Forbidden Shifters Complete Series (Books 1-6): A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance

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Forbidden Shifters Complete Series (Books 1-6): A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance Page 84

by Selena Scott


  She glanced up at him with her light brown eyes, almost amber in this light. "I think most people want to do a little bit of good, if they can. They just can’t always figure out how.”

  She fell into step beside Dawn and Phoenix just crutched along after them, thinking about her words.

  He thought, for the first time since he’d been plunked down into civilization, that maybe he wanted to figure out how to do some good as well. And he had Ida to thank for that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Well, she had to face facts. The double date idea hadn't worked. She’d thought that spending time with Phoenix’s sister while Quill took the brunt of Phoenix might help Ida to dispel some of these pesky feelings buzzing in circles inside of her. But alas. Seeing him interact with Dawn, teasing and sensitive and patient, had just made things worse.

  She’d snuck about a thousand peeks at him, frowning down at all the knick knacks on the tables. Patiently crutching around the entire market because it was the place that Ida had chosen to take everybody and she didn’t think he wanted to complain. Hell, even watching him snarf down food from the food trucks had done funny things to her insides.

  It was officially red alert season. She needed a plan and fast. For the next few days, Ida stuffed her schedule full with her other clients. She took one to apply for a loan, drove one to the DMV where he applied for his State Identification. She helped another choose a color scheme for the room she was renting in a coop filled with other shifters.

  And when she wasn’t working, she was scrubbing her fridge from top to bottom, went apple picking with Wren, casually perused a pop-up Halloween store but didn’t find a costume. And it was at that moment that Ida had to face facts. She was officially avoiding Phoenix. Which was bad because it was literally her job to spend time with him. And extra bad because he so badly needed her guidance. She was not being her best self.

  But Ida was just kind of scared that her best self might be slippery-ing down the slope toward a nice, messy crush.

  It was with that thought in mind that Ida chose, for her next appointment with Phoenix, the least romantic thing she could think to do.

  Now, she knew that there were plenty of people who would think of perusing modern art as a perfectly good date activity. In fact, there were most likely people who thought that it was even an aphrodisiac. But Ida had been dragged around on one too many bad dates in the name of culture to feel anything but bored at an art museum at this point.

  Apparently, Phoenix agreed.

  “No more,” he begged as they rounded another corner of the contemporary art museum. “This building is a labyrinth. I have a headache. I know you said it’s art but it all looks stupid to me and I’m starving.”

  “Oh, don’t be a big baby. Art is important to human culture!” she justified her choice of activities. Though, in her opinion, he’d hit the dang nail on the dang head. Modern art was deeply not her thing. She’d inflicted on them what she’d referred to as a ‘culture day’ hoping to let some of the air out of the intimacy balloon that had been swelling between them.

  She wasn’t wrong that Phoenix’s life in his human form would be easier and more natural if he had a vague understanding of things like art and philosophy and literature and pop culture. But … maybe in her urge to find something un-sexy to do, she’d overcorrected.

  He’d seemed extremely bored and unconnected and skeptical of the experience since the moment she’d pulled up to the boxy building. She’d thought it would be good for both of them to be bored and not quite so warm with each other.

  But now she winced, feeling guilty as she watched Phoenix limp on his crutches toward the exit. In her need to do something innocuous and un-sexy, she’d kept him on his feet too long. Damn.

  She caught up to him. “Let’s get you home.”

  A few minutes later he squeezed into her car, but his grimace didn’t go away.

  “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. “It’s just my leg and side, “he said with a wince. “I need to stretch out.”

  He pushed the passenger seat back as far as it would go, but there wasn’t enough room.

  “We’ll be back at your house in about forty five minutes.”

  He groaned. Ida glanced at him, really worried. He hadn’t talked about his injury much with her, and the one time she’d asked if he’d want her to accompany him on any physical therapy appointments he’d firmly shut her down. He made it clear that his injury was not on the table for discussion. She thought about the way he’d turned from her the other day, hiding his shiny pink scarring as if it were something horrifying she shouldn't see. And now, taking her cues from him, she’d allowed him to push himself much too far and he might have done permanent damage.

  She would have stopped at a park to let him stretch it out, but it was cold and drizzly.

  “Just pull over,” he gasped. “I’ll stretch on the ground somewhere. I don’t care.”

  “No, no. Look, can you make it five minutes? My house is in this neighborhood.” She knew this was stupid. She should not be taking her client to her house. And definitely not a client she had a crush on. But this was her mistake and he was paying for it now. She couldn’t let him wallow in pain.

  “All right,” he grunted.

  When they pulled up to her small bungalow she knew how much pain he was in because he didn’t protest when she came around to his side of the car and helped him up the sidewalk. As soon as they were inside her front door, he lowered himself to the ground and started in on some stretches. She raced to her bathroom and found some ibuprofen.

  “Here. Take these.”

  He dry swallowed them wordlessly, his face scrunched up in pain. He was laying on his back, stretching his knee toward his chest, though it wouldn’t go very far. Ida couldn’t help but sit next to his head. Unable to stop herself, she put her fingers on his tightened forehead and smoothed the wrinkles there, hoping to encourage him to relax a little.

  His eyes popped open.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” she whispered.

  “Scalp massage,” he grumbled.

  She smiled and got comfortable, immediately starting to rub his head and take deep breaths that she hoped he’d match. After a minute, he did. His face loosened a little and his breathing became less strained.

  He switched his stretching position, tensed again, and then, after a moment, began to relax. This happened four or five times until finally he was laying on his back, his eyes open to the ceiling, his breaths deep.

  “I’m okay now.”

  She peered down at him. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Not as okay as I would be if you hadn’t forced me through that art building, but yeah. I’m fine.”

  She laughed and grimaced. “Sorry. Point taken. No more art exhibits. And no more standing for hours.” Her eyes trailed down his big body on the runner carpet of her front hallway. He took up nearly every inch. His clothes hid his scarring and his feet were tipped to either side, one hand resting on his belly. He looked almost at ease. “Is there some sort of lotion or something that you put on your injury? Something to loosen up the scar tissue?”

  “Sometimes,” he answered evasively. “Seriously. I’m all right. I have a PT appointment tonight and it’ll be fine.”

  He slowly heaved himself up to a sit and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, facing away from her. He craned his head around. “So. This is your house?”

  Ida bit her lip and rose to her feet. “Yup.”

  She wondered what he saw when he looked around at her brightly painted walls and dying tulips in a jar at one end of the hall. She wondered if he noticed that she didn’t have any family pictures framed anywhere.

  He got to his feet and reached for his crutches, heading in toward her living room and kitchen. She watched as he studied the “chicks over dicks” framed cross-stitch that Wren had made for her last birthday, but when he looked away with no comment, she remembered he couldn’t read.


  She resisted the urge to ask him what he thought about all of this. He turned back to her. “Got anything to eat?”

  She laughed and led him to her couch. “You sit down. Or lay down. Get comfortable. And I’ll make us some pancakes.”

  She quickly made up the batter but frowned when she saw that she’d gotten her dress messy. So, Ida headed back into her bedroom and changed into some trousers and a nice sweater. She came back out, quickly put the pancakes on the griddle and checked on Phoenix. He was stretched out on her couch with his eyes closed. But when she came back into the living room a little while later, steaming pancakes on a tray with two glasses of juice and a carafe of syrup, he immediately sniffed the air and straightened up.

  She handed him his food. “Wanna watch a show?”

  He looked at her blankly.

  “The TV.” She pointed behind her. “It’s definitely a human thing. To watch television while you eat.”

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Don’t care.”

  She flicked on the TV and they ate in silence, him finishing long before she did. He was taking up most of the couch with his long legs but when she finished eating and set her plate away, she turned partway toward him and pushed at his feet with hers, arranging them so that they both had space.

  He grunted and picked up his legs, apparently seeing his opportunity, he slid his feet underneath either of her thighs, his legs stretched out between hers.

  He still watched the TV, his eyes lazily lidded, one arm up, pillowing the back of his head as if he didn’t see anything wrong with this position.

  And maybe he didn’t. Ida had been reading up on what little was known about True wolf shifters and there was one thing that came up frequently. They were surprisingly cuddly animals. She imagined that on cold nights, Phoenix and his siblings would have had to huddle together for warmth. He probably wouldn’t see anything strange about pressing against her right now, tangling his body with hers.

  She kept her eyes glued to the TV, but she could tell that he was yawning on the other side of the couch. Because this wasn’t a heated moment for him. She was certain that for him, this was about companionship and warmth more than anything. He probably didn’t even realize that this position was intimate.

  But she was his mentor and supposed to be teaching him about human culture and etiquette and she’d be remiss if she allowed him to think that it was completely fine to casually cuddle with a colleague or friend like this.

  She started to slide back so that she could sit up and untangle from him but his legs tensed and pinned her legs down. “Where are you going?”

  “Just repositioning.”

  “You’re uncomfortable?”

  She knew she had to be honest with him. It was her job to explain the intricacies of human intimacy to him. When he finally got himself a girlfriend, she didn’t want him to be eons behind. “Um. Not physically.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that this position,” she pointed down at their tangled legs, his knees on the inside of hers, her thighs laid over his feet, “Is pretty intimate. It’s probably something you’d do with a girlfriend, not a friend.”

  “So you don’t want to sit like this with me?”

  Well, the problem was actually that she did want to sit like this with him and that she definitely shouldn’t be sitting like this with him. Apparently she hesitated just long enough to give him an answer.

  “This feels nice to me,” he said in a low voice. His knees pushed out against hers and Ida gasped as the movement spread her legs open a few inches. “I like it.”

  Crap. Now she was actually turned on. She felt a liquid heat start between her legs and she did her best not to squirm. He pushed her legs open a few more inches and she was very aware of the fact that he was staring at her the same way he’d stared at that Gap Body website. His eyes even darker than normal, his nostrils flaring. She refused to look down at his crotch. Instead, she quickly disentangled herself from him, pulled herself to the far side of the couch and sat on her feet.

  “Maybe it’s time we started looking for a romantic partner for you,” she suggested in a voice that was embarrassingly weak.

  “A romantic partner?”

  “A girlfriend. Someone you could be, um, intimate with.” She felt his gaze on the side of her face as if it were a physical touch.

  “I don’t need a girlfriend in order to mate, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

  “Right, right.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you don’t need my help to find, uh, someone willing to … yeah.”

  His voice was low and scratchy. “I haven’t had problems in the past.”

  A silence stretched between them and Ida was fairly certain that she was going to have to be the one to break it. After all, they were in her house, on her couch.

  “Ida?” There was something soft in his voice that she’d never heard before. She turned to him. “Can I ask you a question about human culture?”

  “Anything,” she replied immediately, stoked that they were finally to the point where he might bring up a question on his own. It showed a great willingness to learn that she hadn’t observed in him before.

  “Why do humans kiss?”

  Her eyes grew wide as she processed the question. He was still stretched out on her couch, his legs stretching almost all the way to her hip, his arms spread wide, his eyes on hers. She gulped.

  Gathering her thoughts, she tried to answer this as professionally as possible. “Um. Lots of reasons. As a greeting. As a way of saying I love you. A way of expressing attraction.” She cleared her throat. She really wished he could read and she could just point him to some trusty internet resources. “Foreplay,” she whispered.

  “What’s foreplay?”

  Her cheeks flamed but she was determined not to shame him for asking. “It’s, um, the things you do right before sex. When you’re touching and, um, otherwise getting ready.”

  His eyes narrowed in confusion as he cocked his head to one side. Silence stretched on and Ida prayed this awkward conversation was now over. It was really possible that Phoenix should have been paired with Quill. Or some other mentor who could answer these questions without feeling like a pervert because her panties were wet.

  His voice finally broke the silence. “In which way did you kiss Watt?”

  Ida’s brain stuttered as she tried to catch up with the turn in the conversation. She gaped at him and he picked up the remote control to flick the television off.

  “I— How— You—” She clapped her mouth closed, completely stymied.

  Phoenix just calmly observed her, his eyes dark and unblinking, but not disturbing the way she used to think of his gaze. “He’s my physical therapist.”

  “Watt is your physical therapist.” She’d known that was his job but it hadn’t occurred to her that Watt and Phoenix would know each other. Phoenix knew like six humans total! And one of them just had to have been a guy she’d crashed and burned with? Oh lord. Just her luck. Then something else occurred to her. “Wait a second. He told you that he kissed me? How unprofessional!”

  Not that she could really talk, considering that she was about one breath away from incinerating her panties.

  “He’s my friend. We talk about a lot of things.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “You talk too?”

  He smirked. “I mostly listen while he talks.”

  But the smirk fell off his face and the serious expression resumed. Ida knew that he wasn’t going to forget about the question he’d asked her. He really wanted to know the answer. She cleared her throat. “It was a goodnight kiss. That’s all.”

  “So, that’s an acceptable reason to kiss someone? To say goodnight?”

  “Yes. Usually at the end of a date.” She thought of how best to explain it. “But it should be mutual. You should both want it. And it never hurts to ask if it’s okay to do it first.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “So, it wasn’t a -what
did you call it?- a foreplay kiss?”

  Ida was sure that her cheeks were as pink as bubblegum. “I think that it was for him? But, um, not for me.”

  Phoenix’s face shut down. “I don’t get it.”

  “He just was moving a little fast for me is all. I could tell that he wanted to … take things further, but I wasn’t there yet. So, for me, it was just a goodnight kiss.”

  “He was kissing you very fast?”

  Ida forced herself not to groan. This conversation was borderline humiliating. “No, he was just— look, there’s lots of different ways to kiss somebody and the way he was kissing me showed me that he wanted to have sex. But I wasn’t quite there yet. So I stopped kissing him and went into my house. Is that enough info?” She said it all very fast. The only reason she didn’t burst into flames of embarrassment was the fact that he was slightly leaned forward, listening very carefully. Like he was seriously trying to learn.

  He huffed and sat back. “I still don’t understand.”

  “Well, maybe it isn’t something that can be explained with words. Maybe it’s just something you’ll have to try out on your own.”

  He frowned at her. “I don’t want to try that. Kissing is utterly pointless to me. I’m asking you questions about it because I truly have no idea why a human would want to do it.”

  Ida gaped at him. “So, you’ve never …”

  He shook his head.

  Ida looked away for a second. He’d never kissed anyone, or seen a woman’s underwear. Yet, Diana had seemed fairly sure that the brothers had made their way into town to have sexual encounters. But what kind of sex could someone have that didn’t involve kissing or underwear?

  She looked at him askance. Was there any chance that he was a virgin? He certainly reeked of sexual energy. Just look at him, sprawled on the couch like that, all open body language and piercing eyes and big body. He looked like he was specifically designed to be a sex-haver. But then again, he’d spent almost every day of his life in his wolf form up until six months ago. Sex might have been hard to come by. And plenty of people were still virgins in their late twenties for all sorts of reasons. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she ever heard.

 

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