“Humans don’t have fur they can shift into whenever the mood suits them.”
“Sucks to be them,” he huffed before finally getting out and walking around to the back of the truck. “How about we divide and conquer?”
“How so?”
“We carry the first batch in together, then you start getting things put away and the coffee brewing, while I finish unloading the SUV. Once it’s empty, I’ll jump in and help finish getting everything situated so we can go roll in the snow.”
“Works for me,” I said, as he picked up the tote containing our staples and carried it in.
I’d inquired about the style of coffee maker in each cabin after reading on the website that they were provided. The rather cheerful receptionist had explained that they were the single-use pod kind, which was what Maverick and I both had in our apartments. At the bakery, we had an old-school coffee pot that was constantly being refilled several times a day, but that was only because many of our employees were caffeine fiends like us. I filled the well so it could heat while I unloaded our cooler of meat into the freezer, heavy on the beef and fish.
I heard him come in twice before his coffee was ready, light on the sugar, a bit heavy on the cream. Yes, I knew how he took it; we’d practically grown up together and opened the bakery of our dreams just as soon as we’d scraped up enough cash. My folks were still pissed that I hadn’t gone to college; his were still furious that he didn’t work harder at finding his mate. As far as we were concerned, we were mates, despite never receiving the mating marks we craved. It was yet another thing our parents had come to disapprove of about our relationship, but we were well past the age when they had any sort of say in how we lived our lives.
I got so lost in arranging everything in the cupboards that I jumped when he wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled the back of my neck.
“The bedroom is set up,” he remarked. “Clothes put away, toiletries deposited in the bathroom, fuzzy blanket spread out over the bed, and boots in the shoe tray by the front door, not that I expect us to need them. Now I intend to savor this.”
With a light nip to the side of my neck, he turned me loose and reached for his coffee, sighing as he leaned up against the counter and took the first sip.
“I’ve just about got everything settled in here,” I told him. “I left some cod in the fridge for dinner tonight. I was thinking maybe we’d have lemon rice and asparagus with it.”
“With those little pearl onions tossed in?” Maverick asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Nice! I’ll sear us up a couple steaks tomorrow night then with those garlic parmesan potatoes you love and cheesy cauliflower.”
“You are the only one I know who makes cauliflower in a way where I can actually eat it.”
“Which is why I’m always happy to make it for you,” he practically purred before taking another sip of his coffee. “Man, this is liquid bliss.”
“And hopefully well worth the wait,” I said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he remarked, shooting me a side-eye that I knew meant that he was not quite ready to forgive me for bypassing the coffee shop yet.
“You’ll get over it,” I said as I closed the cabinet door, satisfied that everything was organized in a way that would let us find what we wanted when we wanted it.
Despite being on vacation, we’d brought a box filled with flour, sugar, flavorings, and fillings, since we were constantly experimenting with different flavors to add to the bakery’s offerings. He favored the more exotic combinations, like fluffy key lime cookies, sweet vanilla-glaze drizzled mango, and mango-lime macadamia nut. His coconut macaroons were todie for, but when he’d started mixing raspberries in, it sent the whole flavor profile catapulting over the moon.
“Ready to get naked and go run?” he asked as I turned away from the cabinet to survey the rest of the kitchen, which boasted a huge bay window and a padded bench beneath it that complemented the table and matching bench that were pressed up against it.
The view, framed by brownish-red curtains covered with festive fall leaves, was positively stunning.
Rather than answering with words, I peeled my t-shirt off over my head and smirked as my hands drifted to the fastening on my jeans. Seeing him cast his t-shirt to the side and get it hooked on the chandelier made me chuckle, but when he dropped to his knees to crawl across the kitchen floor so he could undo my jeans with his teeth, I just stood there breathless. Even in skin, he moved with the grace of the cat he was, that we both were—snow leopards, to be exact. Not the biggest of cats, but if you asked me, we had the most stunning fur patterns out of all of them.
My cock twitched, already beginning to rise to the occasion when he unzipped me with his teeth, then reached up, nails morphing to claws as he hooked my jeans and dragged them down over my hips, lightly grazing my skin as he peeled them off me. That look in his eyes when he gazed up at me, heated, wicked, shimmering blue, left me sucking in a breath as he nuzzled my sack and rubbed his cheek over my rapidly rising cock.
Goddess, he was stunning this way, low, rumbly purrs humming from his throat as I reached for the soft ponytail holder that held his hair back and gently tugged it free. A curtain of white-blond hair tumbled forward, streaked through with gold and brown, warm when I stroked my hand over it, drawing a deeper, more contented purr from him.
That pink tongue of his flicked out, lapping over the head of my cock, teasing, tormenting me in that way he knew I positively loved. He never rushed, even when I petted and tried to coax him. He just nuzzled and licked, rubbed his cheek and hair against my aching dick, and mouthed the head of my cock from time to time, purring around my flesh and sending that vibration straight to my balls.
Groaning, I tilted my head back, fisted his hair in my hands, and moaned when he finally took more of me into his mouth. No matter how many times he did this, it always felt like being touched by this warm, cosmic energy that sent all the thoughts spinning from my head and turned my knees to jelly. The wet, slurping sounds he made were as erotic as the groans, hums, and sighs that tickled my cock and ramped up the intensity of every light caress up my thighs, his thumbs occasionally brushing across my sack as he toyed with me.
Gah! Growling, I clutched his hair tighter, always careful not to pull too hard, but damn, he had a soft, talented, sensitive mouth that soon sent me soaring. I swear, every time he made me come was like an out-of-body experience. Time froze, light dimmed, and there was nothing but the soft suckling of his lips and tongue as he milked the cum from me until I hissed and eased my hips back, withdrawing my soft cock from his mouth as I doubled over and pressed my forehead to the top of his head. His hands gripped my thighs tighter, his body sturdy as I glided my hands over his shoulders to rest on the small of his back. That was all that kept me from falling over and collapsing on the kitchen floor.
“How do you expect me to run after that?” I groaned, struggling to catch my breath as I sank to my knees, gliding a hand up his cheek and tilting his head up so I could kiss him and taste the essence of my releases on his tongue.
“Slowly,” he murmured with a teasing wink.
