Page 34 of To the Moon
"We need a shower, and then we can make a trip to the kitchen to see if Bettina has any more of those cinnamon rolls." What I really wanted was an explanation. She seemed to know what was going on with us more than we did. Still, I didn't smell any delicious food waiting for us in the hall this time. Whatever had sparked the unsolicited room service was over now.
"She must hate me," he said. "We've been at it for three days."
"Why would she hate you?"
He raised his head from my shoulder to give me the full brunt of his glare. "She sent me to bed because I was sick, not horny!"
"I'm pretty sure it was both." His entire face pinched into a squint, but I kept going. "You were so horny, you were sick. Or something."
He huffed a breath, stirring his bangs from his forehead. "So what, your magical dick cured me?"
I grinned at him until he broke eye contact, rolled off his side of the bed, and dropped to the floor. "Oh, fuck, my legs are sore."
My thighs, hips, and quads ached, too. Every muscle in my back protested when I sat up, and a few joints popped when I stood.
Gunnar was on his feet and headed toward the bathroom. I blocked his way around the bed, and he glared up at me.
"What?"
I cupped his cheek and kissed the tip of his nose. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Trusting me. Whatever triggered this fuckfest, I'm glad I got to spend it with you."
"According to our wolves, you're the dumbass who triggered it."
"How?"
"By being all sexy alpha male and smelling so—" he was close to my armpit again, and when he inhaled, he gave me stink-face a cat would have been proud of. "Shower. Now."
He shoved past me to get to the bathroom. Iadjusted the shower's finicky fixtures until the temperature straddled the line between scalding and freezing.
Gunnar slid the other door open and moaned when the stream of water hit his tender muscles. I'd assumed my cock would be satisfied for days, or at least until tonight, but it was already semi-hard when I stepped into the stall behind him.
Unlike the frenzy of the past few days, I felt an overwhelming desire to take care of Gunnar. I showed him how to work the shampoo and soap dispensers when he asked, but then I took over, lathering the shampoo in his hair and turning him back to the spray to rinse it out.
With the soap, I scrubbed my pits first, and then I switched places with him, stealing the water so I could create a foamy masterpiece with his body. Once he was covered, and a little turned on, we switched places again. He rinsed while I got soapy.
Our gazes locked once he finished slicking suds from his feet, and something unspoken passed between us. The past three days had been sex, yes, but it was more than that. We were a team now. Together. Mates.
I thought he felt the same way, but then he frowned and twisted both water fixtures to off. "I need some air." Before I could respond, he slid the door open and vanished into a cloud of steam. I heard the sink run a couple times while I was still screwing around with the bubbles, and then a cold draft filled the shower, followed by the sound of the door closing.
It took me even longer to find the right water temperature, thanks to the soap still clinging to myfingers. Finally, I rinsed and toweled off, brushed my teeth as fast as I could, and darted back into the bedroom.
Gunnar sat on the corner of the bed, his towel still wrapped around his waist. "Do we need to go back to the other room for our clothes?"
"For now."
He nodded. "Are we staying there, or here?"
"It's up to you."
He curled over his knees with both hands on his forehead. "Do I have to decide right now?"
"No." I ventured a step closer so I could rub my fingers through the stubble at the back of his neck. "Breakfast will help."
He sat up, dropping his arms to his sides. He groaned when he tried to stand, so I helped him the rest of the way up with an arm around his waist.
