I nod at her purse. “Don’t believe me? Check your keys. One of them fits the front door.”
Shaking her head, she digs through her purse, withdrawing her keyring and sorting through the half-dozen keys on it. When she finds the brass one that I added to it when I was returning her car to her, she looks up at me in amazement. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”
“You’ve had a lot of other things to think about.”
She nods slowly. “Do we have to talk about that stuff tonight?” From her pleading expression, she doesn’t want to. She needs this night as much as I do.
“Absolutely not. We have better things to do. Like eat ice cream.” I scoop her off her feet, enjoying her breathless squeak, and carry her to the kitchen, where I set her down on the island counter. “Stay right there,” I warn, turning away to grab bowls and spoons and a carton of lactose-free Neapolitan ice cream from the freezer. I scoop out a portion, careful to get all three flavors in equal amounts. Before handing her a bowl, I add Cool Whip and a few cherries from a jar in the fridge.
“I’d ask how you know about my love of cherries, but I think I gave myself away at the bar,” she says, grinning as she takes her first bite. Her eyes roll back in her head at the taste, and she makes a filthy-sounding moan.
My cock instantly stiffens, and I have to adjust myself. “Have mercy on me, Julia.”
She giggles, pinkening. “I can’t help it. When something’s good, I’m pretty vocal.”
“Is that so?” Emboldened by her flirting, I step forward until I’m standing between her knees, so close to her that she has to put down her ice cream because the bowl won’t fit between us. I pick it up again and load the spoon with the creamy combination. “Open for me.”
Her tiny human tongue swipes her lower lip before she obeys, opening her mouth just far enough for me to deliver another bite. Her lids fall shut. “Mmm,” she breathes, before her eyes pop open again. “See?!” she demands. “I was trying not to.”
“I like it, pretty girl,” I murmur, unable to resist leaning forward to lick a small puff of whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. She whimpers at the touch of my tongue. “I want to hear all about it when you’re enjoying yourself.”
Chapter 16
Julia
“Open up for me, Julia.”
The spoon touches my lower lip and I part my mouth, eyes locked on his. The ice cream is rich, creamy, and so cold it makes my teeth ache for a second before it melts into pure sweetness on my tongue. I murmur my approval, and Ian’s golden-brown eyes, warm and wild, crinkle at the corners. His wolfish muzzle opens in a smile, his pleasure at my embarrassing little sounds a warm pulse in the air betweenus.
“Good?” he rumbles. He’s standing right between my legs, so the low vibration travels straight to my core.
I can only nod, swallowing the sweet chill. “So good.”
His cabin is just like him, warm and welcoming. Despite the fact that I’m in the middle of nowhere with a wulver I just met less than two weeks ago, I feel safe. It evensmellssafe in here, a mix of cedar and vanilla and Ian’s masculine spice that lowers my blood pressure.
He dangles a cherry in front of me, bouncing it against my lips until I snap at it, capturing it between my teeth. He gives a satisfied grunt that sends a pulse of desire to my pussy.
I’m glad I drove out here tonight. It was impulsive, but I think the extra day of anticipation would have turned me into an anxious mess. I might have backed out if I thought about it too much, and being here, beingwith himhere, feels right.
I worried it might feel wrong, even with Richard’s harsh reminder that he doesn’t care and doesn’t want to know. I thought it might feel twisted and wrong to be with Ian, even for practical purposes. But now that I’m here, I’m relieved that it doesn’t.
We can be friends and have fun while we do this. At some point, I’m going to slide off this kitchen counter and he’s going to slide his cock into me, butit doesn’t have to be that deep. We’re just going to make a baby.
The thought is a live wire in my stomach as Ian feeds me more of the ice cream sundae, occasionally stealing my breath when I can feel his denim-clad erection press up against the damp barrier of my panties.
After a few more bites, he sets the ice cream bowl on the rough-hewn kitchen counter beside me. His hands, so human, come up to frame my face.
He brings his lips close to mine and pauses, just millimeters between us. My blood heats up at his nearness. When I try to close the distance, the same hands cradling my jaw hold me back.
“Ask me to kiss you first, Julia,” he murmurs, thumb stroking down my cheek. “I said I wouldn’t do it again unless you asked, so say the words, pretty girl.”
“Please, would you?” It comes out strangled and breathless, but that’s all it takes for him to dip his head down for a cool, vanilla-flavored kiss.
It’s still not like a human kiss, far from it, but I enjoy it just as much. His muzzle is firm, his breath hot. His fur is soft against my cheeks. The kiss starts tender, a gentle exploration, but it builds quickly until both of us are making urgent, needy sounds. My fingers sink into the thick fur at his neck as I hold onto him desperately. It feels like I’m losing myselfin it, in my hunger for him. I hadn’t even known I was starving.
“I’ve waited my whole life to taste you,” he murmurs against my lips, his thumbs stroking my jawline.
“I want you,” I gasp without thinking, my thoughts about a practical, friendly insemination muddled by his touch and his body heat. I squirm on the counter, wishing for more friction.
