Page 61 of The (Maybe) Murderer Who Knocked Me Up

“Is that…”

“It’s the first part of my collection.”

He sets me down on the kitchen floor and turns toward the cabinet, running his fingers along the glass. “This means you’re bonding to me.”

“It means you’re bonding to me, too.”

He stares at the goblets with this ache in his eyes. “We drank with these last night.”

“Yes. As a family.”

“But they look different today. They’re more beautiful. More… sparkly.”

He’s right. I wonder if it’s because I showed them to Aunt Emerald. Or maybe it’s because he showed up today with all his coupons.

“Then you like them?” I ask.

“I love them. I want to get them out and touch them.”

I wonder if that’s why our alpha mom insisted on swapping out the photos in our picture frames so often. She would run her fingers along the frames every time we got them down for her, like they were precious.

“You want to get them out and touch them more than you want to have sex?”

Slade smiles at me. “No, but after.”

“Okay. After.”

Without warning, he lifts me over his shoulder again, careful to keep a healthy distance from the glass case. He carries me through the living room and down the hall until he’s standing in front of my bedroom.

“Wait!” I say, just as he puts his hand on the doorknob. “There might be a toy in there that I didn’t have a chance to put away. I was in a rush this morning.”

Slade walks into my bedroom anyway. The toy in question is sitting on my nightstand. It’s bright pink with the words “The Grizzly,” printed along the handle.

He deposits me on the bed and picks it up. “The grizzly, huh?”

“They had different sizes depending on what kind of shifter.”

He climbs on the bed, resting his hands on the other side of my body. “Is this the only thing you’ve had up your ass during the last six years?”

“Are you asking if I’ve had sex with someone else?”

He nods, his body big and domineering over mine. It’s such a contrast to yesterday when he laid out on the bed of the motel and offered to let me tie him down. Technically, I know it’s none of his business who I fucked in his absence. But our bond never faded during that time. That means it is his business, in a way.

“It’s only ever been you,” I admit.

He places his hand on my chest and pushes me down on the mattress. “Because you’re mine.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He drags his hand down my chest. I’m wearing an apron, so that shouldn’t be sexy, but he just flips the apron up, and unbuttons my jeans with a single-mindedness that makes me forget everything but him. He pulls down my jeans and underwear all at once.

“I’ve fantasized about this so many times,” he says quietly, lowering his head to my pubic hair and inhaling through hisnose. “God, you smell so good. Even better than I imagined. I would lie on my mattress at night and try to guess what your scent would be like. Thinking of you was what got me through.”

His raw honesty is such a contrast to the obvious lies last night. Slade is completely with me right now. No safety net, no barriers. It makes me realize how careful he was before. Last night there were no possessive questions. He didn’t try to carry me over his shoulder.

Slade encircles his fingers around my shaft. The warmth of his hand shouldn’t feel that different from my own, but it’s electric.

“Slade,” I whimper.

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