Chapter 18 #2
Thirty minutes later he’s updating me while I reheat dinner.
The perimeter is still secure. There was no movement today.
The evidence goes public in four days, which I must admit makes me nervous.
He’s careful about what he tells me, I’ve noticed.
Giving me enough to understand the situation without drowning me in details that will keep me up at night.
I don’t push for more than he gives. I know he’s protecting me from the worst of it. I also know that protection is a language he speaks fluently and fighting him on it would be pointless.
We eat the dinner Maggie brought, which is some kind of stew with root vegetables and tender meat that falls apart on my fork. It tastes wonderful. Dinah weaves between our legs, hoping for scraps. Keric sneaks her a piece of meat when he thinks I’m not looking.
I wave a spoon at him. “I saw that,” I say.
He grins, exposing more of his white tusks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re going to spoil her.”
“She deserves to be spoiled.”
The normalcy of it—the bickering, the shared meal, the cat begging for food—feels fragile. Precious. Like something I need to hold carefully or it might shatter.
After dinner, we sit by the fire.
Not touching, but close enough that I can feel heat radiating off his large body. We were going to watch a movie together, but neither of us has turned on the TV. Silence stretches between us, but it’s not uncomfortable.
Keric breaks it first. “When this is over,” he says, his voice low and rough, “when the evidence is public and the threat is gone what do you want out of life?”
My breath catches.
I’ve been avoiding this question, deliberately not thinking about it because “I don’t know” feels like a lie now. If I leave Keric, his commune, his parents and the friends I’ve made here, I’d return to an empty apartment. I miss my students and I loved my job but…
I start twirling my hair. “Um…I’ve been thinking about staying.” The words come out before I can stop them.
Keric goes very still. “Staying?”
“Yes. Here. On the commune. I...” I falter, suddenly nervous. “I like it here. I like your family. I like—”
“Anna.” His voice is rough. Raw. “I need you to understand something.” He turns to face me fully, and those dark eyes are more intense than I’ve ever seen them.
“You know I want you as my Bride and the mother of my future children. But only if you want this,” he continues.
“Only if you choose it. I won’t trap you. I won’t—”
“Keric.”
He stops.
I scoot across the couch and close the distance between us. My hand comes up to cup his face, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the roughness of his skin.
His eyes flutter closed for just a moment, like my touch is something he’s been starving for.
“I’m still not ready to say forever yet,” I tell him. “Mainly because we’re in the midst of all this danger and it makes me worry that I’m still not ready to promise something I can’t take back.”
His jaw tightens under my palm, as if he’s preparing himself for rejection.
“But you have to understand I’m not saying no,” I continue. “I’m saying I’m getting there. I’m closer than I’ve ever been.”
“Anna—”
“This doesn’t mean we’re together forever,” I whisper. “It just means I can’t handle even one more day not kissing you. It’s killing me.”
And then I kiss him.
The first press of my lips against his is soft. Tentative. I know that he’s a virgin and in fact I suspect this is his first kiss and I have to make it good for him.
Keric groans—low, rough, the sound vibrating against my mouth—and I feel it everywhere.
My arms move around his neck and I deepen the kiss.
His tusks scrape against the corners of my mouth.
It should be strange and intimidating, but it’s the sexiest kiss of my life.
He tastes amazing. And something about the sensation, the slight roughness and the reminder of exactly what he is, makes heat flood between my thighs.
I could kiss Keric Irontree all day and night, even on Christmas.
His hands come up to frame my face, and I feel the careful control in his touch. How gently he holds me, like I’m something precious.
I imagine his body over mine. My fingers gripping those black horns while I whimper beneath him. The hot scene makes me dizzy. A growl rumbles up from his chest—deeper now, almost feral. His muscles are rigid with the effort of holding back.
I want to kiss down his jaw, his neck and move down toward unzipping his pants…but I manage to pull back, breathing hard.
His eyes are molten. “You’re going to kill me,” he rasps.
I laugh…shaky and breathless. “You’ll survive.”
“Will I?”
We stare at each other. Both breathing hard. The air between us charged with everything we haven’t done yet. Everything we want to do.
“We’re still sleeping in separate rooms, Anna.”
I blink. “Oh, I wasn’t suggesting that we—”
“I know.” His voice is strained, rough like gravel. “But I need to say it. For me.” He drags a hand over his face, and I can see what it costs him to form these words.
My eyes dip down the enormous, tented erection in his pants and I swallow hard.
“I’m not ready. I can’t be trusted to sleep next to you and not lose my mind. Not try to go further than you’re ready for.”
I see the effort it takes him to draw this line.
“So, we wait,” I say softly.
“We wait.”
I lick my lips and shift, trying to help my hot and bothered body to calm down enough so I can speak normally. “Maybe we should both go to bed early?”
He gives a jerky nod.
“Good night,” I whisper as I stand. “Can I take the kitten with me tonight?”
“Yes.”
I pick up the kitten and go to my bedroom and close the door behind me.
Dinah quickly curls at the foot of the bed, a warm gray comma against the quilt. I slide under the covers and press my fingertips to my swollen and tingling lips. I can still feel him there. The scrape of his tusks, rumble of his growl and the heat of his hands on my face.
For the first time since this started, I’m not thinking about the danger. Not thinking about mercenaries or scent bombs or evidence that goes public in four days.
I’m thinking about what comes after.
About him.
And those horns.