the waistband of his shorts, and found him already thickening. “The next time we need a motto, I promise you’ll be the first one we call.” She squeezed gently and heard his soft groan. “The very, very first.” Lust. Lust. Lust. “Have I mentioned . . .”
“Yeah?”
“I love your scent.”
“Ummmm . . .”
“I absolutely love it.” Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. He was unzipping his fly to give her more room, but she ignored it. Squeeze. Release. “You know the only thing I like better than how you smell?”
His groan was drawn out and his eyes were rolling up; he tried to speak and could not.
“How you taste.”
Forty-two
“What now?”
Rachael stretched beside him. They’d made it back to her bedroom . . . eventually. “Food?”
“I was thinking about the long term.”
“More food?”
He jabbed her in the ribs and she shrieked and jabbed back. “Agh! Yes, yes, we’ll stop by a slaughterhouse on the way to the bluffs and you can gorge until you blow up.”
“Ooooh. Too mean.”
“For reals?” His smile had faded at once as he watched her face.
“No, but . . . borderline. More a girl thing—does this wolf form make my butt look big?—than a Pack thing, though, in your defense.”
“Got it. No more slaughterhouse jokes. Are there any racial slurs I need to be aware of? Wait. Not racial slurs . . . species slurs? Anything I should watch out for? Hey, wolfie! Would that be super uncool?”
“Yes, but not for the reason you think.”
“Har-har. You still haven’t answered my question.” He had hopped off the bed and was searching for his underwear. “What now? You know. With us. With this. What’s next for us? As a couple, I mean.” He colored, and she didn’t think he was blushing about putting his Batman boxers back on. “Assuming there’s an us. Y’know, going forward if we’re already an us. But if you didn’t think so, it’s okay.” He was stepping into his jeans and talking faster. “I’m not saying I thought so, or assumed you thought so, but if you did I’d be okay with that.”
She tried not to stare as he babbled, but the man looked like he was only seconds from going up in a blaze of spontaneous combustion. It was impossible not to stare.
“If you’re in it just to have a little fun, I wouldn’t . . . I mean, I wouldn’t expect—maybe we should just go our separate ways now. Not that I want to! I’m just okay if you want to.”
“Wow. Shut up now, okay?”
“Yes ma’am.” There was no mistaking the relief in his tone.
“Are you all right? Maybe you should sit down.”
“Now that I’m not trying to think and talk at the same time, it’s safe for both of us.”
“This is new territory for me, too.” One of the places they’d lingered was her little shower, which had been too small to have any serious fun, but large enough for considerable foreplay. So she was clean yet rumpled. Not that snoozing in her hobbit hole would have gotten her paws dirty, but habit was strong.
She found clean panties and, for a wonder, a bra the same color. Rachael had nothing but admiration for women who wore matching underwear, but she had never been up to the strain, not to mention the organizational skills. She opened the closet and pulled out a loose, comfortable linen shift in sky blue. Something to match blue flats . . .
She pulled the shift over her head. “Some of my girlfriends have dated guys who weren’t Pack, but my cousin Michael is the only one I know who took one to mate.”
“Yeah? Really? Ooh, I love it, Romeo and Juliet as told by the Pack. His family has too many secrets, and her family Just Doesn’t Understand. Together, they—”
“Married quite without problems or interference of any kind, and had two children.”
“Story-wise, it’s pretty dull. But real-life wise, it’s kind of a relief.”
She stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a brush. “Our kind—sorry about the term—our kind don’t have a problem mating with non-Pack. The cubs—excuse me, the children of those matings tend to be exceptional. So of course my cousins are.” She grinned as she pulled the brush through her dark locks. “His eldest, Lara, she’ll be our next leader, and she’s already leading the family through all sorts of trials, you wouldn’t even believe it. She’s Michael all over again, really, and karma can be a real bitch. She—”
She glanced at Edward, who was listening with rapt attention. “Oh.