Page 25 of The Patron Saint of Timber Hollow

Jay kisses my forehead, throwing his arm over my shoulder and enveloping me in his scent. "Just making sure, Gorgeous."

Suddenly, I'm of the mind to pull him into the corner of the gym, pull my shorts down, and make him lift me over those delicious shoulders and make me scream his name over and over. Immediately, I'm doing just that, pulling him along by his hand with a sly smile.

Jay follows me with only a furrowed brow.

"Do you want to make me feel better?" I ask when my shoulders are pressed to the mirrored wall. I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and pull them down an inch.

Jay's answer is immediate. "Absolutely."

"Good," I mumble. "That's good." Jay watches my every move. Slowly, I pull my shorts and underwear down, ordering, "Bend down." Jay does what I say, kneeling before me without hesitation. Sighing, I kiss him once, deep and thoroughly, our tongues dancing together. Then, placing my legs on his shoulders, I say, "Make me feel better, Handsome." His eyes shift, more blue than green in the soft lights. Jay presses a single kiss to each of my thighs while he stands, quickly lifting me, my shirt sliding against the mirror.

"I thought you'd never ask," Jay murmurs, lowering his mouth to my center, licking up my core, swirling around my clit. With one hand on my ass, he roughly rocks me back and forth, fucking me with his tongue.

His hat hits the floor with a thump as I thread my hand through his hair, holding him in place. He grunts, sucking my clit with a hum. A moan slips out of me when he hooks his thumb into my pussy, not moving it, just filling me while I ride his face.

Jay's free arm starts shaking beneath me, and I know without looking he's fucking his hand while he devours me; the thought makes my eyes roll back in my head, my hand pinching my nipple through my shirt.

"Jay-" I whine his name; my skin feels alive with pleasure, humming for release.

"That's it Gorgeous, fuck my face," Jay encourages me, his hand helping me rock, chasing pleasure on his tongue. With another cry that turns into a delirious moan from Jay lapping at my clit I cum, holding his face to my pussy. He groans softly, hips jerking.

And, for the second time this week, Saint walks in on Jay and me just as we finish. "Anybody want waffles?" he asks, green eyes watching my heaving chest, roving over my bare legs.

I can't help but laugh and say, "Yes, please, Cinnamon!" Jay chuckles against my clit, making me gasp and arch into him— forgetting Saint lurking in the doorway.

"You heard her. Yes, Chef." Jay murmurs back, swirling his tongue around my clit again. "But I need another ten… maybe fifteen." Then Jay's moving, pulling me down his body, hooking his arms under my knees. A very undignified, shocked squawk leaves my mouth as I'm being pulled down off of his shoulders, pinned against the mirror, and then impaled on Jay's cock. The sound turns into a whine as Jay starts to move, and then I meet Saint's green gaze over Jay's shoulders for just one second before my eyes roll back.

Another moan slips free of my mouth when Jay steps back, fucking me rough and deep, and I catch Saint's receding form in the mirror as he leaves the room.

"Jay-" I pant, trying to scold him for being rude, but his name comes out more like a moan.

"I can call him back if you want him to watch," Jay chuckles, still pounding into me.

"Just stop being rude-" I moan, rocking my hips in time with him.

"Don't worry, he's a big boy. He can take it. Just like you can," And then, Jay pulls out, slams my face into the mirror, and says, "Look at how beautiful you are while I'm fucking you." Our eyes lock in the mirror as he rushes back in, roughly filling me up again and again.

"Fuck, that feels good-" I moan, my scolding forgotten.

Saint

Hearing someone moaning someoneelse'sname shouldn't turn me on this much. But fuck, if Jay wasn't the luckiest son of a bitch in the fucking world. The way Artemis gripped her chest, rolling her nipple in her fingers, holding Jay exactly where she wanted him?

A wolf could get off on the sight alone.

Dante is nowhere in sight when I reach the kitchen, with his waffles and mine gone.

Typical Dante,my wolf mumbles.

Whistling, I set about whipping up a new batch of waffles and putting strawberries in Artemis' stack because I know she likes the berriesinsideand on top with whipped cream and butter more than she likes waffles with syrup.

Twelve minutes later, Jay and Artemis emerge, her cheeks flush, lips puffy, and a line of bite marks down her throat. Her brown eyes positivelyglow.The golden striations around her iris tell me her wolf is close to the surface. The way her hair is mussedjust makes me want to thread my fingers through it and pull her face to mine.

She'd tasted like honeyed liquor- sweet with a hidden fire. Like she could be the sweetest sin or your undoing. I'm dying to know if she tastes like that everywhere.

I want her. More than I think I've ever wanted anything in my entire life. As Jay meets my eyes, settling into the bar stool next to Artemis, I am thankful he knows and supports it.

Even if, in the meantime, the rat bastard is practically getting off on fucking her in front of me. I do have to find out why she's suddenly calling me Cinnamon, though. I doubt it has anything to do with my wolf's fur color.