I blink a couple times and then let out another little laugh.
He finally smirks and struts out of the room.
I hear the bathroom door close.
After it opens and I hear him go down the stairs, I slip into the bathroom, wet the washcloth and soap it up before I wash myself from my neck to my tummy. I don’t scrub hard. Because Idowant to smell like I’m his. I love that he’s this possessive.
I just have far too many sensory issues to walk around with my skin feeling like the back of a Post-it note.
50
JASE
While waiting for the coffee to brew, I check out the notifications on my phone, including the string of new comments in the family group chat, which is full of congratulatory messages from Mom, Tay, and Gwen, and I have to smile at the two thumbs up from my dad in a row. It’s a running joke that he reads the messages but rarely comments, instead using a thumbs up to show he’s in agreement or giving an acknowledgement for whatever is being discussed. My sisters joked in their comments about how happy he must be for me to bestow the double thumbs.
After that, there’s a new conversation between Mom, Tay, and Gwen from earlier this morning about the schedule for Sherry’s care with an update indicating she’s doing well, that Mitch wants to give her another day of forced shifts to ensure she’s fighting fit in a way that’ll mean the best chance for that baby to grow and thrive. After that, the current plan is to force a shift every other day until it’s decided she no longer requires sedation.
Suddenly, my mate bursts into the room, dressed in one of my button-down shirts.
I’m thrown for a half a beat because she’s not wearing her glasses and also not squinting to see me like she always does without them.
She’s worn those eyeglasses since she was small, but mating removed the need for them. Matingmegranted her a wolf andperfect vision and I feel pretty damn good about those two things.
Though, I might miss the glasses, the way she wiggles her nose to adjust them, not to mention the cute way she squints to look at me on the rare occasion she has them off for a minute.
“I was bringing breakfast upstairs,” I advise.
“You were taking too long,” she says with a shake of her head.
And I’m about to suggest she throw away all her clothes and just wear my shirts from now on when she slaps the counter and demands, “Forget coffee cake. I want some bloody, raw meat. Fast!”
I guess I’m not fast enough because she yanks the fridge open and surveys the ingredients.
“I’m gonna eat some and see if it makes me shift,” she declares.
I step up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, using my chin to brush her hair aside so I can put my mouth to my mark on her.
Bailey shivers and melts into me which soothes the beast within like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Fuck, this feels good.
“Why is there no raw meat in here?” she asks, annoyed.
“Have some cake and coffee and we’ll thaw something,” I suggest, kissing her mate mark and backing up.
“Drats. That’ll take forever,” she complains, opening the freezer door. “Unless I use the defrost on your microwave. Hm…”
“You haven’t even had coffee yet. My mate doesn’t usually face the day without her caffeine.”
“Your mate wants something meaty!”
“I got somethin’ meaty for ya,” I drawl.
Humor lights up her face. “But I want meatyandbloody. And no way do I want you to be bloody because I can’t help but sink my teeth into you.”
“Then, let’s thaw something.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Turns out that technically it’s myoglobin, that comes out of meat, which is different from blood.”
“If that’s the case, it’d be meat, not blood you’re after, Baileypedia.”