“Shift,” I growled. And he did. He dropped his towel to the ground, and his body vibrated to the point of looking blurry, and like that, he was a wolf. It was the first time I was a man, and he was a wolf. It was certainly the first time I realized how striking his wolf was. It was perfect. Big. Huge. Easily as big as any one of The Brothers. His chest was broad. His fur, thick and lustrous. His stance and conformation were nothing short of ideal. “Fetch!” I said again. And that time, I threw the stick long and hard. Like I knew he would, he took off after it like a shot. When he brought it back, he had the stick in his teeth and was grinning wolfishly around it.
“Drop!” I said. He started snarling, but I could see in his eyes he was playing. I grabbed the stick and tried to pull it out of his grip, and when that didn’t work, I scratched him between the ears and said, “If you drop it, I’ll throw it again, dumbass.”
He dropped it begrudgingly, and before long, we had a nice little game of fetch going. We played until he was panting.
“Told you you’d like playing fetch,” I said when he shifted back to human form.
He looked at me in disgust. “Oh, bite me.”
The second my wolf heard his words, I felt like I was nowhere near half man, half wolf. I was all wolf. All wild. Saliva pooled in my mouth. I closed my eyes tightly, but I knew they were still alight when I opened them and looked at him. Suddenly, I was the one whose chest was heaving.
“Jules,” I said tightly. “You can’t say that around me anymore, okay?”
“Why not?”
“You can’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it. Don’t do it again.”
He seemed to lose interest in the conversation and gave me a shrug. We bathed in the river in silence. When we came out, he was erect. I looked away quickly, but he noticed. He looked down and shook his head.
“Jesus, bud. Piss off already,” he said to his cock. “Sorry, I guess it must just be a hangover from the heat.”
“I guess.” I swallowed hard. It wasn’t like me to lie to Jules. “Maybe we should head back and try to get some sleep.” I was exhausted. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had a good night’s sleep.
“But we just woke up? We literally ate breakfast a couple of hours ago.”
“You were up most of the night. You must be tired. Your body needs rest.”
He grumbled as we walked home, but when we got there, he climbed into bed.
“Make me go to sleep,” he said. “Do that eye thing. I’m feeling all wired up. I won’t go to sleep on my own.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want tomakeyou do anything.”
“I want you to. I told you, it feels nice.”
He was lying on his back, looking up at me. I leaned over him, placing my hands on the mattress on either side of his head. I tried not to think about leaning down more and brushing my lips against his. “I’m not even sure I know how to do it.”
“You know.”
He said it with such conviction, I thought he must be right. I thought of his face and his lips and the fact he was lying on his back. I thought of his exposed neck, and I thought of all the things I wanted from him and all the things I wanted to give him. It didn’t work. I stilled my mind. I thought of myself, my will, my way, and my place in the world. My vision brightened. A quick flash was all it was, but it was enough. Jules’s eyes went dreamy, and his top lip pulled up on one side, exposing a hint of an incisor.
“Everything’s fine, Jules. Relax and go to sleep, okay?”
He nodded and sighed softly. I lay down beside him; I was tired in my bones. Bone tired. If the way Jules smelled meant anything at all, I knew my body needed rest, too. It needed it badly. To my amazement, I fell into a dead, dreamless sleep almost immediately.
It was nighttime by the time I woke up. Late. Maybe nine or ten. I struggled to pry my eyes open and spent several minutes working through a strong sense of confusion about what time and day it was. I felt as though I’d been yanked straight out of another dimension.
I could hear Jules outside. He’d grilled steak. He’d already eaten and had left a big slab of sirloin on a plate for me. It was cold, but I didn’t complain. One look at him told me it wouldn’t be wise. His lips were darker than usual, and his hair was disheveled. He was wearing a checked flannel shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and an old pair of jeans. For Jules, it was a much less casual outfit than normal. He looked like he was headed out for the night. Like he was on his way somewhere special.
God, he looked hot.
He looked at me almost accusingly as I ate, and now and again, he lifted his shirt at his sternum, flapping it slightly to let some air in. He swiped the back of his hand against his top lip. He didn’t just look hot. He was hot. I could tell.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No. No, I’m not fucking okay. I’m burning. I feel like I’m on fire. Did you know?” There was no doubt about it. There was definitely an accusation in his voice. “Did you know I was still in heat?”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
