The Customer's Always Right...

As Anon dusted the shelves of his office, an office he only had because it made him feel like a legitimate business owner, the sound of the desk bell caught his ear. “One second!”

He could scarcely believe the strange, almost unbelievable twists and turns his life had taken, ranging from being flung from Earth to a world of magical, talking ponies to his lecherous adventures across the lands, yet he’d finally hit his stride. After striking a somewhat questionable deal with a demigod of chaos, his life had taken a turn for the better. Being given a considerably sizable house had been great, but converting it into a bed-and-breakfast had been where the real fun began.

As strange as it may have sounded, he loved everything about Equestria. The denizens of the land were almost all cheerful, there was honest to goodness sorcery everywhere, and the taxes were dirt-cheap - all in all, it was an amazing place to live and he wouldn’t give it up for the world. Straightening up a stack of receipts, the whopping twenty he’d accumulated since opening his cozy little inn, he smiled to himself.

Ding-ding-ding

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he groused, walking out of his office.

As unfortunate as it was, if he had to guess, someone was just popping in to say hello or possibly the mailmare popping in with a letter - still, though it wasn’t like business was exactly booming, he was pretty damn content. Between renting out rooms every so often, taking odd jobs around town, and being thrifty with his spending, he managed to get by without much trouble. His only real complaint, if he had to name one, was that he hadn’t had much luck with romantic endeavors.

Sighing and shaking his head, telling himself he’d find his special somepony someday, he rounded a corner and into the living room turned lobby. “Welcome to Bed, Bath, and Beyond Equestria, how can I -”

“Ahem -” a voice loudly and quite sternly cut him off, causing him to lift his head and peek out at whoever had stepped into his little inn.

Spying a none-too-pleased looking mare leering at him, he slowed to a halt by the front counter. “How can I help -”

“I’d like your finest room for the week,” the mare interrupted.

Forcing a smile, he politely clasped his hands in front of his chest. “Ma’am, we only have three rooms here and, as far as I’m concerned, they’re all equally comfortable,” he smoothly replied, plucking a clipboard from the counter. “Your name?”

She lifted a brow, nonplussed, and stared up at him. “Harshwhinny - Ms. Harshwhinny. I presume you’re Anon.”

Her glib assertion was more of a statement than a question, yet he nodded all the same. “That’s me, the only human in Equestria - well I’m pretty sure I’m the only human in Equestria.”

It only took him a second to realize she wasn’t a local, yet that didn’t explain who she was and why she was so rude. Her indigo blazer and blouse,commanding tone, and lack of patience led him to believe he was dealing with some sort of hot-shot official or possibly politician - nevertheless, business was business. Slowly jotting down her name and pretending to scribble down notes, hoping to learn more about his ill-humored visitor, he glanced over at her.

Aside from her attire, she seemed to be a fairly average pony - a little on the older side, with bags under her eyes, crows feet, and carrying a bit of weight, but average nonetheless. Staring at him with piercing blue eyes, contrasted against her tanned coat and blonde mane and tail, she knit her brow. Though he’d caught her name, he was left to guess what had brought her to his inn.

“I’m guessing you’re here on business?” he inquired.

Rolling her eyes, the mare remained motionless. “Not like it’s any of your business, but yes; Rainbow Dash asked that I come and lecture at the School of Friendship. So where will I be staying in this hovel? After suffering through that train ride from Canterlot, I’d like to relax for a bit.”

“Room three,” he responded, offering her a key. “It’s upstairs and -”

“What are you doing?” she pressed, squinting at his hand.

Anon scrunched his nose, as his smile wavered. “I’m - uh - giving you your key?”

“Do you expect me to carry my luggage to my room?” she huffed.

It took everything he had not to give a pithy reply, but he managed to keep his mouth shut. Truth be told, he really didn’t need to lose any business or risk making a bad name for himself, especially if his guest was some sort of hot shot official from the capital. Walking around the counter and to her side, he stashed the key in his pocket and looked for her effects.

“They’re on your doorstep,” she noted, deciphering what he was looking for. “I’ll wait here while you fetch them, then you can show me to my room.”

Giving a terse nod, he stepped to the exit, opened the door, and found her belongings. Mercifully, she hadn’t brought that much with her, being only a single suitcase and a rolling tote, but that did little to improve his mood. While she may not have been a spring chicken, she looked young and healthy enough to ferry her things along without needing his help. Grabbing up her luggage in one hand, he turned and motioned to a doorway at the side of the lobby.

“By all means, lead the way,” she coolly intoned, watching him lumber to the stairwell.

As he trudged up to the second floor, his smile faded. A part of him had understood it would only be a matter of time until he got a difficult customer, yet he’d foolishly thought he’d be able to avoid any troublesome visitors until well into the future - that said, he wasn’t going to let her ruin his spirits. A few extra bits in his account would be nice, he’d only have to deal with her for a couple of days, and there was a chance that she was just cranky from a long, possibly unpleasant trip.

Reassuring himself that everything was going to be alright, cresting the stairs and crossing down a short hallway, he pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked her door, and loped into her room. “Here we are!”

As he sat her luggage down, she trotted in behind him and inspected the chamber. Like the other two suites he offered, the room came with a single dresser, a bed, a chair, and a nightstand with a lamp. While it was a relatively simple arrangement, he’d made sure that the accommodations included a private bathroom and at least one window to enjoy a view of Ponyville and the street below.

“It may not be the Ritz, but I think you’ll like it,” he smugly remarked, dusting his hands and turning to face her.

“Hmmph -” she harrumphed, craning her head to peer up at him. “And what amenities do you afford?”

Her question took him off guard, leaving him scratching his head. “I mean, you’re free to come downstairs in the mornings for a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal.”

Locking eyes with him, she petulantly stomped a hoof. “I will not be served cold, likely sugary cereal for breakfast! Honestly, I can’t believe I took Twilight’s advice and came here!”

“Just hang on a second,” he groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen, it’s not like I run a big operation here. How about you tell me what you were expecting ~ alright?”

“I was expecting a tour of your establishment, hot breakfasts brought to my room, and…” she trailed off, causing him to peek down at her, “never mind. I’ll deal with it later.”

More than happy to let the matter lie, yet curious about what she’d been about to say, he gave a small shrug. “I’ll let you settle in then. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs in my office or my room.”

“Noted,” she grumbled, stomping over to one of her bags.

Anon saw himself out and closed the door, leaving her to testily unpack for the night. Given she’d likely been on a train for the better part of the day, and that it was quickly approaching dinner time, giving her some space may improve her mood - he hoped. After returning to his office and hopping back into his seat, he pulled a comic from his desk, propped his feet up, and got comfortable. Even if she did end up being a sourpuss for her stay, at least he was getting paid to put up with her.

Much to his pleasant surprise, the remainder of his evening went by extremely smoothly. He saw neither hide nor hair of his guest, which wasn’t that uncommon, as the hour grew late. One of the best parts about running an inn was, barring the rare accident, he essentially got bits to sit on his ass and clean rooms after visitors left. With the sun having long since set, he flipped the Open sign to Closed and retired for the night.

After wolfing down some leftovers taking a shower, he crawled into bed and almost immediately passed out. As with most evenings, he left the front door of the shop unlocked; since Ponyville really didn’t have any issues with crime, and because he did occasionally have a visitor show up for a room, so he wasn’t worried about leaving his business open. Damned if he knew how long he slept for, but the sensation of something crawling onto his bed made him bolt upright and nearly shit himself.

“You were supposed to come to my room and service me!” Harshwhinny tutted, standing over his thighs.

Though she’d forsaken her clothing, her biting tone and piercing gaze were unmistakable. Doing his best to make sense of the situation, he rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. “Excuse me?”

Unblinking, she stared dead at him. “Service my needs,” she cryptically clarified. “Please tell me that your establishment isn’t completely worthless…”

His eyes widened and he stiffened in disbelief, grappling with what he’d just heard. Though she’d been as clear as day, that didn’t tell him what sort of service she was wanting. As he tried and failed to figure out what was going on and why she’d interrupted his slumber, an insidious notion took root. Maybe his perversions were getting the better of him, misinterpreting what she’d meant by needs, but the odd circumstances led him to believe she was after something more than fresh linens. Trying not to leap to conclusions, he reached over and flicked on his bedside lamp.

“When you say needs,” he began, “what exactly are you talking about?”

“What do you think it means, you imbecile?” she blared, wheeling around and shamelessly presenting her hind end. “Between my stubborn tail staying flagged, the leaking, and the scent, I thought that even a buffoon would have been able to figure out I was in heat!”

The mention of needs and her unexpected appearance in his room had piqued his curiosity, but the unabashed sight of her winking, openly drooling marehood left him reeling. While he was well aware of what estrus was, the reproductive cycle mares went through, he’d never had a pony so brazenly speak to him on the matter. His jaw flapped uselessly for a moment, while his eyes stayed glued to her meaty, moistened lower lips, before he could find his voice.

“I…I didn’t realize,” he muttered, only looking away from her juicy loins when she turned around to glower at him.

“Clearly,” she chided. “So now that the cat is quite obviously out of the bag, when am I going to get some relief?”

Lifting a finger and opening his mouth, fully intent to tell her that he didn’t offer that sort of service, he barely managed to silence himself. Though he’d been in Equestria for the better part of a year, he had no earthly idea if tending to mares’ amorous urges was a routine facet operating a hotel - moreover, he’d be lying if his manhood hadn’t taken an immediate interest in what she was asking for. Licking his lips and concocted a plan, pushing aside several questions he had, he ignored his growing erection.

“I’m afraid there’ll be a small fee involved,” he politely declared.

His higher functions begged him to stop, reminding him of all the bullshit he’d gotten into throughout his erotic escapades spurred by Discord’s - er - Eris’ machinations, yet his instincts implored him to oblige her - that and he certainly wasn’t opposed to making some extra scratch. Though he would have never guessed he’d end up selling his body for bits and a night of company, it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’d ever done - plus, as far as he knew, Equestria had no laws forbidding prostitution. An arrogant smirk split his lips, as he heard her resignedly sigh.

She sneered, though not for the reason he’d assumed. “I don’t expect this sort of treatment to be gratis.”

With the ball back in his court, he pressed his luck. “Fifty bits, but there’s a discount for nightly sessions.”

“Fifty bits?!” she scoffed, holding a hoof to her chest. Her shock faded quickly, replaced by indignant, hormonally fueled vitriol, as she trotted forward and prodded his sternum. “You want me to pay more than double the standard rate?”

Whether she knew it or not, she had him at a disadvantage. Between his growing erection, the prospect of getting his dick wet, and making more money, he wasn’t about to risk pissing her off more than she already was. Lifting his hand and surrendering to her, seconds from offering her a very hefty discount, he was unprepared for just how demanding she was. Using her not inconsiderable earth pony strength, shoving him onto his back, she walked up his chest, straddled his head, and nonchalantly seated herself squarely on his face.

To say going from talking to having a mare spontaneously use his face as a chair was jarring to say the least, but that wasn’t nearly enough to stop him. The heady scent of her sex, her juices against his lips, and her plump thighs pressed to his ears made exquisitely compelling points, spurring him on and fanning the flames of his carnal desires. Though he wasn’t exactly proud of it, he hadn’t been laid since his raunchy adventure across Equestria - something he viewed as a mixed blessing. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get by with an issue of PlayColt and some lube, but knowing what he was missing with a mare was downright torturous - thankfully, his protracted dry-spell had come to a sudden and admittedly completely unforeseen end.

Despite no small amount of time having passed since he’d shared a bed with anypony, all the skills he’d accrued and the familiar sensations came flooding back. Brooding and onerous though she was, Harshwhinny was a mare - a mare with an itch he was more than capable of scratching. His hands flew upward, grasping her ample, warm hips, as he closed his eyes and drew his tongue up her entrance.

He’d presumed that diving into her muff, expertly licking and gently nibbling her marehood, would have caused her to ease up a bit, but he’d been mistaken. Aggressively bucking her hips, grinding her snatch against him and smearing his face with her hot nectar, she clucked her tongue. It wasn’t like he could move if he wanted to, not without heaving her off and evoking her ire, so he doubled down and plunged his tongue into her.

“There we are,” she hummed, relenting ever so slightly. “Really get in there…”

As he secured his grip and pulled her close, his libido grew tempered with determination. Quite literally smothered in well-aged horse puss, starved from air, he feverishly ate her out. After having gone months without the slightest trace of intimacy, he couldn’t care less that the cougar was on the mature side of things - as far as he was concerned, getting down and dirty with a seasoned mare was better than spending another night with a box of tissues and his hand for company.

Apparently pleased with his efforts, she shuffled back on her knees and peered down at him. While she made sure to keep him muzzled between her thighs, her marehood pressed to his mouth, he was given just enough room to peek up at her - and what a sight it was to behold. He hadn’t gotten a good look at them earlier, mostly because he towered over her, but her succulent tits paired perfectly with the haughty smirk plastered on her muzzle.

“Don’t get too distracted,” she mused, clenching her sex around his probing tongue. “If you do an adequate job, I may let you play with them later.”

Celestia have mercy upon him - he’d gone from softly snoozing to eating out a patron for cash at the drop of a hat - not that he was about to bitch about the lewd turn of events. Tilting his head back and taking a deep breath through his nose, absolutely flooding his sinuses with her scent, he locked eyes with her. If his intuition was right, and he prayed it was, it wouldn’t be long before she was ready to move from the opening to the main course.

With blinding speed, blinked away in but a moment, his weariness was overtaken by a longing to get his dick wet. Well aware of what wonders mares could deliver, with their exquisite pelvic control and sublime body heat, being a few degrees hotter than a human’s natural temperature, he did his damnedest to warm her up. He had no way of knowing how active she was, but he was going to make sure she was ready to take every inch of what his cock had to offer.

Seconds dragged into minutes, as he employed every oral trick in his licentious book. She was definitely enjoying herself, judging from her soft groans, gyrations, and how he’d swallowed at least one good mouthful of her juices, but there was one small problem - she’d shown no sign of getting close. With his neglected dick being so hard that it ached, his lust-drive impatience growing stronger with passing moment, he twisted his head and cleared his mouth.

“How about you hop off and I’ll give you what you really want,” he hummed, attempting to sound debonair.

“First of all, don’t pretend to know what I want -” she corrected, twisting around to glance back at his groin, “secondly…oh…”

Her tone and sudden pause meant one of two things - either she’d only then noticed the substantial tent at his crotch or she hadn’t fathomed how well-hung he was. One of his initial concerns about being flung to Equestria was that he couldn’t compete with stallions, fearing his size would be inadequate, yet that hadn’t been the case. His imposing stature compared to most ponies meant his average - possibly slightly above average endowment was quite large by Equestrian standards.

Playfully bucking his hips, he grinned. “So why don’t we -”

“Hush,” she hissed, pressing a forehoof to his lips.

Without saying a word, she got to her hooves, carefully twisted in place, and trotted around to his waist. As happy as he was to be able to breathe, being able to watch her reaction to seeing his goods was an experience in and of itself - sure, it may have been a bit narcissistic to cherish something so self-indulgent, but he was too turned on to stop himself. Pulling the bed sheet away, exposing inch after inch of his torso, she gradually unveiled his package.

Harshwhinny stood mute for just a moment, staring down his tool, before snorting and twisting in place. “Adequate…”

For the third time in the short period he’d known her, he was stunned by the discerning, impertinent mare. Had she not been stepping over him, bringing her drenched marehood directly above his turgid length, he may have asked what her definition of adequate was, but he kept his lips sealed. If there was one thing he’d learned about her, it was that she had no reservations about being direct.

“Now hold still and - Mmmm - let me savor this,” she whispered, lowering her hips and kissing her snatch to the tip of his shaft.

Slowly, almost cautiously, she impaled herself on his pulsing manhood. The heat of her depths was staggering, yet the sight of her sheathing his length, paired with a faint, nearly imperceptible whimper that escaped her, was the stuff wet dreams were made of. It took everything he had not to thrust up into her, yet he was able to manage - if only just. As their bodies connected, her ass on his thighs as she fully seated herself, she peeked up at him, gave a victorious wiggle of her hips, and began raising her waist.

Stars above, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control himself for much longer. Though she was far from some buxom, nubile mare, she carried with her a lifetime of experience - experience he grew increasingly tempted to test. She may have shared her bed with any number of stallions or other creatures, but a human - well, there was no way this wasn’t a first for her.

He’d only been ridden by lovers on a small handful of occasions in Equestria, but he could instantly appreciate her technique. The subtle movements of her hips, how she milked his shaft, and the periodic adjustments to her speed were only things gained from practice and lecherous expertise. She wasn’t simply using him like a marital aid - she was enjoying the rapturous torment she subjected him to.

Ruthless and sensual, pairing the carnal know-how of a whore with the grace and guile of a high-class mistress, she sought to bend him to her will. Even if he’d gotten laid regularly, he would have struggled to maintain himself in front of such a predator - for that’s exactly what she was. A younger man or pony would have broken within minutes, maybe less, yet he somehow summoned the mettle to endure.

Freeing all but the head of his cock, she slammed herself down and hilted him. “Now that we’ve begun, how about you put those hands to good use.”

With that single request, like some needy, inexperienced teenager, he reached out and put himself to work. It had been one thing to follow her steely orders, pitting himself against her, but her blessing for him to involve himself flicked a switch within him. One hand fondled and groped her right breast, brushing and gently kneading the dark flesh of her teat, while the other dipped lower. With his palm on her thigh, he used his thumb to stroke her clit as she languidly fucked herself on him.

She rolled her head back and groaned, sending an excited shiver through him, as he lifted and braced his legs. He wasn’t about to disobey her, laying almost entirely still, but he’d be remiss for not giving her something to recline against. Falling into a steady rhythm, driving him into the mattress with each descent, she flashed her teeth at him.

“You want it, don’t you?” she softly inquired, continuing without pause. “The way you’re throbbing, how I can feel your hips twitching with anticipation - it’s simply delicious…”

He couldn’t reply - not because he was unable to speak, but because he had nothing to say. She’d been completely correct, he yearned to grab her waist and thrust into her, yet her domineering presence quickly had him on the back foot. His hubris, a hubris borne from rutting nobility and a pantheon of exotic creatures, crumbled to ash, as he finally met his sexual match.

Ignoring the backrest of his thighs, she leaned forward and brought her muzzle to his chest. “For all your size and strength, you’re little different than a randy colt ~” she murmured, squeezing his cock in her fiery depths, “isn’t that right?” He stifled a yelp, as she gingerly bit his nipple and gazed up at him. “Isn’t it…?”

“Y…yeah,” he sputtered, his hands slipping out from beneath them.

Drawing her tongue up his collar and to his neck, causing him to shudder in barely-kept exhilaration, she brought her muzzle closer to his ear. “Go ahead,” she purred, “rut me like I’m that filly on prom night that you didn’t get…”

Her sinful taunt was the final nail in his coffin, sundering his restraint in the blink of an eye. His feet sank into the bed, his legs tensed, and he drove his hips upward with all the subtlety of a rut-crazed beast. Making love to or outright screwing naive, passionate creatures could be fun, but the wiles of a woman, regardless of species, who knew what she was doing was an entirely different ball game. Grabbing her behind with one hand, while wrapping his free arm around the small of her back, he plowed her with everything he had.

The catharsis of succumbing to his primal wants mingled with the physical bliss she afforded, threatening to undo him, yet her seemingly unshakable composure went unscathed. While it was true that she grunted and threw her ass back to meet his thrusts, clenching on his backstrokes while relaxing on his plunges, it felt like her every move was calculated - almost like she was toying with him. As pleasant as the exchange was, his enthusiasm grew tinged with something which tainted the moment - frustration.

Hoping - no, needing to best her, he craned his neck and went in for a kiss - only to have her extend a foreleg and push his face away. “No,” she breathed, staring daggers at him, “you have to earn that…”

Undeterred, he set his jaw and adjusted his positioning. It may have been true that she was on top, controlling the situation in more ways than one, but he had a few tricks of his own that may turn the tide. Altering the trajectory of his thrusts, he accosted her womb and scraped his length against her g-spot - a tactic which was met with profound and immediate success.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, her eye lids fluttering. “That’s the spot…”

Her moment of weakness was like the sweetest wine, fueling his passionate fire and driving him onward. It didn’t bother him in the slightest that she was significantly older than himself, and he could even excuse her being short-tempered with him earlier - the only thing he cared about was making sure she was left satisfied. As his hands slipped to her rump, taking a good, secure grip, he slowed his pace.

It took no time at all for her to notice his slackening ministrations, and she cast a baleful eye up at him for it. “Why’d you…”

Before she could finish speaking, he lifted her up, cocked his hips back, then slammed her down while pounding into her. Bipedal morphology and possession of digits aside, there were two traits of his that most ponies lacked - sheer size and the strength which came with it. Whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat, as he used her like a sex toy.

It wasn’t the easiest maneuver to pull off, putting no small strain on his muscles and fatiguing him quickly, but the payoffs far outstripped the costs. The guttural, wholly unbecoming noises she made were nearly as intoxicating as the way her silken canal quivered around his pistoning shaft. It felt both physically and psychologically incredible to flip the tables and reap lecherous vengeance upon her, reducing her to a drooling, trembling plaything, and he had no intention of stopping until she was a quivering, cum-filled heap.

Her movements gradually dulled, going limp in his grasp, as her breaths grew hitched. It may have been a while since he’d gotten intimate with a mare, but her impending climax was made manifest. He’d done it, he’d managed to turn the tide and plow her into submission - all that was left was to finish her off. Transitioning from long, deep strokes to a frenzied jackhammering, he forced her past the threshold and into the welcoming embrace of nirvana.

Her orgasmic howl, the baptism of her nectar, and her quaking limbs were inspirational to a fault, signaling his victory over one who’d threatened to best him, or so he’d thought. He was only able to relish the fleeting instant for but a single beat of his heart, before the unthinkable happened. Her lips curled back and her legs went rigid, as she pushed herself up and threw herself back.

With her knees to either side of his waist, her back propped against his thighs, she reclined and drew a hoof down her chest and between her bosoms. As he looked down her frame, his eyes settling on her stuffed, battered marehood, he went still. Having her recover with preternatural speed would have been startling enough, yet the sight of her atop him, imperious and well aware that she had him on the ropes, left him at an utter loss.

“Adequate,” she cooed, seizing the reins and effortlessly asserting herself over him.

As she started to ride him once again, bouncing on him with renewed vigor, he weakly bucked up to meet her. Though he was far from finished, he was keenly aware that she’d struck his death knell. Even with all his past conquests, he’d never stood a chance against her. With the realization that she’d defeated him at one of the few things he prided himself in, his composure shattered and he skyrocketed toward release.

She may have screwed him for seconds or hours - honestly, he couldn’t say - in any case, his end came far too quickly. Clamping his eyes shut, desperately railing against his welling bliss, he was cast past the brink and into an abyss of ecstasy. As the first shots of his seed coursed through his spasming length, she seated herself and fiercely constricted her depths around him.

Her gratified, triumphant hum was the icing on the cake, as she draped herself on his chest and gave a contented sigh. “Very adequate…”

“Uh…uh-huh…” he wheezed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Not only had he blown a massive load in his customer, but he’d subsequently made himself a whore in the process. Too weary to be concerned, resigning himself to bask in the afterglow and her warmth, he drowsily wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his side and carried her along with himself. Temporary tenant or not, after what they’d just done, she’d earned a night in his bed.

“Tomorrow morning, promptly at seven AM, I’ll expect a fresh scone and a coffee - two sugars, one cream,” she casually mused, acting as though the passionate lovemaking had hardly happened at all.

Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Ok…”

“But,” she hastily added, lifting her head and nuzzling his chin, “if you continue to impress me, I’ll allow you to enjoy my company for the rest of my stay.”

“Just one thing though,” he croaked, spurred on by the dopamine flooding his brain. “I want you to teach me everything you know about how to please a mare…”

Her eyes widened then narrowed, as she gazed up at him. “If you give me a discount on my board and prove yourself to be a gracious host, I can accommodate your request.”

Without breaking eye contact, she lifted a foreleg. His gut told him it was a bad idea, but what choice did he have. A few nights of companionship, broadening his horizons, and honing his sensual skills definitely wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, even if he had to put up with whatever demands she had for him, so he hesitantly accepted. Shaking her hoof, he uneasily smiled.

“Good - now then, with that settled, carry me to the shower and help me clean up this mess, then you can change the sheets and we can get a decent night’s rest,” she flippantly stated, pressing her cheek to his chest.

Unable to shake off the sneaking suspicion that he’d just made a dire mistake, he held her close and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was tired, the mattress was probably going to end up stained, and he doubted he’d get much sleep before getting up at the crack of dawn to get her a blasted scone, but at least he’d had a bit of fun and, if she held true to her word, he’d have some stress relief for the next few days. As he trudged off to his bathroom, carrying the feisty cougar along with himself, his exhausted grin never wavered. Yeah, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad having her around for a little while…