wasn’t my sister. My name wasn’t my name. I should be more upset about that than I was.
I’d always known I didn’t belong. Having it confirmed made me kind of Zen for the first time in a lifetime.
Eventually I’d have to decide what to do, what to say, if anything, to the rest of the world. For now, I had to let it all settle in.
A fire had been laid in the fireplace. The idea of sitting on the faux-fur rug, staring into the dancing flames with Owen, had me striking a match. I went in search of wine glasses, had to settle for juice glasses instead. By the time he returned with the food and that wine, I was dozing. The sound of the door, the rush of cool air brought me back.
I accepted the bag of food and the bottle of wine. We didn’t even have to search for a corkscrew. Kyle, or whoever was working tonight, had already done the honors. He’d also provided a litter box and litter.
“Cat lover?” I asked.
“He said he had all sorts of things that people had left behind.”
Owen joined me on the rug, held the glasses so I could pour. “This is homey.” We tapped rims, drank.
He smelled like chill wind and the fresh outdoors. I scooted closer so I could lean my head on his shoulder. We stared into the fire and sipped. Grenade purred a contented serenade. I wanted to stay here forever. With him.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“You want to talk about it?”
I wasn’t sure which “it” he meant. Didn’t matter.
“No.” I drained my wine.
“More?”
I set my glass on the end table, turned back, took his, and set it aside too. “Yes.” I pulled off my shirt.
His gaze went to my breasts. “Becca,” he began.
“Shh,” I said, and kissed him.
He tasted like red wine and winter wind. I sucked on his lip. His hands, still cold from outside, felt glorious in contrast to the heat pouring from the fireplace.
I lifted my mouth just long enough to yank off his shirt. Then I traced the patterns the flames made across his chest with my tongue and my teeth.
He pulled the band from the end of my braid, worked his fingers through my hair. The drift of the strands on my shoulders made me shiver. Or maybe it was the flick of his thumbs on my nipples. The heat had softened them; his touch changed that. I puckered, pebbled, and he pulled me into his lap, guiding my legs on either side of his hips.
“Wait.” I reached for my zipper.
He stayed my hand. “Not yet.”
Then he took my breast into his mouth, suckling, teasing, tormenting—first one, then the other—as he hardened against me. I had to steady myself with my hands on his shoulders, then I became fascinated by the play of muscles beneath my palms, the spike of his collarbone beneath my thumbs.
His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me against him. Through several layers of clothing I felt his heat, the beat of his pulse, or maybe that was mine.
“Please,” I whispered, dizzy with desire.
He lifted his head then became captivated by the flicker of flame too. His tongue chased the shadows across my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder. The dampness left by his mouth cooled despite the heat, and I shivered.
He scooped me into his arms, rose to his knees, tilted, and laid me on the fur. It was warm and soft. I shimmied against it, and he cursed, stood, and lost his pants.
“Wait.” He was so beautiful—naked and rippling and damn near perfect. Even the scar that marred his leg was smooth and sleek.
He clenched his hands, released them, and clenched them again. “You’re killing me.”
I beckoned, and he dropped to the ground and reached for my jeans. I’d forgotten I still had them on.
He drew them down my legs, removed my socks, then kissed and stroked his way back up. A peck on my toes, his thumbs against the arch of my foot, tongue behind each knee, teeth on the inside of my thigh.
His breath brushed my core, and my hips lifted from the fur. His mouth pushed me back down. With fingers and tongue he made me come, gasping, biting back the scream. I didn’t want to wake the animals. Though the animal in me, in him, had awoken shrieking.
He slid into me while I was still quaking. Stroked once, twice, a third time—harder, deeper, better. I hadn’t thought it was possible, but what the