Page 59 of Rejected By the Winter Wolf

It’s a Colorado Springs olive-green sweatshirt Erin brought back for me on one of her many trips. While my pack sticks to the outskirts of major cities—or avoids them altogether—she has traveled to quite a few of them. It fits me perfectly, but it swamps Astra.

And fuck if it doesn’t look perfect anyway.

I never want it back.

“It’s getting colder,” she murmurs, her cheeks getting pink again.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, you thought it.”

I shrug. I did think it. I shouldn’t have, but I’ll think it louder if it brings her blush back.

This feels forbidden. The weight of my pack rests in the back of my mind, along with Jessamine’s countdown. Dealing with Gage was a drop in the bucket of shit on our to-do list.

I take her bag from her and offer the plate and fork from Marjorie. She takes the items, her eyes narrowed, and goes to the porch steps. Without a word, she sets the plate on her knees and takes a bite.

Her eyes close.

Satisfaction rolls through me. I can’t move. I just watch her devour it in minutes. She wipes her mouth on the back of her hand when it’s gone.

“Someone will return the plate to the lodge,” I say.

She sets it down and rises, folding her arms over her chest. I can feel her silent question: Now what?

“Ready?”

Being in an enclosed space with the witch for hours will be a test of my patience. I’d ask myself if I’m ready, but I know the answer.

“When I don’t know where we’re going or have any control over my future? Sure, I’m ready.” She heads for the passenger side of the truck.

I roll my eyes. “You should get used to not being in control. You seemed to like it just fine last night.”

“Last night was your fault, not mine.”

Oh, interesting. Her blush—and her arousal—suddenly are all I can focus on. I inhale slightly, then shake my head. I need to get that out of my brain and my nose. Last night shouldn’t have happened, but it did. No use trying to make both of us feel like shit by regretting it.

Still.

“You were the one grinding on my cock,” I reply.

She yanks pointedly on the door handle. It doesn’t budge. Her breathing comes faster. Is it because she’s never talked about sex before? Or done what we did? She tries again, but it’s futile.

I allow my lips to curve into a smirk. “Not that one.”

Astra pauses. “What do you mean, not that one? There’s no other one.”

I pull the cover off my motorcycle with a flourish. “This one.”

She glowers at me. “No.”

“I didn’t ask.”

Truth be told, I was going to take the truck. Trapping her arousal between us in the cab seems like a very bad idea, and the bike clearly scares her. I want her off-balance. Once she gets her footing, she’ll find a way to try and escape. She won’t succeed, not with the mate bond dragging me toward her. It flares in my chest, aching more as soon as I pay the slightest bit of attention to it.

“I’m still saying no.”

I fit her bag into the compartment under the seat. It slides in nicely alongside mine. It helps that we both packed light. This bike is built for speed, not leisure. Or comfort.