* * *
As the stormraged through the night and next day, Brenna happily helped tick off Eric’s list of wants, as well as some of her own. With no sign of the blizzard letting up, it looked as though they might make it through the sexual marathon his imagination had planned.
Hours later, content and spent, they lay entangled on a bed in one of the upstairs rooms.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Eric said as he trailed kisses up her body, which gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. The soft cotton sheets stuck to the underside of her thighs.
Her stomach rumbled.
Eric glanced up. His hair mussed, his own body slightly sweaty, his gaze burning with green intensity.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Always.”
“Mmmm.” He continued his kissing path upward.
“I also want real food.”
His chest rumbled as he chuckled and rolled off her.
The bed they’d claimed for the continuation of their sex-capades lay in disarray—the sheets rumpled and untucked. The room smelled of wood panelling and wool blankets.
“I also need a shower,” she said.
“I don’t think a loofa will cure that dirty mind.”
She smacked his shoulder. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He winked.
She stretched her arms over her head and extended her legs. Her muscles a dichotomy of limber and stiff. Her body, deeply satiated and relieved of months and months of sexual tension, now grew stiff from their rather rigorous schedule and ambitious positions.
“Okay, until the power comes back, an actual shower is out,” Eric said. “But there should be enough water in the tank to fill a bowl and we have some bottled water. I could arrange sponge baths for our mutual satisfaction. Then we could delve into a hearty breakfast.”
“Lunch.”
He peered out the window and squinted. “Lunch.”
She waited for Maisie to perk up. That wolf loved everything food related. The werewolf remained quiet. The few times Brenna had reached out, Maisie gently pushed her away, sighing in content bliss. Wow. Her wolf’s lust must really be sated if not even food elicited a response.
Brenna’s stomach rumbled at the promise of food. “Independent sponge baths first. Then food. I have a feeling your idea of bathing will lead to something else.”
“See?” He ran a finger down her bare arm. “Dirty mind.”
She snorted, pushed his arm away and sauntered off to find what she needed for a sponge bath. Without power, the hope of an actual shower was out, but she could heat some water, find a cloth and make do. After she finished, Eric took a turn.
After their “baths,” they returned to the bedroom to change. Brenna’s clothes from the previous night still hung in front of the fire, crusted with dried hot chocolate. So she went on a hunt for spare clothing. With an easy silence, Brenna climbed into a dark maroon velvet dress with a lace back and hem. She’d found it in a closet and smiled as memories poured through her mind. She’d forgotten it here ages ago for a rare appearance at one of her parents’ New Year’s Eve parties, but thankfully it still fit. Anything was better than wearing the snow, dirt, and hot chocolate encrusted clothing from yesterday.
Eric slipped a pair of sweatpants over his ass. His previously borrowed clothes lay in tatters after he had to shift into a werewolf, but he discovered more clothing stashed in one of the dressers upstairs. Shifters stashed clothes everywhere they could. He lifted the shirt he found from the bed and his gaze flicked to her.
She shook her head. Why bother with the shirt when she’d just rip it off him later?
His grin widened, and he left the shirt on the bed. His muscles rippled, and she drank in the sight of his well-toned body. That V killed her.
A memory of tracing it with her tongue streaked through her mind. Mmmm.
“Come on.” Eric grabbed her hand and led her to the kitchen. He made instant coffee by boiling water in a pot over the fire while Brenna made sandwiches.
