We’re running out of hours, and the restlessness inside me is driving my instincts fucking crazy. The overwhelming demand to make Elliott ours is alive in my blood, fueling my thoughts and emotions in a way that has me slightly concerned I’ll push too hard too fast and lose any forward traction we’ve gained.

We’ve all agreed that we’re in this for the long haul, so it doesn’t matter if it takes us another five years, as long as she’s by our side. We’ll be happy with that. Getting biology to take a back seat, however, isn't quite as easy.

Her scent has sweetened—the hints of vanilla smoothing out the tang of orange—and it’s like I’ve lost myself in her, just like the first time, all over again. She’s standing in front of the mirror in the massive bathroom, and I lean against the entry so I can study her as she gets ready. Brown hair falls in a cascade of waves nearly to her waist, the long slim lines of her legs tanned from the island sun. The white swimsuit she’s wearing must have been created by some sort of magic as it appears to have more skin-revealing cut-outs than should be physically possible to hold a garment together. Not that I’m complaining. Those little peeks at her body make my veins pulse with ferocious need that I’m forced to keep a tight leash on. She covered the top up with a light, fuzzy cropped sweater. Part of me wants to ask why she even bothered, but I have rare moments of brilliance, so I bite back the question. Something about the outfit reminds me of a naughty prima ballerina, and it suddenly doesn’t matter a damn bit what she’s wearing. Just that I can’t wait to take it off her.

“You’re drooling,” she simpers, drawing my eyes to the pouty lips glistening with a shimmery gloss she just applied.

Smug most definitely suits her.

“There’d be something wrong with me if I wasn’t. You look fucking incredible, honey bear.”

She recaps the gloss and places it in a bag on the counter. “So do you. Those green trunks really highlight the massive…” her gaze takes a leisurely stroll down my abs to my dick before rising to meet my stare with obvious amusement, “ muscles you have.”

My lips curve up, my ego enjoying the flattery even though the little minx is teasing me.

Stalking forward, I grip her hips, turn her around, and lift her onto the countertop. Her legs instinctively part, leaving space for me to step forward and close the distance between us. Soft fingertips skim over my collarbones and up my neck until they’re playing in my hair. I love the openness staring back at me. Right now, the walls she’s always kept so carefully constructed are nowhere to be found.

“I could show you just what I can do with all these muscles , Elle. Just say the word.”

I lean in and trail my nose along her neck, earning a quiet hum for my efforts.

“Aren’t we supposed to be meeting the others down at the beach?” she whispers, tilting her head to give me better access.

My fingers grip her hips tighter as the urge to bite grows unbearably strong. With ruthless efficiency, I fight it back and lock that shit down tight.

“They’ve almost got everything set up,” I murmur, letting my eyes drink her in. “I was sent here to escort you down.”

“Mmmm. Seems to me you’re not doing much escorting.”

“Can’t I want a minute alone with my girl?”

She fights back her grin. “Your girl, huh?”

“That’s what you are. Got a problem with that?”

“Hmm. Does that mean I have to wear cheesy jerseys with your names on the back and make a fool of myself when you score a goal?”

The thought of her sporting my jersey nearly decimates my control. “First of all, I play defense, so I don’t typically score goals. But you’re welcome to cheer me on any time you want when I throw some unlucky fucker into the glass.”

Her fingers run lazy circles along the buzzed hair on the back of my head. “Aggressive. I dig it.”

My growl is low and deep. “Then dig this… ”

Dropping kisses along her jaw, I slide my fingers up her thigh, dipping into the crease where her leg and body meet until I’m teasing along the material covering her pussy. I’m not surprised to find her wetness soaking through the fabric. Her perfume has been flooding the space since the moment she caught me ogling her.

“Raff…” she rasps.

“What do you need, honey bear? Tell your Alpha.”

I feel her harsh exhale against my cheek, the heat of her skin damn near burning me.

“Touch me.” My fingertips play against her concealed sex, and I grin when the smallest whimper escapes her lips. “ Fuck . Please, Alpha. I need your fingers inside me.”

“Like this?” I whisper against her lips, dipping my fingers under the edge of the suit and running them through her slick-drenched slit.

Her hips roll the slightest bit, seeking more of my touch. I could tease her—pull back and remove what she wants so desperately—but I don’t. I need to feel her come around just about any part of me right now, or I’m going to lose my shit.

“More,” she purrs, one hand releasing me to grip the edge of the counter.

I retreat just enough to run my eyes over her. With one hand wrapped around my neck and the other balancing herself against the cool marble, she leans back, which effectively tilts her hips up and into my waiting fingers. She looks like a fucking goddess, and I want to worship at her altar.

“Hang on, baby.” I spear two fingers into her pussy, watching her head fall back and her lips part in a moan.

Her wet heat coats my fingers, and goosebumps break out along her skin as I work them in and out of her. The sounds she’s making, these little mewls in the back of her throat, spur me on, my thumb pressing tight circles onto her clit. She’s close, her walls fluttering, attempting to grip down on me. Leaning forward, I lick up the column of her throat, tasting the sweat beading on her skin.

“Don’t stop, Raff. Please…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey bear.” My lips are touching hers, our foreheads pressed together.

Having her like this, watching her come undone, is a level of intimacy I never expected to experience with her. Now that I have, it’s like a drug I’ll never get enough of.

Her hips rock into my fingers as her hand slides out, knocking the bag off the counter. Everything crashes to the floor, but neither of us pay any attention. I’m too focused on making my girl come, and she’s too focused on her impending release to give a damn.

“That’s it, Elle. Come for your Alpha,” I bark.

Her eyes widen and breath catches… It’s the most goddamn beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

Her body goes taut as her fingers thread through my hair and pull my mouth to hers. My hand never stops moving. It just continues to fuck her through an orgasm so strong that her whine echoes off the bathroom walls. When her pussy finally stops contracting, she sucks in a ragged breath and her fingers loosen in my hair. I stroke her inner walls a couple more times before I reluctantly drag them out of her body, my dick so rock hard and weeping in my pants that I know I’ll never get enough of her.

Emerald eyes finally peek out from behind heavy lids—her pupils blown wide—and a pretty flush tints her cheeks and throat. Without hesitation, I raise my hand and suck one of my slick-coated fingers into my mouth. Her sweet flavor bursts on my tongue, and when I’ve licked the last of her off, I slowly remove my hand and offer her the other finger. She eagerly wraps her lips around the single digit, sucking her release from my skin.

“You are so goddamn sexy right now, I can’t stand it.”

“Says the man with a tent in his trunks so big I’m wondering how that stiff pole hasn’t burst right through the material.”

I choke out a laugh. “I’ll let you take care of that for me later. Right now, we better get down to the beach before the others revolt.”

She pushes out her bottom lip in a pout so perfect I nearly say fuck the others and take her right here against the counter.

“Fine.” She leans forward, dropping a kiss on my nose. “Help me pick up the mess I made, then we can head down.”

“You got it.”

Lifting her off the counter, I set her down and we make quick work of stuffing all of the girly shit back into her bag. She’s not paying much attention though. Instead, I see her sneaking peeks at my impossible-to-hide erection.

“Honey bear, if you don’t stop looking at it, we’re never getting out of this room.”

Her grin is wicked. “Tsk. Such a waste.”

My growl reverberates through the space as I stand and pull her against me. “You are such a troublemaker.”

She chuckles. “And you’re shocked by this?”

“Not really. More shocked at how much I like it.”

Her arms circle my waist as she leans back to study my face. “Tell me something else I don’t already know about you.”

A slew of funny stories rush through my mind. Times with my packmates. Hockey fights. A few embarrassing moments from my teen years. But then I think about the woman in my arms and want to show her I’m more than the jokester. More than the dumb hockey player she probably assumes I am.

“Back when I first started college, I was studying English. I wanted to be a high school English teacher.”

Her eyes go wide. “You wanted to teach asshole high school kids? You’re either brave or insane.”

My smile is warm as I remember back to freshman year. “Ms. Gingham was the first teacher who ever believed in me. She saw past the sarcasm and the jokes and pushed me to be better. To do better. Pretty sure that woman was a saint because I didn’t make it easy on her, but by the end of the year, I had aced her class and eventually became her T.A. I enjoyed reading and dissecting stories, even wrote a few of my own.”

“Do you still have them?”

I shake my head, grimacing. “They were awful.”

“Then how did you end up playing hockey?”

“I went to the local rink one day after class with a group of friends. Nixon was there, and I was watching him speed around the ice. I was young and cocky, and on a dare, I shouted that I could beat him in a race.”

“Oh boy.”

I grab her hand then lead her out of the room and down the stairs.

“Yeah. I should mention I’d never put on a pair of skates in my life.”

She laughs, following me through the kitchen and over to the patio door.

“Needless to say, he won, but I was a surprisingly good skater. Nix told me to meet him back at the rink the next day, and by the time hockey season rolled around, I was on the team. Nix supported me every step of the way even though he was already playing in the professional league at the time. Then I was drafted to a small minor league team known as the Ice Hogs. Played for them for about a year until I was called up to the Heat. Now, here I am.”

Her thumb brushes against the back of my hand, her eyes focused on the waves as we exit out to the pool deck.

“Do you ever regret making that change? Not being a teacher in order to pursue hockey instead?”

“Who said I made a change?”

She pauses, dragging me to a stop. “You still got your degree?”

I bring her hand up to my lips and drop a sweet kiss on the back. “I did. Even completed my student teaching between seasons. When I commit to something, I don’t give up. I see it through.”

Big eyes stare up at me with a look I can’t quite decipher.

“What is it, honey bear?”

“I’m glad you didn’t give up,” she whispers.

“Me too.”

The double meaning is clear, and it does something crazy to my heart that she finally seems to understand.

“Get the hell down here, jackass!” Nixon calls out impatiently.

Not that I can blame him. Our girl is like a drug that keeps us feening for more. He hasn’t had a hit in a while, so he’s probably having withdrawals.

“We’re coming,” I mutter, dragging her toward the others.

“Well… I mean, I did,” she quips. “Not so much you.”

My eyes meet hers in the dim light of dusk. “Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be coming, alright. You just point me to the preferred hole. I’ll even do all the work.”

Her laughter rings out, and my heart thumps painfully in my chest at just how perfect she is. We cross the sand, heading down to the beach where small lanterns are spread across the space to give the area a soft glow. At the far end is a large screen with a movie already queued up. A wide inflatable mattress covered in white sheets and rose petals is placed a small distance away, a slew of pillows added for comfort.

“What’s all this?” she asks quietly.

“We’re supposed to be helping you with your romance research, aren’t we?” Flint asks as we approach, shooting her a wide smile.

“Well, yeah, but?—”

Nixon steps up to us, taking her free hand and tugging her out of my hold. His nostrils flare when he catches a whiff of her satisfied scent, but other than a quick raise of his brow, he doesn’t comment on it. “No buts, baby doll. We’re men of our word, and we’re going to romance the fuck out of you.”

“Please tell me you mean that literally.”

Everyone groans as her giggle rings through the growing twilight. Nixon gets her settled on the bed while Flint, Sy, and I share a loaded look. We can all feel this almost static tension in the air. Eventually, this bubble we’ve created here has to pop. I can only hope that when it finally does, our pack manages to land on our feet with her as our center and the rest of our lives waiting for us.