He huffs and steps closer until he can put his nose in the crook of my neck. I feel him inhale, his warm breath tickling my skin when he breathes out again.
I don’t know how long we stay like that: Me with my hands buried in his thick fur, Lynx with his head now resting on my shoulder. It’s the most relaxed and peaceful I’ve felt in days. Like we’re in our own little bubble and the world outside has ceased to exist.
I could stay here, I think to myself.
If only it was that simple.
Eventually Lynx sighs and walks back far enough that he can see my face. I think he’s about to shift back to human, but instead he makes this low bark-type sound and dances back a couple more paces.
“Really?” It’s pretty obvious what he wants, but I’m not sure I’m up for a walk through the forest. “I’ve been injured, you know.”
He grins—that’s the only way to describe it—then turns and races off into the trees.
Right, then.
I’m definitely not up for a run.
Before I’ve even stood up, he’s back, skidding to a halt so close to me, I almost fall over. And I swear he’s laughing at me. “Funny.” I scowl, but he’s off again before I can say anything else.
I guess he needed to burn some energy because Lynx spends the next half an hour racing through the trees as I walk along the path. He’s so quick on his feet, most of the time he’s a blur through the trees. As the light fades, I find it harder and harder to pick him out, until I lose track of him completely.
I turn around in a circle, straining to see in the low light, but he’s vanished.
“Morgan.”
I jump a mile in the air, my heart doing the same as I whirl around, clutching my chest. “Wanker!” I hiss. “You took years off my—” The rest of that sentence dies on my tongue as I turn and finally spot him.
Jesus Christ.
He’s about ten feet away, leaning against a tree in a small clearing.
Gloriously and unashamedly naked.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than Lynx Harper by moonlight.
“Come here,” he whispers and beckons me over with his finger.
I hesitate. Something about this feels oddly familiar, but it can’t. I think I’d remember being in a forest with a naked MC president. I walk towards him, slowly though, and he grins back at me. When I’m close enough, he grabs my hand and tugs me the last few steps so that I fall against him. I let out an oomph, inhaling sharply as he ducks his head to my throat and breathes deep.
There’s that feeling again.
The strongest sense of déjà vu.
“Fuck, you smell good,” Lynx growls, sending a shiver through me.
Man, that voice.
That voice.
I rear back, wide eyed. “It’syou.” I thought I’d imagined that night. I was so fucking hungover the following day but... “From the night of the fundraiser.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I’m starting to think maybe I’m wrong, but then he sighs. “I didn’t think you remembered.”
Once again, I’m lost for words.
Or maybe not, because some manage to force their way out. “We kissed.” I shake my head as the memories do their best toswim to the surface. “I came in my jeans, and it was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. And then youleft.” I take a step back and he reaches for me, but I sidestep his hand. “All this time, you knew and you never said anything.Why?”
“Fuck.”
