Page 21 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

A soft, contented sound escapes her, and a tiny shudder runs over her body before she snuggles further into my torso and lap, arms tightening around me.

She breathes deeply, and I caress her as I open a browser tab, making sure to continue soothing her and taking care of her even though I’m working .

I click open an email from our contractor—something about the flooring option we picked being out of stock or backordered—when Sarina speaks, voice hesitant, like a newborn baby deer taking its first steps. “Sebby?”

“Yes, Little Rogue?”

“Are you ever going to…” She clears her throat and brings her arms in towards her chest, fumbling with the sleeves of my sweater and wringing her hands together through the fabric. Her eyes dart around the office, avoiding mine. “I mean, you said—”

I grab her chin and lift her face. “Look at me,” I command.

Sarina’s big brown eyes lock onto mine.

“Am I ever going to what?”

Her tongue darts out and wets her lips as her breath trembles. “You said my desires match yours, but you haven’t— We haven’t…” She shakes her head and lowers her gaze, breaking our eye contact once more. “Never mind.”

She tries to cower away from me by hiding herself against my chest, to conceal the vulnerability and lack of confidence in her aura, but I don’t let her.

Sarina’s usual determination is sexy, but I want all of her—the feisty female who challenges me in every way and the softer side she shows no one else.

I want her to trust me with not only her body and pleasure, but with her heart and pain.

I want her to know she can come to me for anything she needs, that I am a safe place for her.

Especially if it’s about something I said or did.

My brow raises, and I grip her chin harder. “But we haven’t fucked yet?”

She tenses and her lashes lift, round eyes widening.

“That’s what you were going to say, right? You want to know why I haven’t fucked you yet?” My lips twitch with a quiet chuckle. “How am I supposed to fuck you when I keep having to punish you?” I tease.

I brush her hair away from her face, and a soft blush spreads across her high cheekbones. I kiss each one, letting my lips linger there, soaking in the feel of her soft skin, her scent, and the way her breath trembles whenever I kiss her.

“There have been other opportunities, though,” she counters. “I haven’t been naughty every time we’ve been together.”

“True,” I agree, pressing more kisses to her face between my words. “But I have my reasons for waiting to fuck you. ”

“And what are those reasons?” Her voice is like a wisp of warm air floating through the sky on a winter day.

My kisses trail up her cheek to her ear. “You have to earn the privilege of being fucked, Baby Girl.”

Her head angles to the side, and she bares her neck to me. “How do I earn it?” she asks.

My lycan growls his approval in my mind, and my dick threatens to harden again from the subtle act of submission.

I smile, and she shivers as my lips tickle and tease her ear. “By letting me find you again.”

She jerks away from me, frowning. “But we don’t know how long it will be until then.”

“All the more reason for you to let me find you. Because the sooner I find you…”

“The sooner we can be together,” she finishes.

“Exactly.”

Her eyes turn glassy as they scan my face, and she nods, throat bobbing.

She leans forward against my body again and buries her nose into my chest, brushing the skin exposed by my V-neck shirt.

She hugs herself, knees curling up towards her stomach.

Her eyes close as she fills her lungs with my scent, and I wrap my arm tight around her as I once again turn my attention to my work.

Sarina stretches in my lap, a sleepy groan escaping her, and I blink my eyes open, staring down at where she lies curled up against me, asleep. I sit up straighter, grunting through my grogginess and sluggishness, and reach for the mouse to wake up the computer screen and check the time.

“Shit.” I sigh, slump back against the ultra-comfortable chair, and rub my face to wipe the sleep away. “I wanted to be home for dinner tonight.”

Sarina rests her chin on my chest and gazes up at me with half-asleep eyes. “Why?” She stifles a yawn.

“It’s Christmas Eve. ”

“Oh.” She pushes herself into a seated position, stretching sleepily. “I didn’t realize it was Christmas Eve. We don’t celebrate Christmas, so I don’t keep track of it.”

“I know it’s not normal for werewolves, but with us being so close to the human towns and relying so much on their tourism, we’re more aware of it. It’s more about being with our family and the spirit of giving to each other than anything else, though.”

“I’m sorry I made you miss dinner.”

I wave off her apology and settle my hands on her hips. “It’s fine. We don’t do anything special on Christmas Eve, but I have some gifts I need to wrap, and I like to be at home with my family.”

“When I’m with my family, we celebrate the winter solstice—the longest night of the year. We stay up and tell stories under the light of the moon and the stars, and we remember those who came before us.”

I stroke her sides as she speaks, imagining the picture she paints. “That sounds beautiful. And peaceful.”

A soft, serene smile graces her lips. “It is.”

“Where are your parents?” I ask.

“Far away.”

“That’s somehow simultaneously specific and vague.”

She huffs out a noise I think is supposed to be a laugh, but other than that she doesn’t respond.

“When will you see them again?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Whenever we’re done here, I guess.”

I tilt my head to the side. “How did you end up here?”

“We were doing some work for another pack. Helping them with…” She exhales, shaking her head. “Our intel led us here.”

“Your intel?”

She presses her lips together and glances down at her sleeve-covered hands, eyes closing for a moment before she lifts them to mine again. “I should let you get back to Crescent Lake,” she says, getting to her feet and grabbing her jeans from the floor.

I stand too, leaning over the desk as I shut down the computer, trying to ignore her abrupt change in subject. She pulls her pants on, then zips up my sweater, leaving it on as she picks up her own .

“Really?” I cross my arms and widen my stance.

“It’s comfy. And you stole my dress,” she points out.

I lift one finger, chuckling. “Nonono. I stole a strip of your dress. You’re taking my whole sweater.”

Sarina doesn’t respond or react to my attempt of lightening the mood, save for the slight twitch of her lips hinting at her amusement. She pulls her transport stone from her pocket and tosses it into the air. Catching it with one hand, she winks at me. “Merry Christmas, Sebby.”

She disappears from my office, leaving me staring at the empty, lonely room. My jaw clenches as I stare at the spot she vacated. I whirl towards the desk, slamming my hand down onto it. The brief physical pain does nothing to ease my inner frustrations.

It’s been an unspoken agreement between us that I won’t ask her about her past, her family, or the work she and her nomadic group do as they travel from pack to pack, helping those who need it, but I can’t help the irritation rippling through me every time she brushes me off or changes the subject.

I never push, though. That’s not me. As much as I want to know about her, as much as I want her to trust me, I recognize that pushing her to tell me things she doesn’t want to or isn’t ready to isn’t how I gain that trust.

I grab my keys and wallet, murmuring, “Merry Christmas, Little Rogue,” and leave the office to head home.