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“Still, it’s not your fault,” Helen insisted. “The torture, the punishments, the experiments. Everything accelerated over the last few weeks. Probably because Talbot was taken, and they weren’t hearing from him. I don’t think they were hearing from anyone, and they were left to their own devices. None of us were going to survive. Now, some of us have. More will.”
“Not enough,” Jensen swore. “Not nearly enough.”
Fletch found himself wondering if someone had been taken from Jensen during the attacks. He hadn’t been seeing anyone as far as Fletch knew, but then Jensen had always been more private than the rest of them. Maybe, there was more to his sense of guilt than they all thought.
“Give me the shot, Jensen. What you’re working on could help us going forward, by preventing hunters from suppressing our animals. That’s huge,” Helen vowed.
Jensen turned back toward them, seeming to shake off his mood. He exhaled loudly as he rejoined them.
“I need to put it in your thigh or buttock,” he warned. “I’ll let you choose.”
Helen’s face flushed red. “Give me a second.”
She turned, grabbed Fletch’s hand and led him back to the bedroom, shutting the door with a soft click.
“Change your mind?” he asked then took in her bashful demeanor and the flush of color that seemed to rise from her chest to stain her cheeks a bright red. “You’re not wearing any panties, are you?”
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “Do you think they know?”
“We do now,” Milo called with a laugh.
“Shut up, Milo,” Fletch yelled, which only seemed to set his brother to laughing harder.
“I’d rather have it in my thigh but don’t want to flash the room,” she muttered.
There was a knock at the door before it opened just enough for an arm to reach through with a bag that definitely had the look of a lingerie store.
“This should help.” Milo cleared his throat, sounding a little embarrassed now. “There are delicates in there, as well as some sleep shorts. I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I grabbed a variety, thinking we could give what you don’t like to someone else and get more of what you do like on our next trip into town.”
“Thank you,” Helen praised as she tugged the door open enough to grab the bag then rise on tiptoe to give Fletch’s brother a kiss on the cheek.
“You’re welcome,” he offered with a grin and a wink. “But don’t think I won’t tease you about coming to dinner with three men while you’re wearing no underclothes.”
Helen laughed this time, pressing her hand against his face and pushing him away as she closed the door again.
“He’s as much of an ass as my brothers,” she shared as she dumped out the bag on the bed and rifled through the items.
Fletch didn’t respond to that. He’d like to say he couldn’t wait to meet them, which was true, but until they knew if any of her family had survived, it seemed like a senseless comment to make. Instead, he took in the delicates his brother had grabbed and almost saw red. Some scraps of lace would barely cover anything. It wasn’t the material he found fault with. It was the fact Milo had been the one to go in and make the purchase. Shit! Fletch should have taken the time to do that himself. Next time, he would.
Then all thought left as Helen stripped from the waist down and tugged on a black thong before grabbing a pair of the shorts Milo had stated were in the bag. They barely covered her ass cheeks, and Fletch knew he was seconds from going all caveman and telling the other two to get the hell out. He didn’t want anyone to see his mate in those shorts. No one except him.
“Do you have a shirt I can wear?” Helen turned to stare at him as she pulled off her shirt and tossed it aside. No fucking bra. He licked his lips as he drank in the sight of her in those shorts. He was hard as a rock.
“Fletch,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go out there in these. Do you have a shirt?”
He shook himself out of the haze of lust.
“Middle drawer on the right.” He nodded toward the dresser. “Take what you want.”
“Do you have a washer and dryer here?” she asked as she bent over and pulled the drawer open.
Those shorts crept up even higher to mimic the string of the underwear Fletch had seen her put on. It had him moving toward her, rubbing against her.
“I want to take you just like this,” he groaned as he pressed a kiss by her ear. “Bent over for me. Eyes in the mirror, so I can watch your face while I make love to you.”
“Hold that thought,” she whispered with a groan. “I’ll get the shot, then we’ll shoo away those in the front room and come right back in here to get naked and back in position.”
Fletch stared at her in the mirror. The color on her face, the lust in her eyes, the way her nipples taunted him in the mirror, begging him to cup and squeeze them.
