop. She’s wearing a thin white shirt and pajama shorts. The first thing I notice is that she’s cold. Her nipples are poking through the material, and I force my gaze away, sliding lower until I stiffen. It’s not the arousing tease of her breasts this time, but rather the scars I can see on her legs. Long marks that look like someone cut her and they didn’t heal right. Right now, I’m wishing I didn’t kill that fucker so quickly because he deserved to be treated the way that he treated her.

Fuck. I’m going to lose it.

We can’t do that to our mate, my gator hisses. She survived what was meant to end her, Chomp!

My head snaps up and we lock eyes. I’m breathing fast, awaiting her reaction because she’s staring at me, assessing what I’ll say and do. I can’t fuck this up. The rage simmering in my body is almost impossible to master, but I do it for her. She’s testing me. It’s not for malicious reasons. I think it’s because she wants to know that she can share anything with me, and I won’t react like a fucking madman. Or a monster.

I blow out a breath and hold her gaze, then nod. “Got you all set up. What movie genre do you want to watch? Anything specific in mind?”

She smiles. It’s sad around the edges because of what she endured, but it’s also hopeful. That little bit of light in her eyes brightens. It’s not intense. It doesn’t have to be for me to know that I gave her something she needed. Acceptance.

“Action and adventure. Something fun and not too serious.”

I got you, baby. I want to tell her that aloud, but I think she gets it.

We pick a film and then settle on her bed. We’re both leaning against the headboard, munching on our food. She’s so close I can feel the heat of her skin ghosting my arm every time she takes a bite or drink from her Sprite. It’s a torture I never experienced before now. Denial can be a powerful aphrodisiac.

We finish our food and I take the plates to the kitchen, placing them in the sink before I return. Somewhere around an hour in, her eyelids begin to droop. She’s slowly growing sleepy. I don’t say anything and instead, watch over her, content to ensure she’s getting the rest she needs.

It’s when her body connects with mine that I say fuck it and slip my arm around her, holding her close against me because I don’t know when I’ll get another chance. I didn’t think I was the affectionate type. Before Ariel, I didn’t linger with a woman in my bed. There was only one purpose. Afterward, we parted ways.

But with my mate? I find that every little touch, every exhale of her sweet breath, and each whisper of her skin that connects with mine is intoxicating and I want more.

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