21
Elliott makes quiche.
StandinginElliott’sdrivewaywith her eyes closed, Fern tipped her face to the sun. Olivia called out a goodbye, and he waved without looking when she pulled away to make a U-turn around the studio.
Wearing one of his big T-shirts and a pair of black bike shorts, hair twisted up on her head, a bag slung over one shoulder, and an incongruously glamorous bouquet in her hand, Fern looked like a sleepy delight. He wouldn’t mind taking her right back to bed.
“Hey, sugar,” he greeted, opening his arms for a hug.
Her eyes landed on him, and a smile washed across her face as she started forward. With a sigh, a rustle, and athunk, she reached him, handed off her flowers, and dropped her backpack to the steps. It tumbled to the path below.
“Don’teverdo that to me,” she commanded into his chest, her hold tight, long nails digging into his back.
He ran his hands up and down her spine.
Cheating. He fucking despised it. It was cruel, unnatural, and above all else: cowardly.
“You know I won’t. I don’t want to, I don’t have it in me, and Ican’t,” he reinforced, imagining she was running on very little sleep, her emotional well totally tapped out from supporting Renata.
But he was only human, or shifter, or whatever, and she smelled fucking amazing. His bear circled within him, though the beast would’ve preferred to come out and give her a good sniff himself. Inhaling deeply, Elliott reminded himself there was no rush; she wanted to be with him. It may not be today, but when she was ready, he would be, too.
Her soft, soothing scent of berries and jasmine calmed his zealous need to hurry through the super compelling, mark her, meet her animal, and claim each other forever. It didn’t fully abate, but enough that he could release her from their hug and give her a pat on the butt.
“Go inside, get in bed. I’ll bring your stuff in.”
“Get in bed?” she asked coyly. Then, bluntly, she added on, “To mate?”
He growled softly, and his bear joined in. Shedidwant to do it. “Don’t tempt me. I know you’re exhausted.”
“I could be roused.”
He grabbed her backpack from the ground outside, brushed a spot of dirt off the back, then climbed back up the steps. “And you will be—from a nap—in several hours.” Hooking a finger beneath her chin, he captured her sky-blue gaze and dropped his voice low, aiming for sexy and demanding. “Go inside, Fern. Get in bed. I want you curled up, under the blankets, and fast asleep within thirty minutes. Got it?”
She narrowed her eyes, and he thought she was going to argue, but her hands clasped the sides of his face, and she pulled him down, pressing a warm kiss to his confused mouth. “Got it.”
Fern smackedhimon the butt, then flounced inside, kicked her sandals off, and dashed to the bedroom, her shirt fluttering to the ground in her wake.
God, he fucking loved her.
Again, he was only shifter, so he snatched up her discarded shirt and threw it over his face, sucking in a stupidly deep breath just because he could. Tossing it on the dresser, he followed her across the room, appreciating her pert ass, snug as a bug in her little shorts.
She stepped out of those too, and his cock twitched.
In nothing but a pink thong that matched the underside of her hair, Fern climbed up the foot of the bed and fucking crawled to the pillows.
He groaned, “Fern.”
She popped up onto her toes, legs straightened, and ass in the air. Bracing on her elbows, she looked at him upside down between her legs. “Hmm?”
“Do you need help getting back to sleep?”
“Yep.”
Chuckling, Elliott walked around to her side, snapping her panties as he went.
She lay facing him, and he joined her, crooking one arm beneath his head and wrapping the other around her back. Satin-smooth, her warm skin heated his blood as he stroked down her spine and teased the globes of her ass.
Snuggling into his chest, arms around his middle, Fern tossed a leg up and over his thigh and arched her back, opening her center to him.
