We settled into an easy sway. “You’re very good at this,” I praised, letting my fingertips climb up his body and lacing them behind his neck. “Are you secretly a dance instructor, or maybe an escort for desperate omegas with a need to impress their friends?”
His laughter was tantalizingly warm on my neck as he brought his strong hands to the small of my back. Splayed like that, I wondered if he could entirely encircle my waist with them. “There are no other omegas. There’s only you.”
I wanted to make some sassy comment about what a charmer he was, with his sexy accent and his smooth lines, but with his rugged scent in my nostrils, his body pressed to mine, I found I didn’t want to make a joke. Guy was so genuine, so…real. All my fantasies come to life in one flesh-and-blood man.
He was watching me so intently, then brought his head down, close enough that when he spoke, I felt his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You’re smiling. Tell me what you are thinking?” he asked in a gravelly whisper.
With my lowered inhibitions, there was no warning alarm blaring in my head to keep my thoughts to myself. I was a car with no brakes, careening toward a cliff, and once the words were out, there would be no taking them back. “I’m thinking about you, in bed beside me,” I whispered, turning my head to the side to kiss his throat, my tongue darting out for the briefest taste.
His breath caught, and I felt him harden against my hip. There was no disguising what my words had done to him. “Fable…” he groaned. His fingers tightened briefly on me, almost to the point of pain, but then I felt him try to peel me off him. He went to take a step back, but I wouldn’t let him. I went up on tiptoes and clung to him.
“Are you telling me you haven’t thought about it?” I asked point blank.
He shook his head, eyes shut tight. “I didn’t say that, but this is not the appropriate place to discuss it.”
“We’re just dancing. Nothing inappropriate about that.” Except I’d molded my body to his, and every whisper of space between us was gone. We weren’t even swaying to the music anymore. With my hands tangled in his hair, I drew his mouth to mine. The kiss was chaste, far tamer than what I really wanted to do with him, but I still felt it all the way down to my DNA.
My pounding heart did nothing to clear my head. In fact, it was quite the opposite, pickling my brain with booze. I should not have had that much to drink. Unfortunately, Guy seemed to have noticed the same thing.
He smoothed the hair back from my forehead, his expression one of tender concern instead of the barely controlled lust from before. “Come on, I’m taking you home.” And I had a bad feeling he didn’t mean to help me live out my wildest fantasies.
8
Guy
Thedrivebacktothe resort was silent. The car was just as cramped for me as ever, but I barely noticed it. My entire attention was on Fable in the passenger seat. He was staring at me, nearly vibrating with tension. My beaver was wary, trying to understand the shift in events. We’d been having fun, and now suddenly, Fable seemed angry about something. Was it because I’d suggested we go back?
Once I pulled into the parking spot, I tried to round the hood to open the door for Fable, but he beat me to it, slamming it behind him. He stomped past me, swaying, heading in a zigzag down the path toward our cabin. “Fable,” I called after him, buthe didn’t slow his stride. Good thing my legs were longer than his. I caught up to him easily.
“Fable, please wait. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He wouldn’t even look at me, his eyes focused on the ground ahead, and I told myself it was because he needed to watch his step on the icy path, not because I’d done something wrong. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked tightly. “There’s something here between us, isn’t there?”
“Yes!” I said fervently. To call it “something” was the understatement of the year. A fated bond between mates waseverything. But how was I supposed to explain that to a human?
“But I kissed you, and you rejected me.”
“I would never!” That word was like a stab in the chest. Rejecting fate’s gift was impossible for a shifter to fathom. “Is that why you’re mad at me? Because I wouldn’t grope you on the dancefloor in front of your friends?”
“Pfft!” he snorted. “They’re not my friends. They never were. You already know me better than they ever did.” His voice had turned pleading, and it twisted me up inside. Every instinct I had said to fix this, to do anything it took to please my mate.
He shoved open the door to the cabin and kicked off his shoes, whipping off the toque I’d insisted he wear, making his hair wild. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, the alcohol, or just the fire burning through his veins.
As soon as I closed the door, he rounded on me, eyes flashing. I’d been prepared for a fight, but instead, he launched himself at me, climbing my body until his legs were notched around my hips. I barely caught him in time, his lips sealing to mine in a searing, sloppy kiss. I couldn’t help myself, I moaned into his mouth, the heady feeling overwhelming me and making my head spin. He smelled sogood, his hands deliciously warm as he pulled up my shirt, searching for skin. My thoughts hinged on one word alone: mate. My gums ached as my teeth threatenedto elongate, begging me to mark him and complete the bond between us.
I spun us around and pressed Fable against the door, grinding our cocks together. He whimpered when I brought my hands to his ass, massaging through the slick-damp fabric.
But he tasted of rum punch. That was the only thing that could wipe my senses clear. As much as I wanted Fable, it needed to wait until he was sober.
Groaning, I pulled away, resting my forehead on his and panting to catch my breath. Fuck, I could taste his unique scent on my tongue, and I took a deep breath just to hold him in my lungs. “Fable, you’re drunk,” I said, shaking my head to clear it.
“I’m not,” he said in denial, but the slur in his voice didn’t help his cause. “Okay, I’ll admit I’m a little tipsy, but my thoughts are totally clear. And if I was drunk, would I be this hard?” He emphasized his point with a roll of his hips. “Besides, you had just as much to drink as I did, and you’re apparently sober enough to drive!” I wished I could explain that alcohol didn’t affect shifters in the same way as humans.
The scent of his slick was overpowering, and my cock flexed in reply. Gods, I wanted nothing more than to bury myself deep inside him, to bite him and claim him as mine forever. I blinked hard. I needed space, fresh air, before my instincts took control. My throat was tight as I set him down on his feet and took a step back. My breath shuddered past my lips. “Let’s just… sleep on this, okay? If you still want me in the morning, then we’ll talk.”
“What? Morning? But I need you now,” he whined, before his eyes grew glassy. “Don’t you want me?”
My body shook with not just desire but the engrained need to provide for my mate, to care for him no matter what he needed, even if that need was sexual. If I didn’t leave right this second, I would give in, and this was not something I wanted either of us to regret.
