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As anxious as that thought makes me, it also fills me with anticipation and excitement. I’ve dreamed about this moment since I was fifteen years old. I want to experience that kind of closeness with Wolf.
And the fact that he saved all his firsts…
A bubble of giddiness bursts within me. It’s almost too much for the confines of my skin.
The metal doors slide apart, and a shocked gasp penetrates the thick haze that surrounds me. I reluctantly crack open an eyelid, only to find three girls standing in the hallway with their mouths hanging open.
One of them clears her throat. “Hi, Wolf.” Envy brims from her voice.
His grip intensifies as if he’s afraid I’ll flee. He should realize that I’m not going anywhere. An unintelligible response escapes from him before he drags me out of the elevator and down the hallway. Their high-pitched laughter chases after us.
I should be embarrassed by the PDA.
But I’m not.
At all.
I don’t give a crap about those girls or the gossiping that will inevitably follow. Any of them would trade places with me in a heartbeat.
His long legs eat up the length of the hallway faster than I’m able to keep up with. It’s only when he grounds to a halt outside his apartment and fishes out a key from his pocket that I’m able to catch my breath.
When he shoves open the door, it hits the interior wall with a shudder. A growl escapes from him as he swings toward me and nibbles at my lips before lifting me into his arms. His eyes flash with so much heat and hunger as he tips his chin upward to hold mine. The sheer force of it arrows straight down to my core before exploding like a firework. The need to feel more of him spirals through me as I tangle my legs around his waist. His large hands palm my ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh.
That’s all it takes for arousal to burst to life within me as a groan breaks loose and my grip around him intensifies. Even though there are way too many layers of clothing separating us, I grind against his hard abdominals, desperate for friction.
I’m so damn needy for what only he can give me.
He kicks the door shut before stalking through the living area and then down a short hallway to the bedroom. Once closed inside his private space, we stay locked together. The way our mouths are fused, and our tongues tangle is nothing short of intoxicating. As much as I don’t want to break the contact, I can’t bear the layers of clothing that keep me from his naked flesh.
I wiggle around until he realizes that I’m trying to escape his hold before sliding against his muscular body until my Chucks touch the carpet.
Only then do I break our kiss.
A growl rumbles up from deep within his chest as he stares at me. The heated look he slants my way is almost menacing. The saliva dries in my mouth as hot licks of need pool in my core.
Without a sound, my shaky fingers tighten around his sweatshirt, dragging it up his torso until I can pull it over his head. There’s a black Western Wildcats hockey T-shirt that quickly meets the same fate.
A gasp escapes from me as I stare at his bare chest.
Not only is he heavily muscled and thickly corded, he’s covered in tattoos. There’s so much color decorating his flesh that I’m unsure where to look first. I don’t realize that I’ve reached out to touch him until my fingertips ghost over his chiseled pectorals.
When we were kids, I caught sight of him all the time when we’d hang out by the pool. There wasn’t a single mark on him. That he’s had all of this color and artwork tattooed on him in the span of five years seems almost unbelievable.
Just as I open my mouth to fire off a barrage of questions, my gaze falls on my brother’s full name with the date of his birth and subsequent death. Wolf stills as my fingers drift over the swirling ink. A thick lump forms in my throat as hot tears prick the backs of my eyes, making it impossible to breathe. It takes effort to blink them away as I force my gaze to his.
“You marked yourself with him.”
His fingers wrap around mine before drawing them to his lips and brushing a soft kiss against the knuckles.
“How could I not?”
Heavy emotion swamps me as I refocus my attention on the sun-kissed flesh that has been turned into a canvas of precious memories. There are hockey sticks in an X with Miles’ number on it and the perfect illustration of his beloved Porsche.
My heart stops before pounding into overdrive when I see my name framed by peonies. Ever since I can remember, Wolf would give me a vaseful of bright pink peonies on my birthday. They were always my favorite. In the summer, our gardens would overflow with their wild blooms.
My shaking fingers drift over each letter.
I just…
