Page 83 of Broken Bonds

A slow, bluesy, soul-rock kind of song comes on, and as I start grooving to it, my brain actually tunes in and processes the lyrics.

That’s when I realize it’s a sexy song about getting it on. Damned sexy song, too.

He must spot the moment I make the connection because his lips curl in a sexy smile. “JJ Grey & Mofro,” he says. “‘Slow, Hot & Sweaty’ from their Georgia Warhorse album.”

My mouth goes dry. “Uh, oh. Funny, never heard of them.”

His smile widens. “They were around long before you were born,” he says.

I have to moisten my lips because the sexy lyrics damned sure aren’t helping my self-control any. “I like it.”

“Jax always teases me that I should’ve been born in an earlier time because of my choice in music,” he says. “I’ll have to play you deep cuts from some of my favorite groups that you’ve also likely never heard of.”

“I’d like that.”

I’d like it even more if it was a soundtrack running in the background while we’re fucking each other’s brains out, but a guy can wish, can’t he?

“So, do you?” he asks.

I blink. “Um, do what?” Sexy time? Slide myself up and down your body? Beg you to never let me go?

“Want to take a night run with me?” he asks.

“Oh! Yes.” Fuck yeah, I want to see what the sexy elk looks like shifted. I know what bio-elks look like, but I’ve never seen one up close and personal. And I’ve never run with anything but wolves from my own pack because of—well, you know all the damned reasons, which can be boiled down to the two words “Randolph Sterling.”

I climb out of his lap and he stands. I finally process, naked like this, just how massive a man he is. I’m 5’-10” and he’s damned near a whole foot taller than me.

I also quickly stand because I realize that his standing has put his cock right at my mouth level, and it’s too tempting for me not to tackle him and have at him again. He tasted spicy and warm, like chai, like cinnamon, like forev?—

Nope.

I shut that thought down because I don’t want to fuck myself, fuck my heart—fuck up my life any worse than it already is.

He climbs out of the tub and grabs towels from a short cabinet I hadn’t spotted until now. He starts to hand me one but I shake my head. “Naw, it’s okay.” I shift and shake myself, making him laugh.

“I try to do that when I’m shifted and I’ll end up twisting my head off my body,” he jokes as he towels off. Then he hangs it up on a hook on the wall above the cabinet and steps out from under the overhang. I hadn’t moved from next to the hot tub and, as I watch, he languidly stretches his arms over his head, cracks his neck, stretches his body and legs, then drops to all fours.

And my jaw is left gaping as I watch him smoothly become a huge fucking elk. I don’t know if that’s how big they get as bio-animals or not, but he’s…well, he’s massive.

And he has one hell of a gorgeous… rack.

Even shifted, I can see the way his lips quirk, an obvious smile. Then he snorts, tips his head, and heads off down the trail.

I leap from the concrete pad onto the ground to follow, first trotting, then running to keep up. I realize he’s not even running, more a galloping lope that’s got to be slow for him, but with his long legs he’s covering the ground with a fraction of the steps I have to take.

I watch his gorgeous ass—yes, even as an elk it’s gorgeous, okay?—ahead of me and the sound of his hooves hitting the dirt feels like it matches my racing pulse.

“This way,” I hear before he takes a turn into a darker section of thicker woods, and I realize he didn’t speak aloud but mentally.

Oh, cool. I didn’t know other shifter races could talk to each other. I could always understand my close family, obviously, and sometimes other pack members I knew well, but again the whole “my father’s an asshole” thing meant I never got to run with others.

He glances back at me, playfully snorts, and picks up speed. Now I can stretch out and really run, flying across the ground as I keep up, and I hear him laughing as we cover the distance.

Now that I’m paying attention I do faintly smell his scent along the trail, along with cows, and wish I could stop and throw myself on the ground and roll around in it.

In his scent, duh.

But that would be…weird. Wouldn’t it?