“Fucking hell, Daphne.” His fingertips swept over my lips, dipping into the back of my throat. Pumping. Rolling. They tasted like cigarettes and bits of tobacco fucking into my mouth.
My eyes slammed shut, the mist of Seattle gleaming at the edges with every growl. And for a moment, it was quiet except for the sounds of blades skating along the edge of Blackwater Lake while gently lit pines crested through fallen snow.
“Daph…” Wolfe’s entire body caged me in, the sides of his hips drowning me further until I couldn’t keep it in. Not the image of five women sucking off Thay. Not the dots in the forest where everything was safe. And not the illusion only Wolfe could conjure, one where I was completely whole and almost his.
“Fuck,” we came together, the leather growing tighter as a choir of pleasure painted the grimy sound of city static in uneven splotches.
Wolfe toppled forward, throbbing inside me, his body holding me against the wall while mine slumped around him. I shivered into his frame until everything became splintered. Broken. Perfect. Mine.
“I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted as we slowed, releasing my hands and gently draping them over his shoulders. I buried my face into the crest of his neck, playing with his hair the way I always did afterward.
“I miss you too,” I confessed again, wishing my bed were nearby.
Wolfe drew back to stare into my eyes, pressing a half-smile to my mouth.
My phone shivered. BUZZ.
Wolfe was still inside me when he pulled it free from his pocket, glancing at the scroll in real time.
“Shit.” He handed it to me, and I read the most recent text.
To my surprise, not all of them were from Thay. One was from my preceptor, informing me that Alyssa Masters had gone into labor. I was in a cohort of four others and had already completed my hours for the week, but something inside me told me torespond. It was likely the same voice telling me to avoid Thay by keeping my body moving. I leaned into it.
“Need to go?” Wolfe asked, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Shit. I still cannot believe that you are a fucking doctor.”
“A midwife is not a doctor.”
“It really is.” He slid the belt from around my neck and pulled himself from my body, kissing my nose on the way out. “I love that scrunch,” he teased as I fell, and I missed him already. “Nathem,” Wolfe spoke into his phone. “Can you bring the car to the side? Daphne needs some clothes.”
“Daphne? As inourDaphne,” Nathem celebrated, and I smiled.
“The very one.”
“Hell yeah.”
Nathem was the club’s Irish rogue, always finding his way in and out of shit, despite being a six-foot Nephilim. While in the dorms, he taught me the finer points in life, like how to sip whiskey, journal instead of rage, and shoot a sawed-off without it knocking me on my ass.
Wolfe kissed my cheek when a black Suburban squealed down the alleyway.
“Hey, beautiful!” A red-haired menace with mismatched eyes jumped out of the front seat to pull me into the warmest hug. “Turns out the world sucks ass without you.”
I laughed, throwing my hands around his stomach.
“But fuck, you are always so pretty after you come.”
I scowled, elbowing with a playful grin.
He would know.
Before Wolfe took the ranks and moved into the leader’s suite, they shared a wall, and I can’t say we were exactly quiet. But more than that, Nathem was a shoulder, a steady thrum in a world where regulation was a myth. He was there the day I found Wolfe with another woman, and all the moments after.
“Here,” Wolfe handed me the standard black-on-black sweatpants and hoodie the crew wore whenever they were out doing “tasks.” I eyed them warily, pulling on the pants under my dress before shrugging the fabric off into the rain. Both these men had seen my tits, and there was no use in being weird about it.
“I look like I just got out of prison.” I laughed, tugging on the sweatshirt that fell past my knees. My usual birthing attire consisted of throwaway black leggings and an off-shoulder tee, but this screamed,I slept the night in the county jail.A strange message to send before adding,By the way, I am here to birth your baby.
“A sexy ass prison,” Nathem smirked, shuffling his fingers through his hair before taking the cigarette from Wolfe’s hand in a slow drag.
“Where is your not-so-better half?” Nathem’s eyes shifted to the shadows, then back at me.