Page 62 of Howlin’ For You

“You’re just saying that because I let you chase me through the forest,” I try to joke. Try to relieve some of the pressure in my chest. It falls flat.

“Mm, maybe. But I still mean it.”

I know he does.

“I’m going to take you home now, Izzy,” he says, his knot slowly deflating. “I’m going to feed you, make you a nice bath, and soothe every sore muscle you have. Then I’m going to make love to you so slow and sweet that you’ll have to come to terms with just how absolutely crazy about you I am.”

“Okay,” I whisper into the small space between us because I’m going to let him.

He stands, his powerful thighs working as he walks around the space, gathering the literal scraps of my clothing. My eyes slide leisurely from his exposed chest to his cock, to all the places I want to map with my lips.

He slips his sweatpants on over himself, and I make a little grunt of displeasure at the loss of my view.

“Question.” I lean back into my little bed of leaves. “How am I getting out of here when you tore my clothes up?”

He takes a second before responding to simply gaze at my body. His eyes jump from place to place as if he’s trying to memorize every freckle. Every dimple.

“Boss?” I laugh. “You okay in there?”

“Better than okay. I’m fucking fantastic.” His grin is full of a levity I can’t pretend I don’t feel as well. “I brought a robe rolled up in my pocket just in case I got a little… enthusiastic. You can wear that.”

I shouldn’t be surprised by the forethought—the care he puts into every interaction with me. But the action wedges itself underneath my ribs and threatens to fill my chest to bursting.

“Carry me?” I ask softly, giving him a little piece of the vulnerability I feel.

He nods, knees falling to the soft ground beside me. He wraps the robe around me, tying it around my waist before lifting me to his chest and coming to a stand.

And I realize that this feels a little more permanent than I planned. Nick is more permanent than anything in my life, and I think I’m going to do everything I can to keep him.

If he means what he says, that is. If he really wants me.

And I allow myself to doze in his arms as the forest serenades us.

I don’t wake until I feel Nick’s arms shift and hear the jingle of keys as he pulls them from his back pocket. My eyes blink open as I take in my surroundings. He must have carried me all the way to his house in just his sweatpants.

I snuggle deeper into his chest, smiling to myself. A soft rumbling is my answer. It’s not a full growl, but it’s not breathing either…it’s…

“Are you purring?” I ask, unable to keep the resulting giggle away.

He kicks the door shut behind us, chuckling just a little. “No, Izzy, I’m not a cat. I was humming to help you sleep.”

“I don’t know. It sounded a lot like what my cat did when I was a kid.”

“Watch yourself, darling,” he chuckles, not putting me down as he ascends the stairs. His muscles shift against my body, and I have to actively try to repress the memories of how those exact muscles look while he’s fucking me.

I fail.

“And if I don’t?”

He settles me on his bed, hands lingering on the soft fabric of the robe, as if the thought of not touching me is entirely unacceptable. “Then you’ll have to watch me. I’ll tie you down and not let you come until you’re begging.”

My cheeks flame as he stands straight, his eyes cataloguing my body’s response to his words. Do I want that? There’s no doubt the idea is intriguing, but I’m not sure.

“I don’t want to be punished,” I whisper. “I don’t want to feel like I have to earn back your affection. I don’t want that.”

His bravado crumbles as he falls to his knees before me, gathering me to him until our noses touch. “No, no, petite copine. Never.”

I busy myself with smoothing my hands along his shoulders, something like shame sliding down my spine. Nick isn’t my parents.