Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
She didn’t know what to do in the aftermath of whatever that was. It felt like she should apologize, for pushing him so far, and feeling things she was pretty sure she shouldn’t have felt. Only somehow, he got there first.
“Oh my god, Cassie, I am so sorry. I cannot believe I just did all that in front of you,” he fumbled out. Then he shoved his chair back so hard it shrieked on the linoleum. And before she could stop him, he staggered almost drunkenly out of the kitchen.
He’s gonna wolf out when he crosses that threshold , she thought, panicked.
But he didn’t. He just disappeared into the bathroom by the stairs. She heard the lock on the door snap shut. Followed by silence.
And more silence.
And so much more silence after this, she started to think he might have done something worse than wolf out. He could have died of shame , she thought. After all, that was what he’d said, wasn’t it? That his lust was shameful? Then he’d released a lot of lust, courtesy of her potty mouth, and so now here they were.
With him probably trying to escape out the bathroom window.
And her unable to decide how to fix the situation. Or, if she was being honest, to get up from the chair to even attempt fixing it. Because seriously, it was at least half an hour later, and she still felt dazed. She still felt hot, and sort of wobbly. Like everything she’d seen and heard had affected her, to a far greater degree than she’d let herself believe.
You were supposed to be helping, not getting hot for him , she chided herself. Though really, when you broke it down, was getting hot for him what had happened? Anyone would probably have gotten into this state under those circumstances.
And especially if they’d had the sex life she’d endured.
It had been years since she’d done anything with anyone.
Plus none of the people she’d been with had ever done what Seth had a moment ago.
They had never moved like that, with such complete abandon. Never said those words as heatedly as he had. And they’d definitely never made those sounds.
Usually she got little more than a faint grunt. Or even no grunt at all.
So even though she couldn’t quite excuse herself, she sort of felt that this level of heat was to be expected. And if it continued when she finally stood, and went to the bathroom door, and knocked and asked him if he was okay… well, that was understandable too.
Because, sure, it was awkward to do it. It should have brought an end to any sexy feelings. But you really had to take into account the ratio of hot events to embarrassing ones. So far hotness was 99 percent of the last hour. Embarrassing events were thirty seconds.
Less than thirty seconds, really, because he answered right away.
“Yeah, totally good, no problems here,” he said, in a voice that sounded a little ragged and strained, but otherwise okay. So it made sense that the heat did not appear to be going away. Or even increased a little, when he added, “Do you by any chance have a pair of pants that might fit me? I seem to have made an absolutely ridiculous amount of mess here.”
Though little was probably an understatement.
In truth, it went through her like lightning. She almost had to bite back a moan.
But it was fine, it was fine. She had just made the mistake of picturing what he was suggesting, that was all. She’d thought about his come, all thick and slippery and copious, completely coating the insides of his thighs. Then getting all over his hands as he tried to tug down his jeans, and—
“I think I might have a pair of sweatpants, hold on,” she burst out, and dashed to grab them before her own thoughts could go any further. Before she could cross any more of those lines than she already had.
Only when she came back downstairs, he was out of the bathroom.
Just there, leaned against the frame, with nothing but a towel on.
And that was kind of a lot on top of everything else.
She had to look away without seeming like she was looking away—like at the quarry, like in the closet, like all the times when things had seemed too naked and too weird and on the verge of something unhinged. Only now, they really were in the aftermath of a sexual event. Now they really had crossed some kind of line. And on top of this, she was currently trying to hand him some clothes. So it wasn’t exactly easy to seem casual.
She couldn’t even manage to avoid seeing his body.
She caught at least three glimpses of a nipple, amid the fumbling. Then somehow, she ended up dropping the shirt she had grabbed for him. And when she stooped to snag it, oh the things she accidentally saw, courtesy of the split in the too-small towel.
Shadowy things. Heavy-looking things. Things that immediately made her face heat up.
Worse: she started sweating. Like her whole body had caught a fever.
And the only thing that saved her was him getting completely the wrong idea. “Oh jeez, you’re completely mortified. I’ve mortified you. By being a giant pervert who you’re never gonna want to speak to again in case I accidentally do whatever that was when you do,” he rushed out, in a voice so broken and full of remorse she had to do something about it.
She’d wanted him to do it.
And okay, not for weird, sexy reasons. But still.
“You’re not a pervert, Seth. Everything you did was fine.”
“You can’t really think that. It was awful. It’s still awful. I just flashed you.”
“No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have looked in that direction.”
“Don’t blame yourself for my dick being right there.”
He pointed in the direction of where right there was.
But of course she didn’t look. No matter how tempted she was.
“It’s right there because all my grandmother’s towels are the size of postage stamps. I’m surprised you even managed to close it around you at all, never mind doing it in a way that doesn’t leave a gaping triangle,” she said instead. And was pleased with the amount of exasperation she got into her voice. Then she turned around, and he rustled the clothes on, and everything was fine.
Very oddly silent, but fine.
She even asked if she could turn back around.
And got this from him, when she did:
“It’s gonna sound weird if I say no, right?”
“Maybe it won’t if you explain why I shouldn’t.”
“Okay,” he tried. “So, uh. These sweatpants are a little bit tight on me.”
“They can’t be that tight. My butt could eat your butt for breakfast.”
She heard him make an annoyed sound. “Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing. Or use the words ‘eat’ and ‘your butt’ in the same sentence. Or tell me that I must be wrong, because, hoo boy, I am not, and not because of any ass-based reasons.”
Don’t ask him what he means by that middle bit , she told herself.
And thankfully succeeded.
“Then what are the reasons based on?”
“Let’s just say these sweatpants are riding super high.”
“Well, I am quite a bit shorter than you are, Seth.”
“It’s not really my height that’s the problem.”
“So what—” she started to say. But couldn’t finish, because it had clicked in her head. And now her face was even hotter than before. She wasn’t sure how she managed to get words out. Or make them jokey. But she did. “So basically you’ve got a bulge the size of a bus.”
“Honestly, ‘bus’ is probably understating it.”
“Jesus Christ , dude.”
“I know, I know, somehow I’m being disgusting again.”
“No you’re not. That wasn’t why I exclaimed.”
“Then why did you?”
Fuck , she thought. Now I’ve got to explain .
Even though she was barely sure how to explain it to herself. Everything just felt so muddled and confused and heated—in a way that should have been resolving itself now that nothing sexual was happening. Now that this was just Seth, partly nude.
But somehow resolution was not happening.
If anything, she felt significantly hotter.
And her voice shook when she finally managed to force some words out.
“Because it’s astonishing. Not because it’s bad. Nothing you’ve done is bad, okay? I encouraged you to keep talking. I knew what was happening, or what could happen—because seriously, how could it not? It’s been years. The only surprise is you didn’t do what you did the second we started that conversation,” she said, and heard him let out a relieved-sounding sigh.
“Yeah, I had a few close calls somewhere in the middle.”
“And that’s all right with me. All right to do, all right to tell me. In fact, if anything it’s me that should have behaved better. I shouldn’t have pushed or been so—” she went to say. But thankfully he cut her off, before she could finish.
“Cass, I don’t care what you were like. You could have done anything, absolutely anything. I wouldn’t have been bothered. All that matters to me is that you’re okay with everything that happened.”
So that is that , she thought. “I am,” she said, and to prove it, she turned and faced him.
Eyes firmly above his waist, of course.
But she did it. And just in time to see his face flood with warmth and gratitude. “I can’t tell you what that means to me,” he said. “What everything you did means to me, honestly. Because I know it might be weird to thank you for what just happened, but god, I’ve wanted to say it for the last half hour. It was actually about five minutes of cleanup, then twenty-five trying to think of a way to apologize and be overwhelmingly grateful, all at the same time.”
“You have nothing to be grateful for. I barely did anything.”
“Cass, you created magic that made this possible. And then you didn’t even think about your own feelings toward me. All you thought about was helping me, even if that meant being embarrassed and uncomfortable. And that is just so… so… oh god, Cass, I would hug you if you were into getting hugs from me,” he said, in so heartfelt a way she knew she couldn’t lie.
There was no way to tell him, no, I’m not. Please never put your arms around me.
Even though the very idea of being hugged by him made her body prickle and heat, and her brain immediately go over all the things that might press against her. His bare chest. His nude biceps. That goddamn bus between his legs. Hell, maybe it would be all three at the same time.
But she had to force out the truth anyway.
“I am into it, Seth. We’re friends now. And friends do things like that.”
“So even after that disaster, I’ve been upgraded from standard enemy?”
“You’ve probably been upgraded because of it, if I’m being honest.”
He shook his head. “That is ridiculous. There’s no way.”
“I don’t see why not. It told me you were telling the truth, and it showed a lot of trust in me, and then it led to us having this heartfelt conversation. Apparently, in part, about your enormous package,” she said—mostly to see if she could break the tension that seemed to be building inside her.
Though she was surprised when it worked.
He laughed. She laughed. Everything was cool.
And in a second , she thought, he will be gone . He was going to leave as usual, armed with Werewolf Killer, and other protection potions, and lots of promises on his lips to text her the second he got back to his home-slash-shack. And she would finally be able to relax. She was already relaxing, in fact.
Then he leaned forward, and did what he told her he would do.
What he could do, now that the combination of the protection potions and the scent blocker and the Feel Better and his first orgasm in eight years was providing a moment of calm.
He put his arms around her. Awkwardly, but it didn’t seem to matter.
Because the second he did it, she didn’t just get a wave of that syrupy heat.
She felt more pleasure than she’d ever known, from any touch at all.