Chapter 27 Alec
Alec
In life, I have to be organized, controlled, ready for every move. But with Clementine, I want to axe down every wall I’ve built.
Kissing her is like catching a perfect weather window after weeks of storms. It’s the dizzy hit when my boot lands on solid ground after a sketchy climb, knowing I’m lucky to be alive.
She lets out a moan that sounds like a melody, and I growl into her mouth. I’ve turned ravenous. Feral.
I didn’t think you could feel seen while someone’s kissing you, but Clementine does it. Like the weeks we spent training together were for this exact moment. She adjusts to me, reads me, yields to my tongue, and then chases me. She nips at my lip unexpectedly, and I pull away, looking down at her.
My sly fox.
My control-freak brain, the one with laminated lists and backup laminated lists, surrenders under the weight of her calm. She’s cataloging the small yeses, matching me, holding me.
Leave no person behind. It’s a loyalty we vow to each other on the ice, on the mountains, and she did it instinctively. She talked me off that cliff like I’ve talked so many others down.
Equal. The word rings through my brain. She’s spent weeks trying to prove herself worthy of being my partner, but I should have been on my knees for her.
She’s chest-to-chest with me in the steam, breath warm on my lips, body telling me I’m still worth her time.
Her mouth opens under mine—citrus and salt, a faint bite of cinnamon—and I want to drink in every inch of her until I forget my own name.
My hands thread into her hair, strands clinging to my fingers.
Her thighs tighten around my hips, the water sloshing with every press of her body against mine.
She gasps when I grip her ass and yank her on top of me until her underwear drags against the hard line of my cock.
I wish the fucking water wasn’t here. I want to feel all of this.
But as she presses down, moving slowly at first, testing and teasing, I’m glad for the small barrier. My pulse pounds in my ears.
The spring is shallow enough that her chest presses to mine when she rocks forward, her nipples pebbling through the cling of her sports bra. My mouth finds her jaw, the hollow beneath her ear.
“Clementine…” It comes out rough, like I’ve been holding my breath for hours.
Her fingers hook into my hair, tugging until I have to look at her. Her eyes are molten blue flames. The sky behind us has split open, sunset spilling across the ridges. Oranges in every hue, like her hair. My new favorite color.
I let myself imagine a life where I wasn’t running, wasn’t always searching for something to chase. A life where I spent my time discovering a new sense of purpose.
“Don’t stop,” she says, needy and powerful.
I don’t. I kiss her harder, teeth grazing her lips. She moans loud, head tipping back into the steam. She’s a water nymph come alive to lure me into her depths. And I’d dive headfirst after her every time.
“I hate that I denied myself to you for so long.” She rolls her hips again, a dance she’s choreographed just for me.
I wrap my hand around her nape, nipping at her ear.
My fingers grip tighter, pulling her closer to me, inhaling her.
She hums, nails dragging down my chest. “God, Clem, you smell fucking divine.”
I grip her thigh, then her waist, my hand spanning from her navel to her spine. I leave kisses using her freckles as stepping stones, trailing down her neck and over her collarbone, sucking hard enough to mark her.
“Fuck, baby.” She grinds down harder now, sunset casting her in golden light.
Her skin is flushed, damp, perfect. And the knot that had been tightening in my chest since the panic earlier is gone.
The tension in my shoulders has eased, my breathing’s steady.
The water, her body, the way she’s here with me and not trying to fix me or make me talk…
it’s like the whole world narrowed into something I can actually hold.
I grit my teeth to control myself and tip my head backward onto the moss.
I let myself enjoy her. This moment. Our sounds intertwine with nature herself.
Until a large, hot, wet tongue drags across my ear. Not Clem’s tongue—
My eyes bolt open. “What the fuck?”
Clem freezes, staring at me, dazed, lips swollen. If she’s there—
The lick comes again, slower, wetter.
I twist my head and come face-to-face with mismatched irises, one gold, one ice-blue, both staring at me from the edge of the pool.
“A wolf!” I jerk upward, picking up Clem and using my back to shield her from the creature. I scan the mossy ground. Where the hell is my knife?
Clem vibrates in my arms, crying? No, wait—she’s laughing.
I spin around, keeping her wrapped around me as I look at the shore. The beast is a…puppy.
“That’s not a wolf,” I say, unleashing my grip on Clem. She climbs down and moves toward the animal.
“I think that’s a Malamute puppy.”
“It looks like a cotton ball with legs.” She sloshes toward the rocks. “Be careful. It could have rabies.”
She, of course, ignores me, climbing out of the water and scooping him up like he belongs to her. The puppy sprawls across her chest, back legs dangling, and immediately licks every inch of her face with joyful ferocity.
“Clem, he’s probably feral.” I step forward, joining her on the shore.
“He’s clearly a hero,” she says, hugging him to her chest. Water runs down her stomach, over her hips, disappearing into the cling of her underwear. “Saved us from whatever that was.”
“From you making bad decisions.”
Her grin turns sly. “Pretty sure you were the one making bad decisions.” The feral beast keeps licking my girl. “Stop—no—stop that, oh my god—” Unbridled laughter spills through the trees. “It’s licking my nostrils—ew! My ears—stop it! Not the neck!”
The neck I was kissing only moments ago.
“Hold on, let me get a look at you.” She grips the dog and holds him out. “You’re just a puppy, aren’t you? And a boy. I think he’s a runt,” she says, clutching him like a newborn. “He’s so, so small. Maybe one of Lenni’s got out. Can we keep him?”
“No. He’s wild.”
She pouts, cradling the fluff demon. “Does he look wild to you? Does this cute little face look like it could hurt you?”
The dog sneezes on her chin and licks her again, fully up the side of her jaw into her ear.
“Yes,” I say. “He could be a wolf puppy.”
“We’re keeping him,” she declares.
“We are not keeping him.”
“But I already love him.”
I glance around, hoping—ridiculously—for the mother or any trace of his litter. But there are only trees and the dark starting to settle in for the night.
I sigh loudly, like it’ll make a difference.
“We need to check if anyone’s missing a dog,” she says.
She walks over to our clothes and with one hand retrieves her phone, selects a number, and presses it to her ear.
“Hey, Lenni. Are you missing a puppy from Missy’s litter?
” Grumbles crackle through the phone while the dog stares at me.
He’s fluffy, mostly white, but he has brown around his eyes like he’s wearing a mask.
His giant paws are brown as well, as if he’s wearing boots. “The runt. I think I found him.”
A pause. “Happy to!” Another pause. “Okay. Thanks, Lenni.” She clicks off. “He’s ours.”
“No.”
“Lenni was gonna put him up for adoption anyway since he’s the runt.”
“No,” I scold.
“Come on, Alec. I’m taking him to the car,” she says over her shoulder, starting up the hill in her sports bra and panties. “Can you get our clothes?”
“You’re not going to get dressed?”
“The car is literally five minutes away, and I don’t want him running off. He seems cold, and you don’t look like you’re going to help. Come on, we gotta get supplies.”
I’m going to regret this. “Hold on.” I throw on my clothes over my wet skin. “Get dressed.”
“Are you going to be nice to Mozart?”
“We aren’t naming him.”
She hands him over to me, and the filthy mutt grumbles at me, narrowing his eyes before whipping his head around to find Clem.
“She’s mine,” I growl at him.
Clem gets dressed quickly and tries to take the dog. “The hill is steep. If you insist on bringing him, I’ll carry him,” I say, annoyed.
“You are gonna be such a good daddy.”
That fucking word again. “Clem.”
She gives me a kiss on my cheek. “Oh, by the way, Gran is allergic to dogs…so is it okay if Mozart stays at your place?”
“We are not keeping the dog.”
She hums like she knows she’s going to get her way. “Hopefully Dog Days is still open, or else we’ll have to drive to Anchorage to get our new boy supplies.”
We’re absolutely keeping the dog.