Grabbing a mug out of the cabinet, I pour myself a cup of the coffee Wolf brewed and add my creamer to it. I leaning against the counter and take my first sip, noticing his two-way radio ischarging and set up on a docking station on the far end of the counter. Both green and red lights glow near the antenna, and a barely audible droning noise hums from the base.
“What’s this?” I tip my chin at the setup as he pads down the stairs.
“I’m on call this weekend,” he explains.
I nod slowly. That must not happen often, as this is the first time since we’ve been married I’ve heard of it.
“So you’ll need to report for any emergencies?”
“Right.” He helps himself to more coffee.
“Well, I was thinking it would be a good day to release Finn,” I mention. “Maybe we should do it sooner than later then.” The bobcat has been chomping at the bit. His pain has been pretty much nonexistent as far as I can tell, and though I can barely get a good look at his wound, it seems the inflammation is gone. He’s been eating and drinking well, and it’s not a good idea for him to get accustomed to being hand fed.
Wolf nods thoughtfully. “I’ll get showered,” he announces, heading back for the stairs.
I try to reconcile myself to the idea that last night was a fleeting occurrence. He said he likes to sleep close to me sometimes, but maybe our efforts to get intimate—emotionally and physically—will ebb and flow and take some time. My impatience has me fidgeting, and I start to braid a few strands of my hair and gaze out the window.
When Wolf ventures back down the stairs in jeans and a T-shirt, he’s still barefoot and has wet hair, and a certain warmth flushes through my body. I find myself seeking distraction for a whole other reason now, and I’m irritated because he seems to have no clue. He’s carrying his belt and his coffee mug, and he sets the latter down on the counter across from me to loop the other onto his jeans, oblivious to how his appearance is makingliquid heat swirl in my abdomen while last night’s events occupy my mind.Fucker.
He looks up from his task to find me transfixed, my mug on the counter in front of me barely touched and a haphazard braid woven into my otherwise rat’s nest of hair. “Shower’s yours,” he offers.
My only response is to hustle up the stairs to the still humid bathroom filled with the scent of his leathery bodywash. Keeping my shower short and a little on the cold side helps—moderately.
My muscles aretired and straining by the time Wolf and I set the jostling, hissing crate on the edge of the property line. We still have no idea who set up the heinous trap, but Wolf and his brothers have made sure there are no others. They also gathered some fur that had fallen from Finn and scattered it in the direction we want him to go.
The day is picturesque for this kind of occasion—the sunshine shimmers off the leaves of the trees, and the tall grass sways to a song in the breeze.
“Do the honors?” Wolf hands me the looped end of the twine affixed to the clasp on the front of the crate door.
Smiling, I take it from him, wondering if he’s basking in the significance of this moment in the same way I am. I take in a deep breath of crisp spring air, swearing I can taste the sunshine on it as I yank the twine, allowing the metal grate door to swing open. Several moments pass before I finally see movement. The crate shakes as Finn rips from its confines, dashing through the grass, his svelte body whisking to the top of a small incline before stopping to take in his surroundings. Finn bows into acrouch, his impossibly long whiskers twitching as he takes his time casing the environment for threats and scents.
My cheeks split from the grin pulling at them and I whisper, “Go,” willing him to hear my voice on the breeze and understand it in his own animal mind. My heart and my lungs are at an impasse; the former wants to race wildly while the latter doesn’t seem to want to take a breath.
A warm touch feathers at my hand, and I look down to see Wolf’s fingers wandering in the air between us, seeking out mine. They brush each other again and lace together, and when I look up at him, he’s leaning toward me, but his eyes are set straight ahead on Finnegan. He’s watching him with the same bated breath I am, eagerly waiting for the cat to fully free himself.
I look back to Finn myself, still silently urging. “Go on, go,” I whisper again. I finally let out the breath I’d been holding and hungrily draw in another before the bobcat arches his back, shakes out his tail, and tears off again, bounding across the field, his hind legs meeting his front with each gallop.
“Yes!” I shout, so overcome with relief, joy, and a fresh exhilaration. I turn toward Wolf, wanting to gauge his reaction, to see if we’re sharing in the same brand of endorphins. I don’t speak, still catching my breath as if just getting off the biggest thrill ride of my life.
A relaxed smile adorns his lips, and his eyes flash with some kind of excitement. He gives me time to replace one breath, maybe two and then his hands encase my rib cage and pull me toward him, and his lips firmly press and hungrily move against mine.
It feels like we’re drowning in each other, and I don’t want to come up for air. I want the force of this current to pull me under. And what’s even more intoxicating is I think Wolf feels the same way. His kiss is borderline desperate, like he’s chasingsomething he’s so close to catching. Something he never knew he wanted but he never wants to go without again. To be at the center of that kind of desire is dizzying. Never mind that no matter how this ends up, we’re turning a corner, and it gives me hope for this union.
I’m both thrilled and relieved that my body responds this way. It’s one thing I can take off the list of things to worry about making this marriage work. We definitely have chemistry, and yet it feels like something so beyond that as Wolf’s strong arms come around me and lifts me up, taking hold of my knee to guide my legs around him.
The next few events are a blur of more mouths melding and heavy breathing and jostling as Wolf gets us back to the house, using our momentum to push through the front door. He yanks off his hat and discards it before kicking the door shut with his heel. Wolf sets me down and our hands venture off, touching everywhere. Wolf’s grip my waist as mine skim up his chest, wanting so badly to explore the smooth skin I know is under there.
He dances me back toward the couch before bending over me and draping us across it. At the contact, a breath whooshes out of me followed quickly by a moaning sigh because the weight of his body on top of mine—it’s a feeling I never knew I needed so badly.
Wolf’s mouth resumes its ravaging of mine, and I’m enjoying every movement, every press of his lips and sweep of his tongue, and I’m beginning to feel an ache radiating from my core to the tender place between my legs. It’s like a kind of torture, yet I press into him, seeking more. When he releases an approving groan into my mouth, I damn near space out.
When he breaks away, we both draw in air before his mouth takes to my jaw, blazing a trail down my neck. I’ve never been so in tune with someone else or so aware of the many thingshappening in every part of me. Any shred of modesty I might’ve been clinging to is lost in the wind, and I can’t help letting out sounds of pleasure. A shuddery sigh when Wolf’s mouth delves into the V of my T-shirt. A moan when his hand travels up underneath it. A whimper when he pulls it up enough to make out with my stomach.
“Wolf,” I pant out his name helplessly.
His face returns to mine. “Is it too fast?” he asks, nibbling at my jawline.
“No,” I say. “No, I want more.”