“I am responsible,” Kenny told her. “If there’s too much damage, you can go to hawk and come back to human.”
She shook her head as she stepped out of the tub. “I’m going to enjoy every bruise until it heals, thank-you-very-much.”
Boone sat on the edge of the hot tub, spun around, and stood. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped a towel around his waist. “You’re welcome.”
Kenny checked over her breasts, then had her bend over the bed so he could check her ass and the backs of her thighs.
“On the bed, on your back, and grab your ankles. One more spot to check.”
She rolled her eyes but did as he said, and the first thought that went through his head was that if she was his, she’d be punished for that eyeroll.
And it made him stop short.
Because he realized he wanted her to be his.
* * * *
Boone made a point of checking her asshole over while Kenny had her sprawled out and open, and then he handed over her clothes.
In his mind,thisofficially ended the power exchange.
He could count on one hand the number of shifters who’d taken him in the ass without safewording on the first attempt, but this hadn’t just been about her taking his size — it was about her letting him push past her perceived limits because she trusted him.
The thing about shifters is that everything heals when you go to your animal and come back to human.
Pussies stay devirginized for most shifters, including wolves and hawks, but assholes do not. All that stretching and getting used to taking a huge dick, and you lose it when you shift.
Since Boone loved opening women past what they think they can handle, shifters were the best of all worlds for him.
Silas had bacon frying when they all hit the kitchen, and he announced, “Boone, cut the mushrooms, Kenny, get all the condiments and fixin’s out. Girly, you’re on potatoes.”
“Yeah, I’ll give youGirly,” Willow said with a smile, and Boone had to step back to keep from popping her on the ass.
Damn, he’d gotten too used to thinking of her as his. Okay,theirs, but still.
She got started on the potatoes, and Silas said, “Nice knifework. Is there a story?”
She glanced up, went back to work. “My grandmother taught me. She’s like the Tasmanian devil with knives when she’s prepping.”
They ate until even Boone leaned back with a satisfied grunt. Conversation meandered to the slide, the road work, weather patterns. Nothing heavy.
And Boone kept thinking how badly he wanted more of her.
When Willow finally pushed back from the table after fully stuffing herself, she said, “I should head back to my place. I’ve been here nearly thirteen hours, and it’s been a long day.”
They walked her to her cabin, waited until she was inside before heading back.
In their own cabin, Boone closed the door, and Kenny asked, “So, was that a one-off?”
Silas opened the cabinet, pulled whiskey down and three glasses.
“Far as I’m concerned, I’d like to see if she’s willing to see us once we’re home.”
A wave of relief flowed through Boone. “Fuck yes. So glad I’m not the only one thinking that.”
Kenny’s gaze was steady on both of them. “And how would that work? Three wolves sharing a hawk full-time?”
Boone shook his head. “Three men sharing a woman. We’re more than our animals.”
