Page 30 of Falling for the Orc All-Star

King is so smooth. Except for that gorgeous hair.

The fact that you think of him like that, like a rescue—maybeyou’rethe one who needs some help.

“Am I just as messed up? Am I missing another kind of compassion?” I ask.

Chip and Daisy plant their paws on my knees in unison, demanding more scritches while giving me their excessively furry comfort. “Or maybe I just don’t want to believe that the weird ‘feel-good fairy tale romance’ can happen to me. It’d be easier if it didn’t.”

But my heart and my hips aren’t sure they want to settle for easy anymore.

Stairs with a full bladder and crutches are a level ten difficulty, but stairs with a raging hard-on, crutches, painkillers, and two glasses of wine are damn near impossible.

I make it to my bed and collapse with a grateful groan. The ache in my cock distracts me from the ache in my knee, at least for the moment.

Heroic acts, Ultarn the Prolific says. Prove to your mate that you are worthy of winning her.

I didn’t touch the enormous, soft, perfect curves that were pressed up against me. I whimper as I wrap my fist around my swollen, flushed cock, wincing at how hot my skin is.

Does denying myself count as heroic? Not that I’m denying myself now, of course. My hand moves furiously as I picture her without the jeans, without the shirt, just soft, voluptuous thighs, breasts for me to get lost in, hips to grip as I slide home and seal her pussy with my knot.

She smells so divine, and tastes even better than she smells. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be underneath her, lost in her as she pounds down on me, hips smashing to mine. And when I’m better... Bending her over this bed, standing behind her, and watching every inch of my long, thick cock disappear into her.

I shoot hard and fast, abs curled into a crescent with the sudden force of my release.

Damn it. Now I have to get cleaned up. Showering has been tricky, to say the least.

Down to one good leg—and it’s too rubbery to hold me up just now.

I’m in lust—and for the first time in my life, I’m kind of upset about it. Lust was always enough. Quick, hard pleasure was always enough. Now? I want so much more.

With a shock, I realize that I’m just as happy thinking about meeting Ingrid’s dogs tomorrow as I am thinking about her body and how she’d look in my bed. Hoping they like me. Can I get the pet store to deliver before my appointment? Because I want to get them treats. I want them to like me.

I want her to like me.

I want her to do more than justlikeme.

I think I’m in love.

“Lemon balm mojo and all that good dinner must’ve helped. Your knees are both the same size today. That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to go putting weight on it. This is a grade three tear, all right? Now that the swelling is down, I think we’ll look at an immobilizer in the fully locked position, and then move to a hinged knee brace. That’s my opinion on the best course of action. When do you see the team doctor again?”

“Uh. Friday,” I say, looking past Kev.

My appointment started on time, with no paperwork, no sparring with Ingrid. No Ingrid at all. No dogs. Did I scare her off? Should I ask Kevin for her number?

“What happened after we left?” Kev asks.

“Huh?”

“Ingrid came in with her iced coffee and a sly little smirk that confused me. Never seen it before.”

“Smirk? That’s almost a smile.” I sound like someone handed me a winning lottery ticket. I don’t even notice when Kev brings out an ugly gray thing that looks like something from the Terminator’s closet.

“Dude. You have it so bad. You barely know her.”

“Orcs are different!” I say stubbornly. “When we know, we know. But she’s not an Orc, so... Hey, look. Do you think Chip and Daisy will like these?” I reach over to my Lumberjack’s official sports duffle and start pulling out things I had delivered from Pet Village, the local pet shop. “I got beef treats, peanut butter and bacon, and liver and sausage. I got a tug of war rope, and this—look, you put it on the floor and it goes by itself. They have to chase it. Oh, and this is a foraging mat! You hide treats in these little compartments,” I pull the last object out of the bag, unfolding the sturdy mat with springy green, yellow, and pink patches. “It kind of looks like a meadow. Or garden. I hope Ingrid won’t think I’m encouraging them to dig upher lawn. It says it’s good for dogs who get bored or spend time on their own, and if I want to take Ingrid out...”

Kev’s hands land on my shoulders, and I stop with a jerk. “Huh?”

“Cool it. You’re moving too fast. Ladies call it love bombing.”