Page 12 of Someone Else's Wolf

"Warned you off? What are you talking about?"

I woke up a little. I definitely shouldn't get between partners; I knew that much. I didn't need to start any trouble. But I'd thought he knew that already. "She just doesn't like me, I guess. She just wants to look after you."

He huffed. "I can look after myself."

He was a big softie, and he couldn't. "I know."

"Don't say it like that. Ican."

"Mm." I snuggled back against him. It felt so good to be held. My stomach was doing that little shuddery thing again. I closed my eyes and reveled.

He kissed the side of my neck again, gently. His sigh was regretful. "I've got to get up. Even if you aren't hungry, I am."

I moved, grumbling a little. "Should I shower and change?" We'd both cleaned up and used the bathroom after round two, but I didn't really feel like bothering with more just now. At the moment, I couldn't see much point in dressing.

He gave me an affectionate look. "You're fine like that. But I've got to eat something, or I'll keel over."

Ah, yes, that famed wolf metabolism. Well, he'd certainly earned it.

I followed him to the kitchen, and we snacked. He kept promising to cook for me, but he was too hungry to wait, so he tore chunks off a loaf of bread, hacked bits of cheese apart, dug into some yogurt, and ate fresh figs all while sounding regretful about not having a five-course meal prepared for me.

"It's fine." I nibbled at the same things he was devouring. I wasn't nearly as hungry. I felt elegant and sensual, like a statuesque creature worthy of marble statues, while I ate figs and cheese with him. It really did wonders for a guy's self-confidence, being with this sex god.

"You're really good at sex, you know that?"

His smile was wry. "Thanks. I was aware."

Ha! Got me."The 'shy and nervous' thing was all an act, huh?" I poked him gently in the side with a chunk of bread. "You could've fooled me."

His smile broadened. "Could've? I did. Why? Do you like arrogant guys more?"

My turn for a cheeky grin. "I like this one."

He wrestled me into his arms and kissed me soundly. "What do you think, round three? If you've got the time," he breathed, his arms corralling me, his intense green eyes pinning me where I stood. "What do you say?"

"What do you think, hot stuff?" I wrapped my arms around him and stretched up into his kiss.

"Okay, then."

He pinched my ass and then scooped me back up and carried me to the bedroom, moving quickly. Once again, I loved the feeling of being so light in his arms. The tingling was starting all through me, a delicious, breath-held feeling of anticipation for the coming delights.

He was so good at this — at making me feel all man, and a hundred percent taken care of, and worth having. "You're so—" I clung to him as he carried me. "You're just so—"

"Shh." He kissed me quick and hard, then lowered me to the bed. "I've got you. See, I was right, you didn't need to get dressed."

I laughed, strangely close to tears and not knowing why. It shouldn't mean as much as it did. It was just sex, right?

#

"You sure you can't stay for breakfast?" It was the third time he'd asked me.

"Peter." I liked being asked. I liked his concern for me; it made me feel valued. Like this was more than awham, bam and get out before dawnevent to him. Not only had he been really considerate during sex, but he still was.

I'd have liked to stay for breakfast, but it was getting later and later. "I need to go home, shower, and change. We can't go in to work together, smelling like sex."

"Why not? They're not shifters. They wouldn't be able to tell." His smile was like a naughty little boy's, like he couldn't help trying to bargain for more, even though he knew better.

I snorted. "Believe me, they'd be able to tell. Are you gonna tell me I don't look like I've been fucked into next week?"