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I certainly wasn’t one to complain about getting to enjoy my wife’s body more. But I was starting to get genuinely concerned about some of her behavior out of the bedroom as well. It wasn’t so much that she was being aggressive or violent. Marley was more than capable of managing her reactions, even with the new ones she was having to the pheromones when living with a pack of wolves. She still couldn’t smell them the way I could, but it wasn’t hard to see the effects of them on her mood.
I chuckled, smoothing some of her hair away from her face as I helped pull her waistband back into place. “Flirting?” I asked. “Who was flirting?”
“As if you don’t know,” she said sullenly.
“Usually, I do,” I said. “But this time, you’ve got me stumped.”
She still had her wits about her enough to keep herself from being too cranky or nasty with me—or with someone else when they got too close to me or gave me signs of flirtation. But even when the flirtation was slight or unintended, I could almost bank on Marley cornering me in an empty dorm room or closet for a quickie. If we couldn’t steal a few moments for ourselves during the day, then she would be downright insistent on getting my attention in the dead of the night.
She drew in a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips. “The lady on the phone. I heard you talking to her.”
It took me a few minutes to remember who I’d even talked to on the phone. My mind was still swimming with the image of her eyes rolling back in her head and the feeling of her clenching around me and the sensation of my still half-hard cock hanging out of my pants.
I tucked myself back into my sweats and sat down, facing her. When I finally remembered, I gave her an incredulous look.
“Wait, do you mean the social worker? From the family court thing?” I asked.
She had the good grace to look a little sheepish, her already flushed skin growing pinker. “I misread it, didn’t I?”
“I made a dad joke, and she laughed—I hardly think that’s flirting. Honestly, I think the laugh was even a pity laugh,” I said.
Marley hid her face in her hands and groaned, her more rational parts seeming to return to her. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m trying really hard to keep myself in check, but sometimes it’s so hard. It’s almost like it’s…”
“Instinct?” I finished, giving her a bit of a sly smile. “Like you have a wild animal inside you that’s trying to get out and run the show? Like at times, you need to be a touch over-the-top and a little overprotective because your biology is forcing you?”
“I see what you’re doing, and I don’t appreciate it,” she grumbled.
I chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “I’m just teasing you,” I said. “I only mean that I hope you can extend a little more understanding to some of my past overprotective, somewhat controlling behavior. It’s not that I don’t think highly of you; it’s that the wolf in me sees threats everywhere.”
“It sucks,” she said, pouting adorably.
“It does sometimes,” I agreed. “Other times, it means we get to have really hot sex in a garden shed.”
She snorted a little laugh and let her head fall back against the wall. I came and sat next to her.
She took my hand and squeezed it in hers. “Everyone’s going to know what we did in here,” she said.
“Yeah. At least anyone with a shifter’s sense of smell,” I said with a shrug.
“That leaves all of what, six people? Who won’t immediately be able to tell?”
“Soon enough, you’ll know who’s fucking who, too,” I said. “It’s not like it’s a secret that you and I do what husbands and wives do. Besides, you’re leaving soon, so I’ll be the one taking most of the heat.”
“I think I’m more embarrassed about the fact that we did it out here. I mean, what are they going to think about me?”
“They’re going to think you’re a shifter in a rut, which you are,” I said. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. From what I’ve heard from some of these new shifters, a little semi-public tryst between husband and wife isn’t going to turn their stomach.”
She nodded and smiled over at me. “You’re so nice to me,” she said sweetly.
“Well, you make it easy,” I said. “What with how gorgeous and perfect you are.”
“Alright, let’s get up and face the music, I guess. If Travis teases me, I’m going to add a quarter to the jar.”
“I must say, the ass-kicking jar is my new favorite thing,” I said, grinning. “I’m greatly looking forward to when you can shift and kick Travis’s ass. It’s going to be quite the show.”
“Right?” She stood up on wobbly legs.
I followed suit, exhausted but happy. Not only because I was getting more sex than I’d ever gotten in my life, but because, aside from this new quirk manifesting itself in my wife, the rest of her transition was going incredibly smoothly. It was nice to have some of the worry about her complications taken care of. I was happy that her transition wasn’t going as horribly as Travis’s had gone.
