Heading upstairs to shower, I heard the alarm on Marina’s cell chime through her closed bedroom door. That was followed by a groan.
She had to frost the cake and get it finished. That had been the excuse I used for not taking her to my room and fucking her raw again the night before. I’d seen it in her eyes. She hadn’t believed me.
Yeah, I wouldn’t have believed me either, especially when my dick had been a thick, unmistakable outline in my jeans.
I couldn’t have sex with her again. No. NO! I needed to act normal, as if we’d had some fun, and now it was over. Talk. Do stuff. Clothed. It was the only way to make it through the full moon tonight without biting her and ruining her life.
I froze at the top of the stairs when I heard her coming out of her room. She wore a tank top—no bra—and a pair of red jean shorts that made me desperate to do all manner of dirty things to that ass of hers.
Don’t look anywhere but her eyes.
“Good morning.”
“Hi.” She looked surprised to see me. Slightly flustered.
“You going down to the kitchen?”
“Um, yeah. I need to finish up the cake.”
“Right. I’ll help.” What? What the fuck was I talking about? I knew jack shit about cakes.
“You will? Have you frosted a cake before?”
“Never,” I admitted. “But I’m a quick learner. Or I can entertain you while you frost.”
I could think of many ways to entertain her with frosting. All over her naked body.
Fuck. I groaned, and her eyes widened.
“Okay, Sergeant,” she said.
“Sergeant Major,” I corrected, watching her nipples go hard.
What did it? My rank? Or the bossy way I said it?
Either way, my mate had a thing for being dominated, which boded well for our future sex life… after she graduated, but at the moment made it hard for me to function.
I’d already jacked off twice last night, and this morning before my run to let off some steam, but I was still hard for her. My new permanent state.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower, and then I’ll join you.”
She nodded and cut past me. I took a Navy shower, in and out in two minutes, and I was dressed and in the kitchen within five. Total.
There, I poured us both a cup of coffee from the full pot Rob must’ve made before he went out to do chores. “How about I make you breakfast?”
Providing. That was something a wolf mate knew how to do. It should resonate for a human, too. Right?
Her dimpled smile confirmed my instinct. “I’d love that.” She moved with efficiency, pulling out a mixing bowl, butter and powdered sugar.
“What do you like?” I asked. “Pancakes? Eggs?”
“Whatever you’re having,” she said as she glanced at me over her shoulder.
“You’re an easy one, huh?” I wanted to kiss the place where her neck met her collarbone. I wanted to get those red shorts off her hot little body.
No. Breakfast. Fuck!
“Give me a hint. What would make you moan in pleasure?”
Christ! Why are these things coming out of my mouth?
She had things to do. I needed to keep my hands off her and support her goals. In this case, I had to let her finish the cake.
“Pancakes, I guess. Or toast.”
“Pancakes, it is.” I was relieved to have direction. I was compiling my mental list: things that made Marina happy.
I rooted through my brother’s refrigerator and pantry for ingredients. There was a huge bag of blueberries in the freezer as if a bear shifter had been to visit, so I pulled that out, too. “You like blueberries in your pancakes?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.
“Yum. Yes.”
I wasn’t sure how she made the simplest of words sound so damn sultry.
I whipped up a bowl of pancake batter—me standing on one side of the huge island and her on the other—and put a package of bacon in a pan because my wolf needed meat with every meal. While I worked, Marina flitted around the kitchen like a goddamn butterfly. So colorful and bright. She was efficient in her movements, pulling out the cake layers from the fridge, the metal spatula things. Based on the size of the cake plate, the final product wasn’t going to be huge, but it would feed the twenty or so guests easily.
“I get that the...um, fling’s over. No worries from me.”
My wolf howled at me to say something, to tell her differently. But I couldn’t. I froze and stared.
She looked away. My lack of reply was just as telling as if I’d said the words aloud.
“I’m cool. Just, um… tell me more about you, Colton Wolf,” she declared, right before she stuck a finger of icing in her mouth.
My vision sharpened, telling me my eye color had probably changed. I blinked and looked away. My cock had punched out harder against my zipper. Fuck. I didn’t know if it was hearing my name on her lips or seeing those very same lips close around her finger and wishing it was my cock that did it. Probably both.