16. Chapter 16 #2
He rolls us so I’m on my back, his lips claiming mine. The kiss feels off, and I realize it’s because neither of us can stop smiling. This ridiculous man makes my heart sing like a bloody bird.
“Are we done here?” he asks, voice low. “I want to take you into the bathroom, lick every piece of cake off your face, and get you home so I can fuck you in the shower.”
I can’t stop my gasp. “That… that sounds like a plan.”
Quickly, we clean up our spilled food. Then Gunnar drags me into the bathroom and does exactly what he promised.
After filling out the form for a tiered white chocolate lemon cake, I drive us toward home. My face still feels sticky, but nothing a shower with Gunnar won’t fix. Beside me, he watches the scenery soar by. “Could we pull over?” he asks.
“Are you all right?” I hope he doesn’t have a stomachache.
“Aye. This open countryside is tempting me to shift and run.”
I frown. “Are you sure that’s okay?” For some unmated wolves, shifting can push them toward their berserk rage.
“I’m calmer than I’ve been in years when we’re together,” he assures me. “I’ll be fine.” His big hand settles on my thigh. “If you’re not comfortable, I understand if you’d rather wait in the car.”
Oddly, my fear of wolves hadn’t been the first thing on my mind.
I’d been more concerned about Gunnar. I’ve been around many shifted wolves over the years, and they were almost always berserk.
Part of my job description, unfortunately.
I can compartmentalize to do my job, but it’s after the adrenaline’s faded and I’m alone at night in the dark that the nightmares come for me.
I’m not sure how being around Gunnar’s wolf will affect me, but I trust him, and I want him to feel comfortable enough to shift around me.
So I pull us over along the road and unlock the car.
The serene peace and quiet of the woods washes over me as I follow Gunnar deeper into the trees, away from the road.
Once I’m sure we’re far enough, I say, “This looks like a good spot.”
Gunnar removes his coat, revealing the gray wolf fur that descends down his back.
He glances at me, concern in his eyes, and I force myself to smile.
“Go on.” My heart jumps around in my chest, and I have to fight the urge to put my shields back up.
I hate that he can sense my nerves, but if we’re going to be together, then I want to accept all of him the way he accepted me.
But wait. We’re not going to be together. As soon as we’re married and I have Nan’s lunar flower, that’s it. Things will be over between us. Unless… unless perhaps Gunnar decides he wants to continue our relationship? As if he would. He’s still loyal to Leif.
Do I want more from him? From us?
All my questions pop right out of my head when the gray fur cloak comes to life, covering Gunnar’s whole body and shaping him into an enormous gray wolf. Goddess. His head must come up to my chest. My bowels threaten to loosen, just a little.
With a groan, Gunnar unfurls his body into a big, long stretch.
His back arches, tail up in the air, and he extends his front legs as far as they can go.
Then he reverses his position and stretches each back leg.
Bizarrely, I find myself smiling at the bliss on his wolfy face when he yawns, big and wide.
Until I see his huge fangs. I swallow the sour taste of fear in my throat.
Don't be scared. This is Gunnar. He looks different, but he’s calm and in control.
I can’t look away from his teeth. Rows of them, big and blunt, perfect for crunching bones. My heart starts to race. Shit. Maybe I should have stayed in the car.
Gunnar rolls onto his back in the snowy leaves and flops around like a fish, kicking his paws out. My spine stiffens when he growls until I realize how much like laughter it sounds. He even sneezes a few times, his whole snout scrunching up, and I laugh.
He looks utterly ridiculous and, dare I say… kind of cute.
Gunnar rolls onto his stomach and looks at me, ears twitching. My stomach drops down to my toes. Right. He’s cute, but he’s still a killing machine. If he wants to be, I try to remind myself.
I can’t help the way my heart races. My legs twitch, wanting to run. I won’t be fast enough. He’ll catch me easily. Gunnar lowers his head to his paws with a whine, still watching me.
“I’m okay,” I lie.
On his belly, he shuffles toward me. It looks absurd and might even be funny if I weren’t ready to take off running.
He comes to a stop at my feet, the tip of his big black nose inches from my boots.
Goddess, he’s huge this close. He’s at least the length of my whole body, if not a foot or two more.
The thick gray fur looks soft to the touch, if a bit damp.
Nope. I will not pet him. He’s a predator deserving of respect and a healthy dose of fear. I will not pet him. But… he’s just so fluffy.
“You’re dangerous,” I remind myself. “Fluffy but dangerous.”
With a whine, Gunnar rolls onto his back and shows off his belly… and his junk and balls, but we’re just going to ignore that.
“Dangerous,” I say, curling my fingers so I don’t pet the danger floof.
Oh, damn it. I really want to pet him. He reminds me of a big puppy, not the vicious beast that savaged me. Slowly, I kneel. Frost and leaves crunch under my knees, chilling my skin. I hold my breath and extend my hand, ready to yank it back at the slightest movement.
I flinch when my fingers brush his wet, cold fur.
Gunnar stays perfectly still. He’s upside down, so his lips have drooped away from his teeth.
Fuck, each fang must be the length of my pinky finger.
Movement makes me yelp, falling back on my ass in the cold, wet leaves. It’s his tail, swinging side to side.
“You liked that?” I ask, huffing a shaky laugh. His tail wags faster. Scooting closer, I give his chest and stomach some scratches. “Ugh. Your fur is wet and cold, and you smell like a wet dog.”
Gunnar sneezes, making me jump out of my skin.
A laugh tumbles free, and I let myself rub his stomach, touch his huge paws, and pat his chest. With a grunt, he rolls onto his stomach and settles his huge head in my lap.
I freeze, not moving until I’m sure he’s comfortable.
His weight doesn’t make me feel trapped at all.
Gently, I stroke from his head to the tip of each pointed ear. They twitch, and I laugh. I shouldn’t find this adorable. When I run my fingers through the fur between his ears, Gunnar sighs softly. I even run my finger down the length of his snout to the tip of his nose, which I boop, of course.
Gunnar grumbles but tolerates it.
“You really are just a big sweetheart, aren’t you?”
I start when he lifts his head, bringing his nose only inches from mine. The breath sticks in my throat as I hold his deep brown gaze unblinkingly. He could fit my whole head in his massive jaws if he wished. Said jaws part, and I whimper, my entire body tensing.
Then a big wet tongue lashes my face. “Gross!” I rub my mouth. “Right on the mouth, are you bloody serious?”
Gunnar bares his teeth in a smile so familiar it makes my chest ache. He would never hurt me. No matter what form he’s in, he’s still my big, sweet, gentle Gunnar.
Laughter spills from my lips. He pushes his big head between my hands and leans in so that my forehead is resting right between his eyes, my nose brushing his snout.
He licks my neck but can’t reach my face.
I close my eyes and focus on the hot huff of his breath against my vulnerable throat, the coarse fur between my fingers.
“Thank you,” I whisper, not entirely sure what I’m thanking him for specifically.
A happy rumble answers me, and for a time, my wolf and I sit there in the woods together, listening to the wind in the trees.
I don’t want this to end.
The realization makes my heart skip.
I don’t want to lose him when all of this is over.
I want this thing between us to be real.
And that? That scares me more than any wolf ever has.