Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I go still. “Wait… did you know all this already?”
He tips his head to the side studying me.
“Is that why you offered me the job?”
When he doesn’t immediately answer, I know I’m right. The proud part of me is pissed off, but it’s drowned out by gratitude. I don’t know why Rafe took an interest in me, but I can deny how good it feels to be seen. To be cared for.
Loved.
Rafe lowers his forehead to mine. His lips are so close it’s hard to concentrate. “So…” His voice has a coaxing lilt to it, and the hand on my hip has slid inside the hem of the long t-shirt. “Now that you’ve identified our issues, are you going to let me help?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
His grin turns wicked. “As if you had a choice.”
I try to push against his rock solid chest, but he goes nowhere.
He captures me by banding an arm behind my back and pulling my body up against his. “I’ll help you get it open. Will you let me?”
My breath catches in my throat. My instinct is to say no, but that’s just my habit. To put up barricades and refuse anything that’s not an even trade. Rafe’s eyes crinkle with amusement as he watches my struggle.
“Maybe,” I say finally.
He lets out a chuff of laughter before he brushes his lips across mine. “Accepting help isn’t a weakness. It’s a strength. Don’t be weird about this.”
I try to give him another playful shove away. “You calling me weird? This from the guy who strips off his shirt to wrestle his subordinates in the snow during dinner. That’s ripe.”
“That’s not weird,” he says, but there’s laughter on his face, and I love how youthful it makes him look. “That’s normal for us. I guess it would seem weird to you. I’m sorry it made you uncomfortable. I have a hard time staying rational around you.”
I want to take it as a compliment, but Rafe seems to sober, as if he doesn’t like his reaction to me. But I guess for a guy who craves control, falling in love might feel like skidding across black ice in an old truck with bald tires.
It feels that way a little bit to me, anyway, and I don’t have half the control issues he does. I reach out and interlace my fingers with his. I want to tell him that I’m falling in love, but I know that would make whatever internal struggle he’s having harder, so instead, I lead him back to the bedroom, ready for another round.
9
Rafe
I get up early to shift and run because staying in bed with Adele last night had me half feral and awake most of the night. I pleasured her twice more before we slept, and watching her come might be the highlight of my entire life.
Maybe I should claim her. The guys are right. I can’t go on this way much longer–it will end in disaster. Best case, it actually kills me. Worst case, I hurt Adele or someone else I love.
Yes, I love her. Shifters don’t think in terms of love. Mating is more biological to us, yet I’m starting to understand what humans must feel. It goes beyond physical attraction. It’s the need to just be near her. To listen to the sound of her voice, to learn the complexities of what makes her so special.
I find our clothing still out on the deck, frozen to the wood planks, and it turns me half-feral again, wondering what Adele’s wearing right now. I gather the clothes, groaning aloud over her bra and panty set–another sexy duet, this time in navy and white polkadots. When I step inside, I pull on some clothes and drop our frozen ones in the washing machine. Then I follow my nose to the kitchen where I find Adele wearing nothing but my t-shirt again.
She’s made the space her own, moving around like she’s boss. It’s a given that my dick is hard, but my mouth also waters from the smells coming from the oven, and there’s something less physical and more all-encompassing that wends its way around me, binding me to her with invisible cords.
“Smells delicious. What are you making?”
Adele tosses a sexy smile over her shoulder at me. “Sausage, mushroom and spinach frittata.” Her eyes rake up and down my body. I’m in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but the way her gaze heats, she must find me enticing. Does the human mate of a shifter recognize her mate’s scent on some level? “Did you work up an appetite?”
“I’m always hungry around you,” I admit in a rough voice. I grip her nape and lift her face to mine for a searing kiss.
Her lips kick up into a smile when I break it. “Five minutes.” She bites my chest through my t-shirt.