Page 54 of Cursed: Ride or Die
They turned at the same moment, catching each other’s gazes. This time Slade took the kiss deeper.
Noah slept deeply in the larger bed they’d shared. Slade slipped quietly out of the room. At some time during the night, Noah had shifted into a wolf. Which meant he’d wake hungry, in need of extra rest. What did it say for trust when the hunted werewolf didn’t budge?
The image of a wolf lying peacefully in Slade’s bed didn’t worry him. A sign of how warped he’d been by life? Or, like Noah, had he learned a bit of trust too?
He retrieved a sketch pad from the living room and sat on the side of the bed, studying his wolf in the early morning light streaming through the window. No need to worry about anyone seeing—if anyone remained in the park. To them, he’d seem like a man who let his dog sleep on the bed.
Slade traced out the features of Noah’s muzzle, head resting on his paws. The eyes would come later to ensure Slade did them justice. For a pencil drawing, he filled in details, shading light and dark, things the eye skimmed over in photographs.
Visions came to mind. He made notes: a starry background, blues and black blended in the right way. So many helmets featured a howling wolf, or a snarling wolf, showing the danger of a predator.
That’s not how Slade saw Noah. Noah had killed in self-defense, and even after hearing the story, Slade could hardly believe. He’d seen a painting of a mother wolf and her pups, but even the gentler side of the species wasn’t quite what he wanted to show.
He’d rented the cabin for a month. Accessing the Internet from his phone—thank God for Wi-Fi this far out—and found a few listings, the closest eighteen miles away. Clicking the link opened their website. Yes, everything seemed in order.
Slade called, making an appointment to use the shop off-hours. Funny how many body shop owners across the country knew of him and his videos.
Noah didn’t stir until ten when Slade stopped drawing to fry a pound of bacon, scramble a dozen eggs, and toast bread. The property manager had left a jar of homemade blackberry jam in the cupboard as a welcome gift, which Slade served with real butter from a nearby market. Though they hadn’t discussed particulars, a wolf’s palate probably wasn’t well-suited for all the artificial ingredients humans used regularly.
Lastly, he put on a pot of coffee.
The scent of sizzling bacon delivered a wake-up call. Noah appeared in the kitchen doorway, a bit shy but wearing only a pair of shorts. Unfortunately, his getaway bag held few clothes. They’d have to get him more before the weather turned too cool.
What? Slade was acting as though they’d still be together. Something in the vicinity of his heart twanged at the possibility of the opposite.
“Smells so good.” Noah eased his way toward Slade. For all the trust they seemed to be building, the werewolf remained wary. He pulled Noah into a one-armed embrace while stirring eggs with his other hand and dropped a kiss on top of blond waves.
Noah tipped his head up, putting his newfound kissing skills to good use. What a natural, for Slade couldn’t possibly have been that good of a teacher.
They ate in silence, sharing smiles over the table. How natural everything felt, waking up to Noah, having breakfast together, planning their day.
A man could get used to this. “What do you think about hiking to the ridge we saw yesterday? Over by the lake?”
“Sounds good to me. I love the woods, but you somehow struck me as more of a city boy.” Flirting? From Noah. Oh, be still Slade’s wildly thumping heart. And the dash of seasoning the sultry smile added?
Slade never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to take Noah to bed and show him all he’d missed.
But no. Did the mating for life he’d learned from the Internet apply to werewolves too? “Do werewolves mate for life, as real wolves do?” Slade wanted to slap himself. How dare he imply Noah wasn’t a “real” wolf because he spent part of his time in human form?
Noah shrugged. “Paul never said how things work. He did mention having other lovers before bonding with his mate. When I was younger, he said he would tell me when I was older, and when I got older and began noticing guys instead of girls, the talk never came.”
“Did Paul know? About your sexuality, I mean.”Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,a little voice inside Slade shouted, expression definitely not Chuck’s.
“I think maybe he did.” Noah paused to eat a bite of toast. “I found some magazines with naked women in the house a few times. He wasn’t very good at hiding stuff. About the time I turned sixteen or so, he left magazines with men in more obvious places.” Noah gave a bittersweet smile. “I took that as approval or at least understanding.”
Interesting. “And what did you do with those magazines?”
“Read them until they fell apart, mostly.” Noah shot Slade a mischievous grin. “Wonderful articles.”
Slade barked out a laugh. “I’ll bet. I also bet you can’t remember a single one.” Several images from his own past came to mind.
“Oh, but I do.” Noah smiled sweetly. “I learned about human diseases and how to avoid them, not that I have to worry about them, but I also learned how things worked in the bedroom. Sometimes I even found out how the article ended.”
“But not often,” Slade supplied.
“No, not often. Especially in my teenage years.”
“What else did you like about the magazines?” Knowing Noah’s likes and dislikes would make the experience better for them if they had sex.Please let the wolf not be into BDSM.Once, after a three-day drug binge, Slade woke to find himself trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey in a cheap hotel room, with no idea how he’d gotten there.
