Emma forced the need away, found her voice. “It won’t be missing for long. It’ll grow back. And that story will be a lot harder to sell to a jury than the one you have for this morning.”
The silence that fell was heavy, painful. Nathan didn’t move. She couldn’t see him, had no idea what he was thinking. But at least he didn’t let her go.
Finally, he pulled her closer. His jaw, rough with a day’s growth of beard, scratched lightly over her cheek. “This morning I thought I was having some kind of spiritual experience. The kind people have a few weeks before they play naked chicken with a train. So if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, it’s a lot less worrying than believing I’ve gone crazy.”
Emma could only nod again, her relief a shuddery ache in her chest.
But Nathan didn’t let her off the hook. “If you’re saying it, Emma, then say it.”
She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. “It was me. This morning, the wolf you saw was me. I showed you which logging road he drove down, and I dug his thumb out of the snow.”
“Christ.” He muffled a laugh against her neck. “You’ve got one hell of a bite.”
“Yes. But it also means that he’s going to become what I am. Just like I changed after I was bitten by that wolf five years ago.”
His fingers drifted over the unblemished skin at her temple. “You do heal fast. Does it hurt now when I touch you here?”
“No.” She caught his hand. “It would only hurt if you didn’t touch me.”
“There’s no chance of that.” His lips ghosted over her ear, her jaw, then her fingers, where she held his hand against her neck. His other arm tightened around her waist. “This is why, five years ago, you didn’t come back.”
“I was afraid,” she admitted.
“General fear, or are there specifics I should know about?”
“There were specifics. I’d lose whole chunks of time, wake up outside. And it was harder to fight myself when I wanted something.” Like Nathan. “And I didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”
“But now?”
“I learned to control it better. And the more I let it - the wolf - out, the more control I have when I’m human.” Unable to help herself, she arched a little, rubbed her bottom against him, then choked out an embarrassed laugh. “But my control still isn’t perfect.”
His hand moved down to her hip, stroked the length of her thigh. “That isn’t exactly a turn-off.”
From the evidence blatantly present, she’d already realized that. Emma let go of his hand, twisted her fingers in the sheets. She didn’t have much practice at controlling arousal, but her nails didn’t rip the cotton, thank God. Her hips worked back against him and she panted, “We can’t.”
Nathan stilled. “Now, or ever?”
“Now. I hear Aunt Letty coming up the stairs.”
He groaned against her neck. Emma laughed, but it was cut short when he rolled her over and fastene
d his lips to hers.
Oh, God, he tasted so good. Smelled so good. Felt so good. She pushed her fingers into his hair, opened her mouth to the slick heat of his tongue. His hips pushed between her thighs and he rocked forwards once, twice; her breath caught on each movement, her body aching for completion.
But it wouldn’t be now. With a growl that sounded as feral as hers, Nathan lifted himself away, and pushed off the bed. He stood in his khaki uniform pants and shirt, his hair dishevelled, his breathing ragged and heavy. Not even a werewolf and he had to fight himself as hard as she did.
Warmth swept through her, curved her lips. “Sheriff Studly.” She turned onto her side, propped herself up on her elbow. “That does have a better ring to it than Deputy Studly.”
A teasing nickname she’d given him her first summer here, when they’d met and had an instant, strong connection with each other. But at sixteen, she had been too young for anything except a platonic relationship with a man just out of college. No wonder they’d fallen into the “we’re just friends” rut: both of them afraid to change and risk the friendship they’d formed that first year. And both of them longing for that change.
And they’d both gotten change in a big way.
Nathan dragged a hand over his face, finally looking away from her. “You knew to call me that last night. Letty told you about the election?”
“I kept up on the news here.”
“Well, what they didn’t mention was that most people voted me in on name recognition. They saw ‘Forrester’ and checked the ballot, forgetting that my dad was heading off to Arizona to retire, so they were actually getting Junior.” His smile became wry. “The past eighteen months haven’t been such a fine addition to his legacy, have they?”