“No,” he growled. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say you’re not anything.”
Of course he knew. Those residual fears that I couldn’t ever be rid of, a holdover from when I didn’t think I’d amount to much. Maybe I could see now that I meant something to someone. Or someones. Maybe I could see it in their eyes when they looked at me. But that didn’t mean I didn’t feel like I was still a kid playing dress-up. Or a sheep in wolves’ clothing. It was a mask, this thing I was, and I wore it well.
Funny thing was, I almost believed it.
“Ox,” Joe said, sounding frustrated. “How can you not see it?”
I said, “I’m human,” as if that explained it all. To me, it did.
He smiled. “I know. And that’s the best part of all.”
We were whispering now, as if saying this any louder wouldn’t make it real.
I said, “What do we do?”
He said, “Whatever we can.”
I said, “I don’t know if I can do this. By myself.”
He said, “You won’t have to. Ox, don’t you see? I’m here now. If you’ll let me be.”
I said, “You can’t leave again. You can’t. You can’t. Even if he comes. And even if he runs again. Joe, you can’t leave us again. You can’t leave me again.”
He said, “I won’t,” and I heard the promise behind those two words, the intent. Joe Bennett was many things to me, but he wasn’t a liar. He might have had my anger, however much of it was still left. He might have held the remains of my trust in his hands. But Joe Bennett wouldn’t lie to me. Not about this. Not when it meant so much.
I believed him.
So I don’t know that I can be blamed for surging forward t
hen, thinking now and finally and JoeJoeJoe. He grunted once, but I swallowed it down, my mouth on his, frantic and harsh. His hands came up and cupped my face, holding me close, and aside from the taste of him, all I could think about was the last time we were like this, side by side. We’d been saying good-bye then, and now it was hello, hello, I can’t believe you’re here, hello.
It was clumsy at first. The angle was off, the rhythm filled with teeth and too much saliva. It hit me that I was only the second person he’d kissed in his life, if what he’d said was true. Frankie had been nothing but a passing thought, and I never wanted to know just how far they’d gone.
So I gentled it down as well as I could, slowing the pace, dragging it out. He was already breathing heavily as I swiped my tongue along his lips. He let out a little gasp, the smallest of noises, and his lips parted and my tongue touched his.
One moment I was leaning over him and the next I was flat on my back with an Alpha werewolf on top of me, a growl vibrating from his chest as he dragged his nose along my neck up behind my ear, inhaling as he went. His lips trailed after, wet against my throat, huffing out little breaths on my skin, trying to get his scent to mix in with mine.
He stretched out on top of me, and if there had been any doubt we were now evenly matched, that was long gone given how we met perfectly from head to toe. He ground down onto me, and I felt the hard line of his cock pressing against mine.
I reached up and wrapped my hand around the back of his head, holding him close against my neck. He was panting now, like it was overwhelming, like all of this was crashing over him. He trailed his lips and tongue up my jaw until he kissed me again. He was still unsure, the kisses shy and unpracticed, but it felt more real than any other person I’d been with.
I let go of the nape of his head and slid my hand down the wide expanse of his back, trying to find skin, trying to feel the heat of him.
His shirt had risen up, and I touched his back, pressing my hand flat against him, pushing him down as I pushed myself up, wanting the rough friction. He groaned into my mouth as our cocks lined up briefly before sliding next to each other.
He was pulling back, just the smallest amounts, his lips still brushing mine, saying, “I don’t know what to do, I’ve never done this, I don’t know what to do,” and his eyes were the brightest red I’d ever seen, like he was burning from the inside out.
“I know,” I said. “I know, I do, I’ll take care of—”
Which, really. I should have known to never tell a current bed partner of my past sexual experiences while in bed with him, especially if he happens to be an Alpha on a hair trigger. The moment I said I do, because I did know what to do, my hands were pinned over my head and Joe was snarling in my face, teeth sharp and eyes flaring impossibly brighter.
“You said you didn’t do that while I was gone,” he growled, hips stuttering against me like they hadn’t caught up with the fact that he was pissed.
Not that he had any right to be. “I didn’t,” I snapped back. “I told you I—”
“No one else,” he said and then rolled his hips deliberately, like he wanted to see my reaction up close.
I couldn’t stop my eyes from fluttering shut, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. I said, “Joe,” and he did it again, harder this time.