Page 7 of Paw Prints in the Sand (The Northern Shifters #2)

Chapter Seven

Sunset Beach, OR

M y head whips around when Ethan’s orange-blossom scent wafts towards me, and a moment later, he appears from behind a copse of trees. His wolf form is considerably smaller than mine. Lithe, though. I bet he’s fast. I can’t help but admire his snowy white fur, with a few light grey patches on his chest and paws. He’s as beautiful in his wolf form as he is surfing the waves.

Even now, his eyes sparkle with that mischievous glint that acknowledges my staring for longer than a passing look. But I’m pretty sure that’s okay now since I had his tongue in my mouth the other night.

Ethan nods his head in a ‘follow me’ gesture before picking up his bag with his mouth and running deeper into the woods. I follow suit and catch up to him quickly. He weaves in and out of the trees with a familiarity and grace that’s hotter than it should be.

Several miles later, Ethan begins to direct us closer to the coast again, and we eventually slow down. Once the scent of the ocean is strong, we come to a stop, and Ethan shifts back. I catch glimpses of his beautiful suntanned skin but force myself to turn away. I shift back and quickly shove on the clothes I’d packed in my bag for the party. With limited options for a Halloween costume, I’m wearing a pair of black jeans, a plain black t-shirt and a Ghostface mask—to most likely carry around since it hinders talking and drinking.

When I turn around, I burst out laughing. Ethan is also in head-to-toe black, the exception being a cloak with an inner red lining. He grins broadly at me after stuffing some plastic vampire teeth in his mouth.

“Oh, one sec,” he says, although the vampire teeth cause him to speak with a bit of a lisp. “There,” he adds, having squirted some fake blood to drip down his chin.

“Very scary,” I reply.

“Shit, I should have kissed you first; now my mouth is all red with too many teeth,” Ethan garbles.

I step towards him and dip my head like I’m going to kiss him, but at the last second, I tilt his chin to the side and press a soft kiss over the pulse point of his neck.

“I thought I was the vampire!”

I nip gently at the skin there before stepping back. Admiring his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, I feel an odd sense of accomplishment that I’m able to fluster him a little.

He takes my hand and interlocks our fingers, tugging me presumably in the direction of the party. It suddenly occurs to me that aside from during the three weeks I ‘went out’ with Sarah Facer when we were thirteen, I’ve never held someone’s hand before. Not like this. It feels nice, having his rough hand in mine.

When we reach the house that looks to be filled with fifty-plus wolf shifters, I expect him to let go, but he doesn’t. He just squeezes my hand and holds on tighter.

Ethan leads us up some steps to a wraparound porch. The beach house appears to be a large two-story with wooden cladding that’s been painted a pale blue. It’s very… Wisteria Lane.

“Sup Carter,” a few voices shout over to us.

“Carter?” I whisper in Ethan’s ear.

“Ethan Carter, most of my pack call me Carter.” He says hello and waves to them but continues on towards the front door.

Nearby speakers pump out Titanium by David Guetta as we weave around people to reach the kitchen. I get a few curious glances, but evidently the fact I’m here with Ethan means I get the benefit of the doubt. I’m not sure shifters in my pack would be so easily appeased.

Americans really love Halloween. The entire house is covered in some kind of synthetic webbing with various-sized rubber spiders trapped within it. The kitchen island has a pumpkin that’s been carved to look like a wolf; it’s glowing orange eyes are kind of eerie.

“Drink?”

I nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles. Ethan pours us both beer from a keg into red solo cups.

“I didn’t realise you actually drank out of these; I thought it was just something in TV shows and films.”

“What do you drink out of at parties?”

“Our parties are usually bring your own, so we mostly drink from our tinnies,” I explain.

“Tinnies?”

“Beer cans or cans of whatever. Most of the girls usually bring cans of pre-made cocktails or bottles of wine.”

“Well, this house is owned by our Alpha, although he doesn’t live here. And he’s loaded, so it’s usually stocked with drinks and food. It’s become a year-round party spot.

“Come on.” Ethan tugs me deeper into the house and into what appears to be a games room. There’s a pool table and table tennis set up with some sofas in the corner. The music is a lot quieter here, and I can finally hear myself think. “Better?” he asks.

“Much. Thanks.” Ethan smiles at me, and a few seconds later, it registers to me that this guy I’ve only known for a couple of days is able to read me like a book. Does my face make it that obvious that I don’t like crowds and loud music? God, he must think I’m really boring.

“Hey, why do you look sad all of a sudden?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing. Sorry. I’m good.” I plaster a smile on my face, but Ethan doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Wanna play ping pong?”

It turns out Ethan is pretty sucky at table tennis. It’s oddly reassuring that he’s not great at everything, and it’s kind of cute how he keeps getting all huffy when he loses.

“Do you play this professionally or something?” he asks after I beat him for the fifth game in a row.

I bark out a laugh. “No. I like playing tennis and badminton, though.”

“—Wow. Ethan Carter at a pack party, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Ethan bristles before turning to face a guy and a girl who’ve just stepped into the room. The guy’s deep, melodic voice doesn’t quite match his appearance. He’s small, around five-foot-six, I’d guess, with short dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. The girl—or woman, I should say—stands a good few inches taller than him. She appears to be his opposite in every sense, with dark mahogany skin and a soft, friendly smile compared to his calculating gaze.

Her costume is a red hood with a picnic basket on her arm. I can’t help but appreciate the irony of dressing like Little Red Riding Hood at a wolf shifter Halloween party. He, on the other hand, has his face painted to look like a skull, which only adds to the menacing stare he has going on.

“Jay.” Ethan nods his head at him. “Hey, Janiyah.” He offers her a warm smile, and she steps forward to give him a quick hug.

“It’s good to see you, Eth,” she says before returning to Jay’s side.

“I didn’t know you’d be here. We can go.” Ethan rakes a hand through his hair.

“Don’t leave on my account. Who’s your friend?” Jay nods his chin in my direction.

“This is Sam; he’s visiting here from England.” I offer them both a closelipped smile, feeling awkward as fuck all of a sudden. You could cut the tension with a knife. Jay sniffs the air, and it seems to make him angry for some reason.

“A future Alpha, too. We do have a type,” Jay sneers at Ethan, who sighs heavily like they’ve done this dance before.

“We’re gonna go. It was good to see you, Janiyah. Bye, Jay,” Ethan says before tugging me towards the door.

“And he does what he does best, running the fuck away,” Jay says to our retreating backs. Ethan pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, and seems like he might reply, but then he just shakes his head and continues out of the house.

I follow Ethan in silence, the thumping bass of the music and the sounds of laughter fading into the background as we walk down a small path towards the beach.

Ethan nods hello to a few of the shifters who have congregated down here but keeps on walking until we reach an empty section of the beach.

“I’m really sorry about that. I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d known Jay would be here. He goes to college in Seattle; it didn’t cross my mind he’d have come home for a stupid Halloween party,” he huffs, clearly agitated. It looks weird on him. Ethan wears the tension like an ill-fitting suit that doesn’t belong in his wardrobe. He tugs off the cloak he was wearing and chucks it on the sand before sitting down on it. I join him but leave a gap because he seems like he needs some space.

“Want to talk about it?” I ask.

“Not especially.” He expels a heavy breath before continuing, “Jay’s my ex. We broke up nearly a year ago, and it was ugly.”

“He seems like an arse,” I comment.

“He’s not really. Or at least he didn’t used to be.”

“Ahh, I know the type.”

“You do?”

“My cousin, Noah. Most people think he’s a bit of a cunt, and he can be, but it’s mostly a front.” I can’t help but smile thinking about my prickly hedgehog of a cousin.

“I think… I think I made Jay that way, though.”

“He’s an adult. At a certain point, we have to grow up and stop blaming other people for our own circumstances and our own shitty choices,” I reply. Ethan shuffles closer to me and rests his head on my shoulder.

“You’re wiser than any eighteen-year-old has any business being. You know that, right?” I chuckle softly and wrap an arm around him. He snuggles in and lets out a deep breath, beginning to relax a little.

It’s dark on the beach, lit up only by the moon. The water glitters in the light, and we sit in silence as the sea sweeps back and forth along the sand in the reassuring, unabating way that it does.

“You can say no, obviously. And you probably should since tonight was such a bust. But, do you wanna come back to mine?” Ethan asks.

The blood in my veins appears to be battling it out for whether it wants to make me blush or give me an uncomfortable boner at the implication of his invitation.

“I do. But… you should probably know that I’ve never… And I leave tomorrow…” I stumble over my words, suddenly embarrassed by my inexperience.

“Oh. I mean, that’s not weird, you know? You’re only eighteen. And we don’t have to… do anything. Jesus, I’m not saying this right. What I mean is, there’s no pressure. If you wanna come over and make out on my couch, you can, or if you want to do more, that is another option. And if you want to go home and pretend this awful night never happened—also very valid.”

“You don’t have a bed?” I ask.

“What? Of course I have a bed?”

“You said we could make out on your couch. I’m not sure I want the first time I have sex to be on a couch. Reckon we could make it to the bed?”

I follow Ethan up three flights of stairs and into a small loft apartment. The main area is an open-plan kitchen and living room with two doors, which I assume lead to a bedroom and bathroom. The external walls are all exposed brick, and although the place is clean, it’s filled with stuff and looks very lived in.

“Want anything to drink?” Ethan asks.

“Just some water, please.” I smile and wander further inside, having a nosey while he gets out two bottles of water from the fridge.

There’s a cabinet next to where the TV is mounted with a few framed photographs. I pick up the nearest one to get a closer look.

“That’s my dad,” Ethan says, passing me the water. He must have rinsed his face because the fake blood that had dried on his chin earlier is gone.

“You look the double of him.”

“He was a bit taller and stockier than me, but other than that, yep.” I carefully return the photograph to its spot on the side. The next photo is of two boys around age eight.

“Is that you and Jay?”

“Mm,” he grunts. “I mostly lived with my dad until I was like six or so. Then, I had to go live with the pack and only got to visit him during school breaks. Jay was my neighbour. My first real friend, honestly.” Ethan’s voice is laced with a sadness that I wish I could wash away.

I place the photo and bottle of water down and turn to face Ethan, who’s looking up at me with those wide amber eyes of his. The tip of his pink tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and I reach out to rub my thumb over it.

Palming his cheek in my hand, I lean down and gently kiss his soft lips. He goes pliant immediately, which just seems to do it for me. My cock is already semi-hard in my jeans.

With his lips still fused to mine, Ethan walks us back until we reach the sofa. Nudging me to sit down, he straddles my lap and licks at the seam of my lips.

I welcome him into my mouth; he tastes like the beer we were drinking earlier, with hints of orange that are all him. A groan escapes me as he grinds his hips, pressing his erection into my own, both of us confined to our jeans.

“Is this okay?” he asks, breathlessly.

“More than okay.” I kiss him hard and dig my fingers into his bum, encouraging him to flex his hips, but all it does is serve to make me more frustrated.

“This isn’t working for me,” I say. He misunderstands me and begins to stammer out an apology until I stand up with him in my arms and wrap his legs around my waist.

It’s a short walk to the bed and our mouths are fused the entire time, kissing, licking and biting each other’s lips until they’re red and swollen.

I lay Ethan out on his mattress as he pants heavily.

“Can I?” I ask, reaching for the button on his jeans. He nods quickly and gazes through hooded eyes as my fingers undo the fastening, pull down his zipper and slide them over his hips and off his legs.

He’s wearing a tight pair of blue boxer briefs, and his hard cock is trying to escape them. I thought I’d be more nervous than I am, but my brain is quiet for once. It’s like my instincts have kicked in, and I’m going with what feels good and what will make Ethan feel good. It’s simpler than I’d built it up to be in my mind.

Ethan shuffles further up the bed, and after I’ve shucked off my own jeans and t-shirt, I join him. Lying on my front between his legs, I kiss and bite along the inside of his thigh until I reach his groin. I take a deep inhale, and my cock spurts out pre-cum in response. He smells musky and masculine with that ever-present orange blossom that lingers beneath it all. He smells incredible. Not like mine, but he can be for tonight.

His underwear is in my way, so I tug it off, exposing his dick that’s as perfect and flawless as the rest of him. He’s circumcised, which I probably should have expected since he’s American, but I’m suddenly not totally sure how things work when you don’t have a foreskin.

I figure that I surely can’t go wrong by putting it in my mouth, so I lick a stripe up his shaft before sucking on the tip, and he bucks his hips.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, but I continue undeterred. Taking as much of him into my mouth as I can, I use my hand to stroke the rest of him, letting my spit travel down to make it smoother. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he pants. I arch an eyebrow at him but carry on until he rakes his fingers into my hair and tugs me off him. “Fuck, Sam, I’m gonna come really quick if you keep doing that.”

“I thought that’s what we were working towards?” I reply, my words sounding oddly slurred.

“Is that where you want me to come? In your mouth?” My brain sort of short circuits at that. While I do very much like the thought, a mental image of me on my back with Ethan coming inside me fills my head, and I’m surprised I’m still able to blush with how much blood is currently south.

“No… not in my mouth.”

Ethan reaches a hand down and strokes his cock a few times, not breaking eye contact with me. “Where do you want me to come?”

I gulp, and his gaze flicks to my throat as it bobs. Unable to look him in the eye as I say it, I crawl up his body and hide my face in his neck when I speak. “Inside me?”

Ethan’s hand strokes down my back reassuringly and slips beneath the band of my boxers I still have on. His fingers brush against my crease, and as he gets close to my hole, he whispers, “Here?”

I nod, my face still smushed against his neck and let out a super fucking embarrassing whimper. Ethan pushes my boxers down, exposing me. He presses his index finger to my lips and tells me to suck on it. I swirl my tongue around the digit, coating it in my saliva before he tugs it free and reaches around to my hole again. He doesn’t push inside right away, first rubbing his wet finger over my rim and kissing me at the same time.

“Stop teasing me,” I mumble against his lips, and he laughs.

“These are in the way,” he says, tugging at my boxers. I flop to the side of him to remove them as he leans over me to grab something from his bedside table. He roots around in the drawer for a moment before sitting back with a bottle of lube in his hand. “We’re gonna need this. Get comfy in the middle of the bed,” he instructs. I do as I’m told and stroke myself a few times because my dick physically aches with the need to come.

Ethan grabs a pillow and places it under my hips. I feel exposed, but his pupils are so blown out as he stares at me that it’s hard to feel self-conscious. Getting comfortable between my legs, he takes me by surprise when he sucks one of my balls into his mouth.

“Holy shit,” I sputter, scrunching my eyes shut. That feels… I don’t even know how that feels. But I need him to do it again. Apparently able to read my mind, he does do it again, only this time he swirls his tongue all around it, and I think I actually die for a second.

Clearly determined to outdo himself, Ethan moves lower and presses his tongue to my hole, little kitten licks teasing my rim in a way that feels like nothing else I’ve experienced. I can’t decide if I want to squirm away or have his face pressed to my arse permanently. Then his tongue breaches me, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. At least if I die like this, I’ll die happy.

I vaguely return to consciousness when I hear the cap on the bottle of lube. Ethan coats two fingers in the silky liquid before pushing them through the tight ring of muscle. I’ve tried several times to do this to myself, but I can never quite get the angle right. Ethan gets it right away. The pads of his fingers brush over that spot that always manages to evade me unless I use a toy.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Very, very, okay.”

He uses his other hand to stroke my cock, which has remained hard this entire time, and the combination has me on the brink of orgasm in less than a minute.

“Fuck. Shit. Stop,” I say, panicked.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Ethan removes his hands from me right away, a stricken expression on his face.

“No, shit. Sorry. I was like, two strokes from coming, and I don’t want to come yet.” Ethan laughs and looks relieved before crawling back up my body and kissing me. A vague thought crosses my mind that maybe I should be grossed out by where his mouth was moments ago, but it actually just turns me on.

I reach between our bodies and stroke Ethan’s cock until he moans. With my other hand, I grab the lube from next to me and squirt, probably too much, onto my palm before using it to coat his length.

“Are you sure you want to? With me?” he whispers.

“I’m sure,” I reply. But then it suddenly occurs to me that maybe he doesn’t… “Unless you don’t want to. We don’t have to,” I babble.

He stares down at his slick, throbbing cock in my hands and says, “Does it look like I don’t want to?”

I let go of him and wipe my lube-covered hand over my own length, the tip swollen and angry from being teased for so long.

“At first, it’ll be better if you hold your knees back; better angle,” Ethan explains, and I do as he suggests.

When he lines himself up with my hole, and I can feel his cockhead right there , I take a deep breath and bear down as he pushes in. It’s a lot. He’s smaller than me but bigger than the plug I have back home, and the stretch feels like it’s almost too much.

Ethan leans down and kisses me hard, distracting me from the slight sting as he slowly pushes all the way inside. He stills, giving me a few moments to adjust to the sensation before gently rocking his hips.

And that. That is the feeling I’ve been chasing. Being so full and overwhelmed that I can’t even think. As Ethan picks up speed, his cock gliding in and out of me, filling me and pegging my prostate on each upward thrust, I moan obscenely and fist the bedsheets.

“Fuck, Ethan. So good. Fuck,” I garble incoherently.

Ethan groans, “Jesus, Sam, you feel amazing. So fucking tight.” I preen at the praise despite having no control whatsoever over how tight my arse is and being vaguely aware that it’s just something people probably say during sex.

“Turn around and hold the headboard,” Ethan says, pulling out of me. When I’m in position, my brain suddenly starts replaying all the porn I’ve watched, and I arch my back as he lines himself up behind me.

“So fucking hot, Sam. You’ve no idea.” In one deep thrust, he enters me again and then sets a rhythm that has me clinging to the bed for dear life. He reaches a hand around and jerks me off, his other gripping my hip bruisingly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna… gonna come. Fuck,” I blurt, moments before my orgasm rocks through my entire body, and my release spurts all over Ethan’s hand and the sheets below.

With the remaining ropes of cum still spilling from me, Ethan’s thrusts begin to stutter, and then he’s as deep inside me as he can get, his cum marking me from the inside. He swears, and his body continues to jerk as he rides out his release. We’re both panting and breathing heavily when he slumps against my back.

Ethan strokes a hand down my thigh soothingly as he pulls out. It’s not the nicest sensation, his softening cock slipping from my body, but a small price to pay for how good it felt before. We both collapse onto our backs, covered in sweat and cum.

“You okay?” Ethan asks as he snuggles into my side and rests his cheek against my chest.

“I now get why fuckin' someone’s brains out is a phrase.”

Ethan laughs softly, his breath tickling my nipple.

“Was it… good for you, too?”I ask.

My question causes him to sit up and look at me like I’m a moron. “That was fucking incredible, dumbass.” I grin and tug him back down into my arms.

After we’ve had a perfunctory shower, we crawl back into the sex-covered sheets and fall asleep, heavy-limbed and sated.

“I can feel you starin’ at me,” I mutter sleepily with my eyes still shut.

Ethan runs a finger along my nose. “You have the cutest freckles.” I peek one eye open at him and can't fight my smile at his gorgeous, cheery face. Nobody should be that fresh-faced as soon as they wake up."Oh god, and these," he says, poking the tip of his finger into my dimpled cheek. I turn my face and nip at the offending finger.

“You’re a mornin' person, aren’t you?” I ask.

“When there’s a hot naked man in my bed, I am.” He winks.

“What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“Ugh. I need to go soon. Gotta check out of the apartment and be at the airport by noon,” I groan, not wanting to leave the warm cocoon of Ethan’s bed.

“I’ll go make us some coffee.” Ethan leans over and kisses me softly before going in search of some underwear. He has a great bum, I think, ogling it in the tight pair of briefs he puts on.

I’m scrubbing a hand over my face when there’s suddenly yelling coming from the next room. I shoot out of bed to see what’s wrong, stark-bollock-naked, to find Ethan shouting, and—of fucking course—Noah sitting on the kitchen counter, grinning like this is the greatest day of his life. It probably is.

Grabbing Ethan by the shoulder, I explain that the intruder is, in fact, a relative of mine.

“You,” I point at Noah, “Can get the fuck out. I’ll deal with you in a minute.” Noah shrugs before vanishing from right where he was sitting.

“What. The. Fuck?” Ethan spits out, face drained of colour like he’s seen a ghost.

“I’m so, so sorry. He’s such a dick,” I groan.

“How did he just… disappear?”

“It’s pretty much his party trick. I’ll be right back; I really don’t wanna discuss my cousin while I’m naked in your kitchen.” Ethan nods, still looking shell-shocked, while I dash back to his bedroom and gather my clothes off the floor.

When I return, Ethan’s got as far as putting his coffee maker on.

“Given I can literally turn into an animal, I shouldn’t be so shocked that a witch can, like, vanish into thin air, but it’s kind of freaky.” He passes me a mug of coffee.

“Yeah, it’s pretty rare. I actually don’t know any other witches who can do it, so it’s understandably disconcertin’,” I try to reassure him.

We drink our coffee and cuddle on Ethan’s sofa for what feels like no more than ten minutes when my phone alerts me to the fact I really should be getting a move on.

“I’m sorry, I really gotta go.” I wince, feeling like a total piece of shit to be dashing off first thing after the amazing night we had.

Ethan just gives me a soft smile. “That’s okay. I’m glad you came to my little surf shop this week.”

“Me too.” I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to his mouth before pulling away. “Thank you for the lessons and for… you know. Last night.” My face must be crimson.

“You’re welcome, believe me.” Ethan chuckles.

Once I’ve grabbed the rest of my things, I kiss Ethan goodbye and tell him to text me if he’s ever in England. When I exit the main door to the building, I find Noah leaning against the wall.

“Don’t. Fuckin’. Say. A word,” I bite out.

He pretends to wipe tears from under his eyes. “My lil’ boy is all grown up,” he says in a fake Southern drawl. I shove him into the empty road and stomp off as he cackles behind me.