If his goal was to make me purr, he was doing a good job of it. “As long as I can taunt you into roaring, you can resist however much you want, but I will get my roars.”
“I am known to roar when frustrated, when I need to establish that I am the most dominant of felines, and when I’m particularly satisfied. That is three ways you could coerce me into roaring for your enjoyment.”
“You? More dominant than me? I am a lynx, and lynxes are the most superior of cats. We have a monopoly on plush fur, my paws are bigger, and I am a fierce huntress.”
“We’re going to have to do a comparison of our paws, obviously. And our fur. And we’ll have to posture while doing so.” Sebastian stretched, and he did so in such a way his muscles flexed beneath his suit.
Meow. “Keep doing that. That makes you look rather strong. My mother would immediately understand why I might bring home a lion when she sees those muscles.”
If I wasn’t careful, I’d start purring without being able to use his roars to mask the sound.
“I see your mother enjoys brute strength. Which lions have.”
“My mother is half my father’s size, and the rougher he gets, the happier she is. We, that is the rest of my family, myself included, flee when she starts trying to bully my father into using his strength. It’s a lynx thing. We’re rowdy.”
“As lions are substantially stronger and larger than lynxes, I am sure I can appease your need to struggle. Lionesses enjoy a good struggle before being loved into submission. Lions are patient when it comes to subduing stubborn female felines. How does a lynx compare to a lioness? That is the question.”
“Lynxes are obviously superior. This shouldn’t even be up for debate.”
“If you appreciate being subdued, I am concerned about the fate of this truck.” Sebastian examined the cab, making thoughtful noises in his throat. “Perhaps we should handle that other business first, and then I will make appropriate accommodations so you can be properly subdued without damaging your daddy’s truck. I had not scheduled time for subduing a female feline today. I hope you can finish your work quickly, and I have decided that I am going to add additional punishments should you be scratched or bruised.”
I did not need any guidance from either of my parents to fully comprehend what the lion had in mind. “But will you roar, Sumners?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Five
We can fight over the body.
In addition to a paycheck, if everything went well, I would get a lion, and my virus wanted me to hurry up and get to the serious work of taming Sebastian Sumners. If my virus had her way, I would have pulled over, yanked him out of the truck, and secured him on the side of the road without a care in hell who witnessed me snapping and tearing him out of his suit and having my way with him.
Given ten more minutes, my virus would spike so hard I wouldn’t be able to see straight for a week.
I did not have a week to appease her or stake claims on the lion who tested me in all ways possible.
I parked the truck at the seamstress’s shop, wondering if I’d have to search for the asshole wolf who’d taken away a woman’s right to choose her mate and infected her with the virus against her will. With luck, the asshole would be present at the shop, which was one of his usual habits, or so claimed the bounty. “Steal-killing lions owe me extra nice steak,” I warned. “And compensation for stealing my kill. Good lions do not bother the lynx out for a kill. My call sign is Murder Mittens, not Distressed Damsel. Are we clear?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Should he bruise you and you do not immediately dispatch him, we can fight over the body after I educate him on the error of his ways. He won’t learn from his mistake, as he will be dead, but I will observe initially. I am a lazy lion, and if I can admire when a woman shows off her skills, I absolutely will.”
My virus wanted to drag him off somewhere and learn a lot of skills we’d been denied due to the scars on my face and the unforgiving nature of lycanthropy. A promise to indulge in the possibilities of a permanent partnership with the lion kept the wild side of me contained, and I got out of my daddy’s truck, grabbed my purse, and bounced into the shop.
According to the internet, the shop offered all things sewing and craft related, and the woman who owned it would work for a low rate of ten dollars an hour for her work for those who wanted beautiful things but didn’t want to make the beautiful things. I stepped through the door into yarn heaven.
Cats plus yarn equaled trouble, and I bet I could create a lot of trouble toying with the lion in the truck and some yarn. With wide eyes, I explored the collection, spotting a chunky black yarn that would look wonderful against the lovely tan of Sebastian’s skin.
Holy meow with some cream on the side and a fresh fish. I snatched a skein, and on second thought, I grabbed two more before checking the label and grabbing the correct sized crochet hook.
After sacrificing a little yarn for leashing my lion, I could make a small blanket.
Deeper in the store, I spotted the wolf from the bounty in the corner, sitting in a rocking chair while keeping a close eye on me. He held a tablet in one hand, and a laptop sat on an end table nearby. A shelf near him held a half-finished knitting project and a mug of coffee.
I bet the knitting belonged to the woman, who stood near her register, hard at work sorting through a box of plastic-wrapped yarn.
Sebastian came in, and he chuckled when he caught sight of my acquisitions. “Is that going to be enough yarn?”
I stopped, turned, and stared at him with wide eyes. “I’m really not sure.”
He glanced at the label before picking up a sky blue skein of the same line, reading over the label. “You need at least seven skeins if you want to make a blanket. If you use all black, your eyes will rot out of your head. If you really want to be a goth queen, they have enough black. But this blue would contrast nicely.”
In what universe did Sebastian know his way around yarn? I held the black against the blue, nodded as he had a good point on the color contrast, and asked, “Four of the blue and three of the black?”
“That would make a nice blanket, give your eyes a bit of a rest, and still challenge you with the black.” Sebastian tucked four skeins of the blue under his arm. “Are you knitting or crocheting?”
“I’m crocheting. I can knit, but I’m a lot slower at it. And I’m going to need to make some baby blankets. Four of them.”
“Well, this won’t work for that, but this will work for you. Do you have a travel bag?”
Wait. Travel bags? For yarn? People traveled with their crochet? My mouth dropped open, and I shook my head.
“You need a travel bag or the yarn will escape, messes will be made, and tears will be shed.” Sebastian headed for the counter, nodded to the woman we would be setting free within the next few minutes, and set the yarn down. “Someone in her family is expecting, and we’re on baby blanket duty. What’s the best yarn in the market right now for baby blankets? We’ll be crocheting them.”
The wolf in the corner tensed, but Sebastian’s comment put him more at ease. Interesting. The wolf didn’t trust his forced mate—and for good reason. But he didn’t distrust Sebastian as much as I thought he should.