I got out, walked around, and opened her door. She slid out, more graceful than I expected, and stood on her own two feet.
But she didn’t make it two steps before she turned and threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. She shook, maybe from the cold, maybe from everything she’d held in all night.
I held her tight, the only thing in the world that made sense.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re safe now.”
She nodded against my shirt, and I felt her start to relax.
“I’m sorry,” she said, muffled.
“Don’t be. Not ever.”
I picked her up bridal style, and carried her to the door, her keys jangling in my hand. She laughed, weak but alive.
“You know, you don’t have to do this,” she said.
I smiled. “I like holding you.”
She looked up at me, and for the first time all night, she smiled back.
I set her down inside the apartment and closed the door behind us. She slumped onto the couch, and I knelt down to take off her boots.
“I think I drank too much,” she said, voice small.
“Probably.”
“Will you stay until I fall asleep?”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”
There are a hundred ways to spend a night with the woman you want. This wasn’t any of them. Aspen barely made it to the bathroom before she was on her knees, and I dropped beside her, holding her hair back as she puked up a night’s worth of courage and heartbreak into the toilet. I stroked her spine, slow and steady, the way I’d comforted a hundred wounded wolves before her. She heaved and shook, tiny, shivering, and at one point started crying and apologizing in the same breath.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, knuckles white on the rim. “I didn’t mean to—oh God—” She launched again, and I kept her hair in a ponytail with one hand, rubbing circles into her back with the other.
“Shhh, you’re okay, Sunshine. Happens to the best of us.” I grabbed a washcloth, ran it under cool water, and held it to her forehead while she spat, wiped her mouth, and started another round of tears.
“I’m a mess,” she whimpered, slumping against the tub. “You probably think I’m disgusting.”
“Not even close.” I wiped her face, gentle as I could, and grabbed a hair tie from her counter. “You look adorable, even like this.”
She closed her eyes and let me clean her up. I rinsed her mouth with water, found a fresh toothbrush under the sink, and waited as she brushed with the grim focus of a soldier field-dressing a wound.
When she finished, Aspen let herself collapse against my chest, half-buried in my arms, and the smell of her sweat and vanilla shampoo was so sharp and right I nearly lost my own composure.
“Can you get me to the bed?” she whispered. “I don’t think I can walk.”
I picked her up again and carried her across the hall and into her bedroom. The quilt on the mattress was a patchwork ofblue and yellow, brighter than any I’d ever seen. I set her down and turned away, giving her a sliver of dignity. She fumbled with her top, but her hands were too uncoordinated to do much more than tangle in the fabric.
I hesitated, then cleared my throat. “Want me to help?”
She nodded, not meeting my eyes. “Please.”
I unhooked her belt and then lifted her arms out of her sweater with the care of a man handling a live grenade. I tried to be clinical, but her skin was soft and warm under my fingers, and the line of her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder, made my mouth go dry. I pulled it the rest of the way over her head. She wore a plain black bra beneath, full coverage but somehow more intimate than anything lacy. I looked away as I slid the sweater off, but I saw her smiling, shy and fierce, in the lamplight.
I removed her boots and then had her stand as I knelt before her and unzipped her skirt. It fell away and pooled at her feet, and I tapped each leg for her to step out so I could set it aside. My hands shook as I reached up for the waistband of her tights. I wanted so much to take her panties down with them and bury my face in her sweet-smelling pussy then eat her until the sun came up. The scent of her arousal was making everything I did almost impossible.
“Sit down, Sunshine.” She followed my order immediately her eyes not leaving mine. Good fucking witchling. I pulled a long t-shirt from the dresser. “Arms up.” I slipped it over her head. The whole time, I kept my hands gentle, my movements deliberate, but I knew my wolf’s eyes were glowing in the dark. “Good girl. Now lie back on your pillow.”
