Page 25 of A Nest of Maple & Mist

Jason stood in the doorway, looking rugged and gorgeous. Dark jeans hugged his tree-trunk thighs. A thick, wool-lined flannel accentuated his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up, exposing forearms lined with scars and corded with muscle.

The massive mountain of an alpha made a speck of drool catch on the corner of my mouth. I quickly swiped it away, but based on the slight rise of his brow, the motion didn’t go unnoticed.

Flecks of polished obsidian glittered in his dark blue eyes, making my mind go blank. A purr begged for freedom. I desperately wanted to release it. But I didn’t, stifling the sound and pissing off my omega in the process.

Instead, I perfumed, maple and vanilla clouding us. Jason’s eyes darkened. His hand cupped my cheek, his callused fingers stroking my flushed skin.

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he rumbled, the sound vibrating in the space between us.

Something sounding like a warble fell from my lips as my cheeks burned and slick threatened to ruin my fresh panties. I nodded, afraid of what other unhinged noises might come out if I opened my mouth.

His fingers intertwined with mine as he led me out the back door.

The sun had almost completely set, leaving the sky a deep indigo. As we rounded the bend toward the pond at the edge of the property, I saw a bonfire already roaring in a stone pit by the water’s edge.

I giggled, my bright eyes and wide smile meeting Jason’s steady stare. His fingers flexed in my grip, guiding us closer as the flames flickered, sputtering sparks into the air. Two Adirondack chairs flanked the fire, fuzzy blankets draped over them.

“This is perfect,” I breathed.

While I enjoyed a night out here and there, I preferred evenings at home with cozy blankets and snacks.

“I wanted somewhere quiet. Just for you and me.”

My heart melted. He guided me into one of the chairs, tucking a wool blanket around my legs. He maneuvered the material around my thighs and hips, ensuring no stray breeze chilled me.

His finger tapped the tip of my nose and I breathed a soft laugh, relaxing further into the plush blankets.

The wood creaked as Jason sat on the wide arm of my chair. His hand moved to my nape, the touch possessive and grounding. The pad of his thumb rubbed a spot near the base of my skull, and I moaned.

I loved this more than I cared to admit. It was the most relaxed I had been in a long time.

“You should eat, baby.”

He reached into the small cooler between the chairs, pulling out pieces of cheese and fruit. My stomach grumbled, and he smirked. He brought the artisanal bread to my mouth, layered with cheese and berries.

My lips parted, and a satisfied smolder ignited in his eyes as he slid the food into my mouth. Sweet and tart mixed as I took a bite, my tongue darting out to lick the remnants from his fingers.

A mumbled “fuck” blended with a choked cough. My omega loved the effect we had on him.

I enjoyed it, enjoyed him taking care of me. It had been so long since anyone really had.

No one had given me that gentle kind of love since my parents passed away.

We sat there in relative silence, watching as the moon rose, illuminating the inky black sky in a sheen of silver. Jason continued to feed me until I pushed his hand away, shaking my head.

“If I take another bite, I’ll pop.”

“I guess I shouldn’t mention s’mores, then?” he asked, shrugging.

“Hey now. Don’t be ridiculous. There is a second stomach for desserts, and it always has room.”

“Do you want your marshmallow lightly toasted or…”

“Burn it. I want you to have to rescue it from a fire before I devour it whole.”

“Oh. My omega is a little pyro. Good to know.”

Jason stood, his ass looking like it had been poured into that pair of Wranglers. I wiggled, unabashedly watching his muscles flex as he skewered marshmallows and made making s’mores look positively filthy.