Chapter 26

The next morning I awoke disoriented, but the ticking of the clocks were a dead giveaway I was at Monroe's. Memories came trickling back slowly. Usually I could remember everything after drinking, but last night was the most drunk I'd ever been. It seemed the longer I was in the car, the drunker I became. Monroe had to carry me in, I remembered that. He'd laid me on the couch, and the room moved about like I was on the teacup ride at Disneyland.

What kind of conversations did I have last night? I was very chatty, I remembered that, too. Oh, crap, and I talked to Monroe about mating rituals. Did I sing? Yes, I sang. Jack had called, didn't he? Jack thought Monroe was a werewolf. Double crap. And then there was Nick. Oh, hell! What was that all about? I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all.

The closest clock in Monroe's bedroom displayed eight-thirty.

Monroe was sleeping beside me. He opened one eye while I stirred about. "How are we feeling?" he asked as he stretched out.

"I'm good. But I'm just trying to remember last night." Of course it sounded more like 'gust tryin' to 'member last neight.'

He gave me a sleepy grin and a light chuckle. "You're so cute when you first wake up."

I scowled just as lightly back and cleared my throat. "You can take the girl out of the south, but you can't take the south out of the girl," I replied in my work voice.

"At least not first thing in the morning, huh?" Monroe jibed.

I smirked in his direction. "Something like that."

"No hangover?" he inquired and gave me a once over.

"I don't get hangovers," I said while sitting up in the bed. "How are you feeling? How's the cold?"

"I think it's pretty much gone. I've been drinking Echinacea tea, and that seems to have helped." He took in a deep breath through his nose. "Yeah, there's a squirrel in the tree by the window."

My eyes moved toward the bedroom window. A flicker of a squirrel's tail dashed around the tree followed by faint sounds of chattering. "Impressive."

"Eh." He shrugged.

"Don't you need to get a workout in?" I asked.

"Already did it." He smiled up at me. "I slipped back into bed afterwards to be with you."

I lay back down and nuzzled his bearded cheek then gave him a kiss. "Oh, crap!" I quickly jerked back, pressing my hand over my mouth. "I probably taste like twenty-year-old stale tequila," I exclaimed. "Let me go brush my teeth."

"No, it's fine." He leaned back in for another.

"Oh, no. I can't handle the taste myself." I blanched and shook my head. "Stay right here, and I'll be fresh and clean in no time!" I shot out of bed, grabbing my overnight bag as I went. "Stay," I told Monroe with a coy grin as I hovered near the bathroom door.

He rolled his eyes at me, threatening to throw a pillow in my direction. A quick brush later, I slid back into bed and onto Monroe's lips.

"This is nice," he said between kisses.

"Mm-hmm…" I murmured agreeably, wrapping my arms around his neck as I continued to enjoy his lips.

"I'm glad we're doing this. Umm, I mean, you know… the whole staying over thing."

"I'm sure this one wasn't as enjoyable," I said as I looked into those deep, kind brown eyes of his.

"Then you'd be mistaken," he muttered with a sly grin.

"I'm just sorry you had to come out to the trailer and cut your meeting short."

"You know I can't say no to a damsel in distress." That genuine smile of his formed under his beard. "Do you recall… Uhh… anything last night?" His brown eyes glanced downward.

"Not much, why?" I acted intrigued. I remembered more than I wanted to let on.

"No reason." He shook his head. "You must be hungry. What do you say to some breakfast?"

I squinted at him. "So, did I say anything imbecilic last night?"

"Not really." He chuckled softly, looking back up at me. "You sang a lot when we got here. Didn't know you enjoyed Herman's Hermits so much." There was a twinkle in his eye.

I'd sung a lot last night, but what the heck had I sung? I searched my mental music file cabinet for Herman's Hermits songs. "Did I sing 'Henry the Eighth?'" I asked and then groaned. "Oh, please say that was all."

"Not hardly." Monroe laughed. "That one you belted out a couple of times, the others you hummed and would giggle. Then you'd ask me if I knew the song. When I would say, 'yes,' you'd get real quiet." He laughed again as he got out of bed. That I didn't remember. Well, crap. More songs came to mind. Some mentioned love… a lot. "But then you sang..." He paused. "Let's just say you were really drunk, but I enjoyed the serenade."

"Funny thing about tequila; you drink it quickly and it hits hard later," I responded casually as I sat on the edge of the bed. Whatever I'd sung or hummed, he was still cuddling with me, so I must not have offended him. But anyone who would put up with my rendition of 'Henry the Eighth' deserved an award.

Monroe edged toward the bedroom door. "So, breakfast?"

"Sure."

"Good. Let's go downstairs."

"Let me get a shower first, and I'll meet you down there," I said. "I'll be quick."

"Okay, but don't take too long." He gave me a sly grin. "Or I might just have to join you."

I grinned back. "Plenty of water for two."

Monroe reached for the bedroom doorknob. "I'll be downstairs."

"I'll be here, all wet and naked," I teased as I slunk toward the bathroom.

Monroe's eyes flickered red. "Two showers in one day. At least I'll be clean." He chuckled as he let go of the doorknob and ushered me into the bathroom.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

We undressed quickly. Hot water enveloped us as Monroe kissed me deeply. His tongue was as heated as the water above us. Kisses trailed down to my neck to my shoulder. My skin tingled under his mouth as he pressed his lips against my skin.

"Turn," he breathed into my ear, and I pivoted around. Resuming from my shoulder, he lightly nibbled down my back, and I sighed heavily. He knew every spot like they were etched on a map in his mind. Monroe grabbed my vanilla body wash, pouring an ample amount into his hands. "I love how this smells," he whispered in my ear, nibbling my lobe lightly while he stood behind me." This is you. I smell this, and I know you're near."

As he rubbed a small amount of body wash onto my back, his strong hands massaged deeply, and it felt like heaven. Monroe rubbed his hands up toward to my shoulders, kissing my neck as he went. Sliding back down, he glided his hands forward to my breasts, cupping them completely. Slippery, soapy fingers slid across my nipples, and I gasped sharply. I managed to breathe, but my knees buckled in response to the motion of his fingers. I leaned into his strong chest, knowing full well he could support me, while his fingers continued to circle my breasts as I moaned.

"You like that, huh?"

"Yes." The word escaped my lips after my teeth let go of the bottom one. My breaths were keeping time with his fingers. Those incredibly gifted fingers.

Monroe's pleasure was growing as his hips brushed up against me. He stopped abruptly and pushed my back against the wall of the shower, pinning my wrists against the pale green bathroom tiles. I held my breath, anticipating his next move.

Monroe's eyes were on fire, dazzlingly bright and full of lust... the best color red. "All mine." As he uttered the words, my mind flashed back to the Blutbad mating rituals.

I wanted to be his, but were we ready for what the Grimm book had described? Oh, what did it matter? I loved him, whether I told him or not, I knew it was true. Like Nick had said last night, it was in my heart. My brain just needed to acknowledge that it was different this time. It would get there eventually. But for now…

Monroe's lips were back on mine, blindsiding my thoughts. He held me securely, squeezing my wrists as he kissed down my neck. Cool tiles pressed against my back, contrasting with the heat. I let out a soft sigh.

Monroe looked up at me. "Having another reckless moment?" he asked with a smirk. "I see that sparkle in your eyes."

"I'm just enjoying my shower." I grinned back at him.

"You know, as a Grimm you really shouldn't enjoy being captured by Wesen." His grip on my wrists tightened, and I bit my lip once more.

"Captured by Wesen? No. Captured by you? Absolutely." I loved his dominance. I couldn't help it.

Monroe growled and kissed me firmly on the lips. "I like that answer." He let my wrists go and reached for the bottle of body wash again. More soap was applied to his hands, and he worked the vanilla down the curve of my hips and further still, caressing my body as he went. Monroe took in a whiff, and he gave me that devilish grin of his. I hadn't seen that grin much since Kentucky. "Vanilla paired with your arousal. That's scent is just… delicious." Oh, he was feeling much better. His mouth was on mine again as soapy fingers slipped between my thighs.

My moans poured into his mouth. "Your fingers... are… delicious…" I gasped out between breaths.

"I'm going to play your body like my cello." The seductive words rolled off Monroe's tongue with a smooth flow that hitched my breath right up in my throat.

I'd finished that darn Fifty Shades of Grey book the day after we'd arrived back in Portland. The main character, Ana, had described her breath hitching every which way possible. I didn't understand what it even meant until now. At that moment my breath hitched, and boy, did it hitch something awful!

Monroe's eyes acknowledged my reaction at his words and they flashed like red lightning. He leaned in, resting his lips near my ear. "You and I are going to make beautiful music," he breathed, and with that, his fingers moved adeptly between my legs like he was playing a Bach concerto.

I was singing arias in no time. Bracing myself against the shower tiles, I tried to remain upright as he brought me to my crescendo. Monroe kissed me hard, halting my moans. My release burst forth in a grand forte as I had a standing ovation.

"See? Beautiful wasn't it?" he teased after letting my lips go.

"Heavenly." I managed to sigh while my head rested against the shower tiles. "A masterpiece, for sure." Between the heat of the water and the heat between me and Mr. Monroe, I was flushed all over.

"The masterpiece isn't complete yet." The devilish grin reemerged under Monroe's beard. "Turn," he said again, and I did as he asked.

The clicks of the bottle of body wash opening caught my ear, and this time he concentrated on my lower backside. My skin was tingling from moments before, and his touch sent my body trembling under his hands.

Monroe's full excitement pressed against my derriere. "Lean down," he said just as firmly as what he was pressing against me.

Planting my forearms against the tile, I angled myself downward as he cleansed my body. His fingers drew across my legs, then back up my inner thighs, teasing lightly between them, then up toward my hips. It was delightfully torturous.

"Please, take me," I moaned softly.

"You can't rush a masterpiece, Renée." Mr. Wolf awoke from his slumber. His taunts brushed against my ear as he emerged from his cage. God, he'd been locked up far too long.

Skilled hands inched up my back to my shoulders, the lather prickling each nerve ending as I purred from his touch. Monroe, err, Mr. Wolf ran his hands up my arms, rubbing methodically, then back down he went until I was writhing with anticipation. He reached around, applying small circles to my breasts, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I let out another moan and pressed back into him. "Your bow feels really good against my cello." I moaned out the words.

Mr. Wolf chuckled lightly. "Does it now?" That devilish grin was etched in his reply. "You think I oughta stroke the strings and see how that feels?"

"Oh, yes. Please," I begged. I needed stroking desperately.

I let out a gasp as he thrust into me. Mr. Wolf groaned, sliding back slowly at first, but then he quickly increased his speed. Eighth notes turned into sixteenth notes as his music played on inside me. He hands found their way back to my breasts, his fingers plucking at my nipples. Such talent in those fingers! In and out, the thrusts elicited more moans that I couldn't control, echoing inside the small bathroom. He cradled his body against me as he continued into a series of staccato notes. My hips rocked back and forth to his tempo, meeting him with perfect rhythm.

Mr. Wolf nipped my neck softly as his fingers wrapped around my arms, holding on tightly. "Mine?" He posed the question breathily into my ear, nipping my neck once more.

"Always."

He growled in response, increasing to a sudden sforzando, and the melody exploded as I cried out with fortissimo! I collapsed against the shower tiles as the weight of Monroe's body jutted me forward.

"You just became my favorite instrument," he mused, kissing the nape of my neck quickly.

"You play me so well." I sighed. "So very well."

"I'm sure we could fit in an encore later."

I grinned at the thought.

A/N: Monroe and Renée do enjoy their showers. (;