“Tyson… we need to talk about you fucking me,” My eyes fly to the ceiling. I realize it’s likely he can’t hear me as his head is under the running water. He finally rises to sitting and squeezes his hair of excess water. “We need to talk about you fucking me. About you not fucking me, I mean,” I feel my face go red. “I need to go home. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, you seem very… sweet, but…”
He lunges forward and water spills over the side. He puts his mouth to mine, cupping my jaw. My eyes drift shut as I let him steal the words from my mouth. He kisses sweetly at first, and then he’s kissing with tongue and making that vibrating purr sound again and my nipples are tingling. I’m clutching both sides of the tub and then he’s licking my throat.
“Please don’t try to fuck me again,” I plead. “I can’t.”
“Then don’t talk about having to go,” he threatens and backs away.
I have a full body shudder.
He climbs out of the tub and shakes his head rapidly from side to side.
Water is flying everywhere.
I squeal and squint.
Holy shit, he’s shaking the water off like a dog.
“Towels are a lot more effective, Ty,” I suggest, blinking, laughing.
He laughs hard. “I forgot.” He fetches a towel from the rod and rubs his body, still laughing.
I twist the taps off and pull the plug.
“I never laughed before. I like it,” he says. “It’s fun. It feels good in here.” He points to his stomach. “and here.” He points to his chest and leaves.
My expression drops.
Never laughed before?
He comes back with another towel and reaches out to take my hand. As I stand, feeling bashful about the way his eyes devour my naked body, his muscles are bulging in his jaw and he’s examining my face, trying to read my expression, I think.
I try to take the towel as I step over the tub onto the sopping wet bathmat, but he doesn’t let go of it. Instead, he moves closer and dries me, staring into my eyes as he does.
I stand there while he gently dries me. He grabs my waist with one hand and lifts one foot in the other. “Hold on so you don’t fall.” I grab his shoulder and he dries even the bottoms of my feet. I’m watching him and thinking holy shit… Some girl some day is going to be very, very lucky to be your wife. And then it dawns.
I could be that girl.
I could be.
He wants me to be.
He thinks I am that girl.
I swallow down a lump in my throat. My chest feels strange.
He looks up. “What’s the matter? Is your wrist still hurting?” He looks at it. It’s a fairly ugly purple. Regret washes across his features again and it hits me in the chest as he kisses it.
“It’s okay,” I say, and he rises and begins drying my hair with the towel.
I’m biting my lip.
“What are you cooking for me?”
“Um, how about bacon and eggs? I’m starved and that won’t take long.” I reach for, then hang the wet bathmat over the side of the tub.
He shrugs. “Bacon and eggs. I’ll try it.”
“Try it? Haven’t you had it before?” I’m wondering if this is going to be as foreign to him as a banana.
“Well…” He looks like he’s sifting through his mind. “I’m not sure. I’ve done my eating as wolf except when I was very young and couldn’t shift yet and one other time when I was having a problem with shifting for several days. So, maybe. I don’t know.”
“You ate canned peaches as a wolf?” I ask, laughing as I wrap the towel around myself and head back to his bedroom. He follows. I reach for my bag, for a change of clothes. My iPad is there, too. I have no idea if my phone was in the car and he left it or if it’s outside the car somewhere. I chew my cheek thoughtfully and sift through for the cord.
“No, I ate canned peaches when I shifted. I shifted about a month each year until he died. I’d be man during the day and shift to wolf and run and hunt at night. After efforts to find a mate.”
He reaches into the armoire and pulls out a pair of trackpants and puts them on. He slicks his wet hair back with his fingers.
“My uncle bought this cabin for us when I was an infant and purchased some items to care for me until I was old enough to shift. I don’t know what I ate as an infant or a small child. My memories are hazy because it’s been so long since I was man. But, when I hit puberty I remember problems shifting for a time, so he provided some man-food to me. Canned fruit was something I ate a lot of. I didn’t grow tired of it.” He shrugs.