“I don’t see why. It’s fun being carried by you.”
“You were on my back.”
“And you’ve been on mine. From what I recall, you enjoyed it, too.”
My vision flickered with a surge of hunger, and I glared at him.
“Let’s not talk about that ever again. And maybe we’d get to the cabin faster if you jogged.”
He heaved an aggrieved sigh but picked up the pace. It made him warmer and smell better. While the warmth was nice, I fought not to turn my head and inhale his scent. Did he have any idea how delicious he smelled?
“What are you doing?”
The sound of his voice jerked me back from where I’d had my nose buried in his shirt. Turning my face into the wind, I shook my head without answering.
“You told me that I smell like lust all the time. What exactly does that smell like to you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay, but not talking will make me paranoid. Piepen’s tastes and smells bad, right?”
“You’re not like Piepen,” I muttered.
“So I’m a little better.”
“You’re a lot better, Fenris. Does that help your ego?”
“Ouch. You’re being mean.”
I dropped my head back against his shoulder.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Your lust smells sweet and rich like chocolate right now. Piepen’s smells pungent and bitter, like a skunk. The dryads smelled like earth and rain.”
“Interesting.”
“Annoying.”
He chuckled and started to slow. Ahead, I saw the cabin through the trees.
“I think I can walk from here.”
He released me and ran ahead to start the fire. Alone, I took a few calming breaths and made my way to Fenris’s sanctuary while wondering what he found so interesting in knowing how he smelled to me. I wryly grinned when I realized I was questioning a wolf’s interest in scents. Of course, he’d find that interesting. Then, I wondered if the real draw was due to the difference in what I smelled on him, Piepen, and the dryads to what he smelled on them. Probably. I guessed that was pretty fascinating.
My newly regained composure shattered the moment I entered the cabin.
Fenris crouched near the fireplace, leaning over to blow gently on the tinder until the flames grew. I wasn’t paying attention to that, though. My gaze fixated on Fenris’s bare back and the warm glow of light that played on each muscled ridge.
“Where’s your shirt?” I croaked.
He straightened, turning toward me as he pointed toward the material hung near the fire.
“It’s still damp.”
The rich, sweet scent of his lust filled my nose, and my hunger stretched inside of me as if waking from a short nap. My gaze drifted to his chest, and I remembered the feel of my lips against his skin. A tingle of need shivered through me.
“I can’t stay here.” Even as I said it, I wanted to step toward him. My stomach growled in agreement.
Fenris sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
