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Alaska Lights

Page 50

by January Rayne

The shower turns off, and I hold my breath, realizing I have less than a few seconds to get back to the kitchen and put these clothes in the wash. Ignoring the pull to my mate, I leave him behind, and it’s as if I’ve left a piece of me there, hoping he picks it up.

I want him to keep that piece of me.

I want him to keep me.

I’ve never belonged to anyone before, and I’d like for him to be the first.

The last.

Tucking myself back into my sweatpants, my cock still isn’t satisfied with the quick stroke, the temporary bliss masturbation gives. I want Leo, and I fucking crave him in every part of my body.

Clutching the clothes in one hand, I blur to the laundry room that’s next to Glenn’s bedroom. I toss the clothes in the old unsteady washer, the evidence officially hidden.

“I’m starving!” Leo shouts from the bedroom, thinking I’m down the hall in the kitchen.

In another mad dash, I sprint to the kitchen, snagging a plate off the stack next to the oven. Glenn typically makes breakfast, but today, I wanted to. I want Leo to know I can take care of him. Using a giant spoon, I scoop seasoned scrambled eggs onto his plate, crispy bacon, hash browns, and three pancakes.

How much do humans eat? I can’t remember. This should be enough, right? I place it in the microwave to warm it up some and think about how to ask him out on a date.

Fuck. A date.

I don’t even know how to date.

I’ve actually never really been on one.

The microwave beeps, and I pull the plate out, setting it on the table for him. Then I snag a fork, knife, and place them on a paper towel next to the steaming plate.

He’s going to want coffee or juice or both. Humans like to have options. He needs syrup too. Pouring him coffee into a mug, then juice into a small glass, I set those in front of his plate, followed by a small jar of birch syrup I collected myself.

That’s good, right? I don’t know. It still doesn’t look like enough. I should have cooked a steak.

“Wow. It smells so good in here.”

I’m startled. Leo’s voice pulls me from the worry that I’m not taking care of him well enough. I turn my head, catching him tugging his shirt on, my shirt, and I’m able to see miles of smooth, dark golden skin.

I bet he is even softer than he looks.

“Um. Here. I made you a plate.” I tug the chair out for him, the legs grinding against the hardwood like always.

This side of the floor doesn’t have a lot of groove marks, though, because me, Soren, and Glenn like to sit in the same spots, so this chair doesn’t get used very often.

Until now.

Maybe Leo will make his own grooves in my floor, making himself right at home.

Imagining a future is something I’m not used to. It’s nice. I haven’t had anything to look forward to before except death.

“You made that for me?” He sounds so surprised, inching his way forward. “Wow. That’s a lot of food.”

Good. I made the plate well, then. My mate deserves to eat like a king.

His stomach growls so loudly, his scent changes with embarrassment.

“I think you’ll eat it all if your stomach has anything to say about it.”

Leo sits down, and I push his chair closer, harder than I intended, the edge of the table digging into his ribs.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”