Page 112 of Dark Fey Captive

“How many women does he want?” Lettie asked.

“And how often do you have to have sex with him for all these supplies?” Rita asked, making Tori’s face flame. “We need dimensions too. I’m not trying to get personal. I’m trying to figure out if my hip could survive volunteering.”

“I think you’d need to worry about more than your hip with the girth he’s carrying,” Gwen said dryly.

I held up my hands to stop any more questions.

“First, he’s not interested in more women. Second, I’m not trading sex for anything. I’d misunderstood him when I said that to Lettie and Gwen.”

“So you’re not having sex with him?” Rita asked, sounding mildly disappointed.

I sighed, knowing they wouldn’t let up until they had an answer.

“Yes. We’re having sex. No, it’s not because I want something from him. No, he is not the carrier for infection. Actually, he’s immune to it. So they don’t have to worry about being bitten. Yes, he does behead infected, but only infected. Yes, he is a bit larger than average. No, I’m not giving you dimensions. Yes, there are more houses open in that fenced-in area. No, they don’t all have heat and electricity.”

“But they can,” Nav said, stepping into the hut and causing Lettie to scream.

Gwen wrapped an arm around her shoulders, her gaze locking on Nav’s shorts. Specifically the size of the much-discussed appendage currently trapped against his thigh.

How could he possibly have enough blood in him for it to be semi-hard already?

“Are you hungry?” I asked, standing with my bowl.

His gaze swept over all the faces.

“Are there no males here?” he asked.

“There are,” Gwen said. “They’re patrolling the shoreline right now to make sure we weren’t followed.”

Nav grunted and came to stand by me. Everyone watched as he kissed my forehead and looked at my soup. I saw the aversion in his gaze.

“You don’t have to have this,” I said. “There’s fresh fish if you’d like that.”

“There’s always fresh fish,” Rita said.

Tori glanced at her mom, likely trying to decide whether she was hinting at what we all thought she was hinting at, or bragging because she did, in fact, catch something almost every day.

“Fresh fish is good,” Nav said.

Tori went to get it from the cold space outside.

I tugged Nav’s pinky to get his attention. His expression softened when he looked at me. I patted the bench beside me. It dipped a little under his weight.

“Damn,” someone whispered too softly to know who said it.

But Nav heard. His gaze flicked to his captive audience, and his ears started to darken.

Understanding that he was embarrassed by the attention, my heart melted a little, and I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Aren’t you cold?” Gwen asked him.

“No.”

“Are you grey all over?” Rita asked.

“Mom!” Tori scolded, coming back in with a chunk of fish.

Rita shrugged and stood. “I’ll cook it.”