Page 71 of Seducing Sasquatch

I grin. “Then we can do whatever we want.”

“Like?”

“Like I get to fill that greedy hole of yours and fuck you senseless.”

Blake physically shivers at my words. His hips undulate in my lap, but I know I must do this first before I can take him again.

“Come on. This will be quick.” I help him to his feet despite his bratty whines. Taking Blake’s hand, I lead him through the cabin and the front door. Taking my jacket off the hook and helping him into it, I pull open the front door.

The snow is still disturbed from this morning, but I can smell the faint bitterness of another storm on the way.

“What are those?” Blake points to the pile of white feathers at the foot of the stairs.

“Ptarmigan,” I reply. “A bird that’s great for eating.”

Blake eyes them closely, and he winces when he notices their necks are broken. “You hunted four of them? For me?”

I nod. “This is tradition. The morning after our mating, I must provide you with food. Food I’ve caught with my bare hands.”

His mouth opens in a gawk. “You caught these with your bare hands? No gun?”

I take his hand and lead him to the edge of the patio, knowing his feet will get cold in the show without his boots.

“Would you like to see how I prepare them?” I ask. Usually this task is done together. But I don’t want to push Blake too fast into this world. Living in a cabin in the woods is one thing, but gutting fresh kill is another.

“Okay,” Blake whispers. “But if I feel sick I’m going inside.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “You can just watch, baby. I’ll make it quick.”

And I do. Plucking them is a fairly easy process. I get Blake to find me the knife I need from the kitchen and show him where I make the incisions.

Despite his doubt, Blake leans over the stairs with a look of utter bewilderment. His questions range from simple to insane. Like where they live and what they eat, to whether they have multiple stomachs and why they have feathers up their noses. By the time I’m done, the snow is colored red, and my smile hasn’t once left my lips.

“So they turn brown in summer?” Blake clarifies.

I turn to the forest and throw the guts into the trees. “They do.”

“I’ll remember that.”

I collect the meat and climb up the steps with Blake close on my heels. “And they swallow pebbles to grind food in their gizzards.”

“Oh.”

This boy has become someone new. Maybe losing his father wasn’t as much a bad thing as I thought. Blake bounces on his heels, clearly enjoying this new information. I keep an eye on him as I place a pot on the stove. Finding the last few vegetables in the bottom of my fridge, I quickly put together a stew.

Blake talks behind me from the other end of the counter, his voice peaked with excitement, but I can see with each look over my shoulder how tired he is. The bags under his eyes have grown since he woke up, and his shoulders are back to being slumped.

“What are you looking at?” he asks, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

I smile at him, turning back to cutting the carrots and onion. The pot beside me bubbles away as it’s brought to a boil.

“Just looking at you, baby.”

“Me?”

I drop the vegetables into the pot, dicing the meat and setting it to the side. It won’t take long for the broth to be ready.

Throwing the dish towel over my shoulder and washing my hands, my eyes find his. “You’ve had a big day. How about a movie and then bed?”