Page 27 of Fur-Ever Home

This morning gave me hope, though. He'd initiated showering together, and he'd participated in our round of mutual orgasms.

The talk we'd had about alphas was a little disturbing—what did humans teach their omegas about sex? I also had no room to talk, since my pack had raised me to use my omega whenever I wanted because it was my right, even if they weren't my fated mate. Especially if they weren't my fated mate. Just thinking about it grossed me out.

I wasn't that kind of alpha. I wanted a mate with his own autonomy, who wasn't afraid to talk back to me or tell me no.

Ben excelled at saying no. I chuckled, remembering how adamant he was about not being able to smell me. In response, my wolf wanted to roll over on his back and show Ben his belly.

Playing with him in the snow had been the best, though. I hoped we got to play more once we arrived in California. Not in the snow, but maybe on a sandy beach. I couldn't wait to see Ben in a pair of swim trunks, flip-flops, and nothing else.

The ocean was probably a little too cold yet, but this summer …

There I went, getting too far ahead of myself again. If Ben wanted us to part at Orange County Airport and go our separate ways, I would respect that. It would hurt like hell, but I wouldn't force myself on him. I'd already spent the better part of a day with my fated mate. That was more than some folks got in their whole lives.

I paid for the two bus tickets and returned to the bench where I'd left Ben and our bags. I couldn't tell if his phone had offended him or if he had resting angry face.

As I sat down, a gaggle of elderly folks wandered through the double doors. A bus had dropped them off before heading to the gas station across the street. Thanks to my enhanced sight, I could see the string of numbers on the back.

"That's our bus," I told Ben. "I'm going to wait outside."

"I'll come with you."

I stopped short of arguing with him about the cold. He was an adult. If he wanted to stand in the freezing cold with his human temperature and unprotected skin, that was his right. As his mate, I would let him do whatever he wanted.

He'd tied his coat around his waist when we first entered the station. He missed the armhole twice while trying to put it back on before I held the coat open for him.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Outside, a line of trees blocked the wind from the main doors. I tugged on my coat to seem more human, but it was warm enough I didn't zip it up.

After what seemed like forever, the bus driver finally returned to the parking lot and wrenched the door open. Ben and I boarded the bus, handing her our tickets.

"Shit," Ben whispered. "I should have been checking for flights." He asked the driver, "What time will we get to Vegas?"

"Around one thirty."

Ben thanked her and headed for an aisle seat in the middle of the bus.

"May I sit here?" I pointed at the window seat beside him.

He blinked up at me. "I was saving it for you."

"Thank you." I chuckled as I wiggled past him and sank down into the unexpectedly comfortable seat. "You know, if you wanted me to know this was my seat, it would have been a good idea to tell me so."

He nodded. "I'm sorry. I got distracted by a website and now I'm even further behind." He pulled up another website on his phone and sighed. "The flights are all full. We wouldn't be able to fly from Las Vegas to Orange County until tomorrow."

"We?"

He frowned. "Did you change your mind? I can look at flights to Phoenix, if you'd rather?—"

"No! Please. I have to see you reach your home. It's imperative."

He grinned. "Only you would say things like that."

He hopped from his seat and had a quick conversation with the bus driver before returning to talk to me.

"I asked about taking the train from Vegas to LA, but our driver recommended the bus, instead. It'll take longer, but it's better for our budget."

I hated that he had to worry about money. He'd stopped talking about going to the office when we reached his home, but I could tell the thought of missing work weighed heavily on him.

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