“No one but us.” I tossed my shirt aside, watching her carefully. “Trust me?”
She hesitated, then pulled her clothes off, standing bare in the December chill.
Her skin glowed in the fading light, but it was her spirit I was trying to revive.
“Ready?” I asked, already feeling the shift in me.
“More than,” she said, a spark returning to her voice.
She transformed; her russet and white wolf was magnificent in the evening light. We were off, bounding through the trees, wild and free.
My own white wolf moved with hers, a perfect rhythm that set us both loose. Her stress fell away with each stride, each leap over tangled roots and fallen branches. We ran through the thickening shadows, the cold air filling our lungs and driving us faster. Faster than our fears, faster than the chaos nipping at our heels.
We made it to the ridge, the horizon endless in the distance. The two of us howled into the open air, a declaration of defiance. Of life.
Savannah nipped at my heels, her playful growls a challenge. I lunged at her, and we tumbled through the brittle grass, a tumble of limbs and fur and fire. Her spirit was wild again, free of therestraints that had been closing in on her. My wolf chased hers through the darkening sky until neither of us could breathe.
We made our way back to the house, reluctant to let go of the release we’d found. I shifted first, the crisp night air a stark contrast to my warm skin. She followed, auburn hair tumbling loose around her bare shoulders.
I was on her before she could catch her breath, scooping her up and carrying her inside. “Feel better?” I asked, a growl in my voice. Her laughter was the answer I wanted.
Her eyes sparkled with challenge as she playfully struggled in my arms. I squeezed her tighter, felt her surrender, felt her own desire rising to meet mine. I took the stairs two at a time, my need for her almost as fierce as it had been last night. The run had done its work, had broken through the tension that threatened to pull her under.
“Bath,” I said, knowing it wasn’t all we’d have before this was over.
She grinned, wild and beautiful. “Spoiling me,” she teased.
“You deserve it.” I set her down, slipping her robe over her shoulders as I filled the tub.
The water steamed, a hot promise against the cold night air. I poured oil and salts into the tub, the scent of lavender thick and heady. She watched me, her gaze steady and bright.
“Coming in?” She asked, already slipping into the heat.
“Think you can handle it?” I joined her, the water biting at first, then soothing.
Her laughter floated through the room. “That’s my line,” she said, splashing me.
Her smile was more than I’d hoped for. Her happiness more than I deserved.
I pulled her close, felt her tension finally unwind as the water worked its magic.
My hands found her shoulders, tracing patterns across her skin. I kneaded gently, her soft sighs spurring me on. She closed her eyes, her head falling back, her body relaxed and willing.
“Like this?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded, her breathing slower, easier.
I gathered her hair in my hands, grabbing a hair tie from the vanity next to the tub and pulled it into a messy bun so I could kiss the nape of her neck.
“So much better,” she said, the words soft and sure.
“Good,” I replied, kissing her again, letting my lips linger where her pulse beat strong and fast.
The sponge found its way to my hand, and I soaked it, letting the suds drip down her body, watching them trail between her breasts. I washed her arms, her chest, her stomach, each touch teasing, tempting. The water was losing its heat, but we were not.
Her hands found my thighs, and I nearly lost myself right then.
“Savannah,” I warned, her name a groan on my lips.
