“What the hell made you do that anyway?”
Standing up from picking the strawberries off the low bushes, Patrick glanced at me. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked really, really uncomfortable. I lifted an eyebrow.
“No lies.”
He coughed. “Right. No lies.” He bent to continue picking the strawberries. “When Garrett called that first night and told us we had to get you all away from the coyotes, I had a…nighttime guest.”
A pang of jealousy shot through me. That was interesting. “So just for that?”
“She was not the first. It was not the first time she was there either.” He sighed. “I’ve been a bit of a playboy for a while and the thought of…”
Now, I was interested. “Of what?”
“I knew you were my mate the instant I saw you at the cabin that night. Everything else fell away. I was…I am ashamed of how I’ve been acting for the past ten years, and the thought of having you in that bed made my wolf—and me—freak out.” He stood and dropped a few berries in the basket I was holding. “So, on impulse, I yanked the thing out of the bedroom, chainsawed it, and set it on fire.”
I smirked. “Dramatic much?”
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “I’ve never really been good with the whole what to do when you find your mate thing, so I went with it.”
“Where did you sleep until they delivered the new one?”
He swallowed. “Do not tell Jason this. I slept in Delia’s room. She wasn’t there. Most nights. It was easier when she found out about Jason. I just shifted and slept in the closet.”
I was trying not to laugh. “What about when she was there, and she didn’t know?”
He cleared his throat. “I slept in the closet. Same spot, less fur.”
“Did she know?”
He coughed. “When she opened the door the first time and found me there, yes.”
“You-you. Not wolf you.”
Patrick nodded.
That was the end of me. I cracked up laughing, long and hard. “You were sleeping in a closet! Because you impulsively burned your mattress before buying a new one!”
“Don’t tell my brother.”
I guffawed a little more. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I have no intention of letting you forget this.”
His big brown eyes stared at me, rounded in disbelief. “You’re not mad about the…manwhoring?”
“Oh, please. Lots of people sleep around. It’s not that big of a deal. I saw it in college all the time. As long as every single of them was consensual, whatever. Get you some.”
“Never anything but consensual, there’s no fun in non-con. Even asking permission can be dirty fun.” Patrick smirked. “But I have no interest in that now. My wolf kinda really likes you.”
“So…wait. Hang on. For the past ten years? How… how old are you?”
“Thirty-seven.”
My mouth dropped open and I almost spilled the strawberries. “You’re what?”
“Thirty-seven. We don’t age like regular humans. How old do you think Garrett is?”
“God, I was thinking you were like twenty-six. So, I guess my twenty-nine for him is way the hell off.”
“Way-way. He’s a hundred nineteen.”
“What?” I gaped at him.
“My older brother Darius is a hundred fifty-three. Our parents are a hundred and seventy or so.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “Tatianna?”
“She’s fifty. Honest. Pretty sure Mom and Dad will have another after she’s ready to fly the coop.”
“Whoa. Hold on. How long do you all live?”
“About two hundred-fifty unmated, five to seven hundred if you’re lucky enough to find your mate.”
My jaw hit the ground. “You’re serious?”
He smirked and nodded. “Absolutely.”
That was nuts. Insanity. Living half a millennium? It was unbelievable. But then again, I was talking to a wolf shifter who claimed I was his mate. What the hell did I know about real life anymore?
“How did you get these strawberries to grow like this? I thought Alaska was pretty much shit for farming.”
“This isn’t farming, it’s gardening. I have a hot house downstairs I start a lot of the fruits and veggies in. It’s got tons of beds and I’m kinda known for my amazing cucumbers and tomatoes.” He pointed to two massive gardens to our right. “I get so many I sell to some of the restaurants and offer to share with most of the people on St. Terese.”
“You are just full of surprises, Mister Pauler.” I smiled. “I would have never pegged you for a farmer—sorry. Gardener.”
“We have long months of terrible cold and a lot of snow. I do what I can. We’ve been lucky so far. You all have seen nothing but blue sky and sun. The rain will be back in a few days.”
“How much does it rain here?” I looked up at the crystal blue sky.
“There are three hundred sixty-five days in a year, right? We get precipitation three hundred of those. Only Ketchikan has us beat by sheer volume.”
I snorted. “I’m shocked people don’t have more kids then.” Oh, damn it.
He tossed his head back and laughed. “Right? You’d think they would. But, no. We can’t just pop kids out like that. There’s only certain times of the month and year we can actually get pregnant.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Certain specific rituals have to be done under a certain phase of the moon. We may not be moonbound by our shift, but we are moon-bound by rituals.”
“So, you don’t even really need condoms?”
“That’s a strange question, but no. We don’t get STDs and we can’t really accidentally get pregnant. Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” I dropped the hopeful note out of my voice.
“There are accidents sometimes. Weird alignments that allow it to happen when no specific ritual was performed. Mostly under a new moon in the fall.”
“That specific?”
“Yes. But…why did you ask about the condoms?”
“I’m allergic to latex and some of the lubricants. I uh…got really close with a boy in college and I had a massive reaction to it. We didn’t even have the chance to do it and he had to rush me to the hospital.”
God, that was embarrassing. Both the incident and the admission of it. It had set me back at least another six months in therapy. More. I hadn’t been able to even look at him after that, even though I knew it was neither of our faults.
I sighed. “I’m so fucked up.”
“Latex is actually a normal allergy, Addi.” He smiled. “Lots of people are allergic to it and that’s why they make natural rubber ones.”
“Yeah, and those are usually safe with the water-based lube.”
My face shot to bright red, I could feel it. I was discussing lubes and condoms. With…
What were we? Were we dating? I didn’t know how this worked with shifters. I frowned and stared at the berries in the basket.
Patrick’s head cocked to the side and he watched me. “What did those berries do to you?”
I shot my gaze to his. “Sorry. I…”
My words died. He was staring at me like I was a tempting little snack. Wrapping his hands around the edges of the basket, he moved it to the side, then slid one of his hands around my waist, drawing me in close.
“Addi.” My name was a spoken prayer on his lips, and it washed through me, heating every nerve in my body. “You’re just about the most beautiful thing on this earth.”
“Just about?” I teased quietly.
“You give the sun and the moon a real run for their money.”
I couldn’t tease him again. His lips covered mine and he sought my tongue a heartbeat later. Flavors that made up most of Patrick flooded me again. We had spent more than a few hours making out in the past few days, but this…this felt different. Deeper. More connected. More.
A whole lot more.
Stepping back,
he took my hand and walked me out of the gardens. He put the basket in the wheelbarrow as we walked by and he led me up into the house.
Oh. God, yes.
He led me into his room—the master suite, because there was nothing ‘bedroom’ about it—and into the bathroom.
His eyes roamed my face, and there was a burning hunger there. “I want you to tell me to stop the instant you feel anything other than pleasure.” The words were as soft and nebulous as the simple heat of his hands as he wrapped them around my waist.
Lost for words, I just nodded.
He slammed on the water in the shower and adjusted it, then turned back to me. His fingers were sure and firm on the buttons of my shirt, and he carefully plucked each one open. My shirt fluttered to either side, and his hands cupped my breast, weighing them, squeezing them gently inside the bra.
Running his hand up and over, he slipped the shoulders of the shirt off me, and I adjusted my arms so it could fall to the ground behind me. He made a grunt of satisfaction.
Before he could bring his hands back to work on my pants, I lifted my own and found the bottom edge of his shirt. I pulled it up, revealing an amazing set of abs, and an expansive vista of creamy, lickable skin. His hands were up, complying with my unspoken direction—get this shirt off.
A spike of desire shot through me. It was a wonderful, amazing feeling that I knew was all Patrick’s fault.
“We’re going to play a game,” he breathed against my skin. “No touching. We have to shower because we’re covered in garden dirt. You can only touch with a washcloth.”
“That’s torture.”
“That’s the fun part.” His grin was positively devilish.
My legs were shaking. I wasn’t going to make it, but I was going to try.
We’d managed shirts, and now there were pants.
Oh, yes, there were pants.
But before he let me strip his off, Patrick found the button on mine and popped it open. He carefully pulled the zipper tab down and peeled the pants to the side. The heat in his eyes clearly said he was really struggling with not touching me.
I laughed a little. “Regretting your own game, Patrick?”
He grunted and shimmied the pants over my ass.
Truth was, I was having trouble with his game as well. I wanted his hands on me.
I felt a little bit of fear creep through me.
“Patrick, stop.”
He instantly straightened, letting go of my clothes. “What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with honest concern.
“I need you to touch me,” I whispered. “I can’t do this without it.”
He kissed me, softly for only a moment and then deeper, even more possessively. The little bit of fear that crept in was swept away by the touch of his tongue to mine. His hand rested on my hip and he pulled me in close, not breaking the kiss.
“Better?”
“Much.” I smiled.
“Mmm. Same here. The hell with this. Get naked. I want you in the shower, so I can clean you up the right way.”
This time, I balked and cringed.
His hand was gentle on my face. “Addison?”
“It’s the naked part. I’m not…”
He smiled carefully. “I know. Want to leave those panties on for now? I’ll step back when it’s time to wash…”
Did I? Was I always going to fear the mutilation visited on me? He knew. He knew what the problem was. Patrick was willing to back off, let me deal with myself. Let me keep my secret.
The cuts had been shocking before plastic surgery. I had made myself look. After they were still ugly. I hated the mess.
But Patrick knew. He still wanted me naked—he still wanted to touch me.
“No.” I stepped back just a bit and pulled everything down my legs at once. “I want to feel you skin to skin.”
His breath stuttered out, and he ran his hand over my stomach, around my side. He trailed his fingers back and in a flash decision, he had his pants down and off.
Oh.
Well, this was worth fighting through.
I reached a tentative hand out to touch the large, proud cock that stood from the dark curls at its base. He twitched just a little when I wrapped my hand around him.
Oh. My.
“Addi…” It was a warning and welcome.
“Shower,” I breathed.
“Bra.” He slipped his arms around me and unfastened the last piece of clothing between us. He stole a kiss as he figured out how the damn thing worked and backed up as he drew it down my arms.
He wrapped a hand around the soft mound of flesh, marveling at it. Smoothing a hand over me, he almost seemed to weigh it, plump it, and then softly teased the peak.
“Patrick. Shower. Please. We’re both going to explode.”
He dropped kisses on my cheeks and forehead, and slowly led me into the warm water, in what my brain vaguely registered as a massive and ridiculous shower with a rainshower showerhead, and sprayer bars on either side.
Moving me a little at a time, he put me right under the cascade of the rainshower and stepped back just a bit. I lifted my head to let the water run over me and soak my hair.
“Jesus…” he whispered.
* * *
The water ran down her perfect body, highlighting curves and dips. The tips of her breasts were like high waterfalls, spilling the water over their generous shape.
Her hair glimmered and shone, gathering the water to run in rivulets down her arms, her hips, her legs.
“Oh, God, please turn around,” I whispered, fisting my cock in my hand. This was my own private show, and shit, I was going to be lucky if I didn’t come right there.
She smiled, her eyes lazy with the haze of sexual heat. Slowly, lifting her arms, she turned and ran her hands over her hair, sluicing the water out, down her back and over her pert, generous, pale, soft ass.
I couldn’t help myself. I dropped to my knees behind her and nibbled. Carefully, softly, I nipped at the round globes, brushing my hands up and down her outer thighs, feeling the satin of her skin in the water.
“Oh, God.” She moaned and pressed her hands to the tiles there. “Holy shit, Patrick…”
I adored how she never tried to shorten my name. It sounded amazing from her lips. Between nibbles, I grinned. “Someone likes this…”
“I didn’t know…”
Pressing a soft kiss just at the top of her ass, I stood and slid my hands up and over her breasts. There was absolutely nothing about this woman I didn’t find attractive.
Leaning out and grabbing a washcloth, I squirted a dollop of soap on it and started at her neck, slowly washing and lathering her from there down. She tried to turn, but I wouldn’t let her.
She nestled back against me, and my hard-as-a-rock dick settled between the cheeks of the backside. “Patrick…” Addi was enjoying it there.
So was I.
The cloth skimmed over her breasts, and I lifted one and cleaned it carefully, following in kind with the other. I ran the cloth up her arms and down her sides, over the soft skin of her stomach. I trailed over her hips to the swell of her ass, and straight up her spine. I caressed my way down one side, then the other.
I maneuvered my body so I wouldn’t have to move my cock from its cozy position and soaped the right side of her, then switched and soaped the left side.
With no choice, I slipped back to my knees behind her, and she whimpered with the loss. The cloth continued lathering, down her legs, down to her feet. I picked each one up, one at a time, and cleaned each toe delicately.
Finally, as I stood, I turned her to look into her eyes.
They were fever bright with desire.
With a little more soap, there was only one place left to clean. Circling her navel once, I skimmed the distance from there to her mound.
Addi let out a breath and leaned her forehead on mine. Christ, if we were mated I would have no fear of this, no fear of pushing too far, scaring her. But we weren’t. I had to
trust her to tell me when something wasn’t good.
I trailed the cloth to one side and dipped into the crease of her leg. She swallowed and sighed. “It’s good,” she whispered.
I brushed over the deeper part of her vulva and she shuddered. I put a hand on her hip and pulled her a little closer.
Two fingers, hidden in the cloth, brushed over her entrance and she inhaled sharply, but there was no discomfort in her gasp. I dragged them forward, slowly, slowly.
The breath she had been holding hissed out quietly. “Oh, God, yes…”
Well, she was wound tighter than a drum. I had to get rid of some of her tension and what better than with an orgasm, on my hand, in my shower, and in my arms?
Nothing.
With the lightest touch I could manage, I brought my hand forward, and the cloth hit the most tender parts of her. She groaned and pressed down a little onto the cloth.
“Put your arms around me, Addi. I’ll take care of you.”
She threw her arms around my neck, and once my other arm was around her waist, I started to move the cloth with more purpose, pressing against all of her sex. I found her clit easily despite the cloth—she yelped just a little when she rode over it.
Circles and lines front to back, side to side, I kept moving the soapy cloth over her clit. She was gasping in no time flat and a minute later, she moaned and drew a hard breath.
“Oh, shit yes!” Her body went rigid against me, then let out a shriek as her synapses started firing again. She panted and heaved and dropped her head to my shoulder, pushing her whole, soapy body against me.
I gentled her down, moving us under the spray so the soap I had lathered her with washed off and away. It kept her warm, and I was able to indulge in a few of her soft, sated sighs.
“Okay?” I whispered.
“Yes.” The word was soft. “That’s the first time...”
I wrinkled my forehead for a moment and then realized exactly what she meant. “And you gave it to me. Thank you.”
She chuckled. “Well, that wasn’t so much as a giving as a convincing…”
“I’d like the chance to convince you several times this afternoon and perhaps have a lengthy discussion about how else I can convince you.”
“Lengthy.” She giggled and pulled her head up from my shoulder. “My turn?”
Exploring Alaska (The Juneau Packs Book 3) Page 8