At his words, I found myself moving toward him without realizing what I was doing. Both sides of me—wolf and man—were in perfect unison.
Harris watched my approach, his lips parted. And I knew, through the connection thrumming between us, soul-deep, that he wanted this too.
I got close to him, breathing in his scent—bourbon and new growth in the forest, full of mystery and possibility—and his breath was warm on my lips. He was trembling again, but this time I knew it wasn’t from anything mystical. It was the simple mix of fear and anticipation that came from real closeness to another person. Not mere physical proximity, but something running deeper than that.
And I was trembling, too. Suddenly, I wasn’t Reed, the alpha of the Crescent Springs wolf pack. I was just a guy realizing he was probably about to plunge head over heels for another man—and that I was about to risk everything by kissing him.
But I still paused, searching his gaze. “Can I?”
His voice was even and steady. “Yes.”
I pressed my lips to his. They were firm and a little rough, but when he parted his mouth and I did the same, he deepened the kiss, making it more intimate, almost forceful. His strong arms circled me and he pressed me to him. My cock stirred and a wave of bliss rolled through me at his touch.
Somehow, being close to Harris was like coming home. With him, I didn’t give a shit about power or dominance. I submitted to him easily, because I instinctively understood I didn’t need to be in control with him. He could be in charge for a little while and that was okay. It was more than okay.
It was…freeing.
I had been in charge for far too long, without even a moment’s release from it. I needed this. I needed him. That was the bald, naked truth.
And his kiss—because even thoughIhad initiated it,hehad firmly taken over—was healing in a way I hadn’t even known I craved.
When he pulled back, breathless, I let out a strangled noise and reached for him. “Harris—”
“Soon,” he said. He hesitated. “But we need to go slow, okay? I’ve never—with a guy. I’ve never done anything. And I don’t want to screw this up by going too fast.”
I took a deep breath, reorienting myself. It wasn’t just about my needs. It was about his, as well. My inner wolf seemed to agree—temporarily sated by the contact and ready to give him exactly what he said he needed.
I nodded. “I understand. We can go at your pace.” Then I paused. “But that was… really nice.”
Harris grinned at me, his eyes filling with light and mischief. There was a too-sweet pang in my chest, as if Cupid had gone and shot me point-blank through the heart.
“It was better than nice, Reed,” he assured me. “It was goddamn perfect.”
* * *
“So, this is the best burger spot in town,” I told Harris an hour later, gesturing to the interior of the restaurant. “Their beer is okay, too. Ours is better.”
“It’s the same beer,” Sally said with her sharp British accent, giving me a good-natured eye roll as she approached us. She was a matronly woman with gray streaks in her dark hair and glasses perched on her nose. Dressed all in black, she looked almost like a witch, even though she was mundane as far as anyone knew.
“That’s true,” I said, chuckling.
Sally was the owner of the Crescent Springs Bar & Grill, the only other bar in town besides The Crescent Moon, not counting the ski lodge, which was only open a few months out of the year. And she was right. We used the exact same vendors.
“Table for two?” she asked, already collecting the menus.
I nodded and we followed her to a booth in the back. The interior was brown leather, brass studs, exposed dark wood everywhere, and incandescent lighting kept low. It reminded me of photos I had seen of English pubs, even though I had never been to the United Kingdom—or even out of the country at all.
“This is actually a pretty nice place,” Harris said, taking a seat across from me. “Reminds me of a cozy pub in Westminster or something.”
Sally gave him a once-over, setting the menus down on the table. “Oh, have you been to London?”
He turned sheepish. “No, my exposure to pretty much anywhere that isn’t the United States is only from movies and television shows.” He paused. “But I’ve always wanted to take a vacation there.”
“Well, it’s not as glamorous as the movies,” she said with a chuckle. “But make sure you do. Life is short, after all.” She paused. “Can I get you boys some drinks?”
“Just water.”
“It’s past five in London,” Sally countered.
