Page 39 of Ash

"Here." Hetty brought over a glass of iced tea. "I keep iced tea in a refrigerator in the back.

James looked concerned. "She hasn't eaten anything this morning."

Ash let go of her hand and pulled a few of the plates closer. "What do you like to eat?"

Suzannah felt lightheaded, but she wasn't sure how much of it was because she was hungry and how much of it was because everything was changing so quickly.

She was on the verge of begging off the offer, but then her eyes lit on one of the plates that Hetty had set on the table. "Is that a cinnamon roll?"

Hetty smiled at her, a toothy grin of joy. "Yes. It is."

James nodded with his own sly smile. "I dare you to find a cinnamon roll that's better than that one right there. Raisin' Bread makes the best pastries anywhere."

Suzannah reached out to taste it, but her hand was shaking.

Before she could ask for help, Ash reached out a hand and pulled a piece from the outside of the roll.

As she watched with rapt attention, he lifted the morsel up to her mouth.

The scent itself was already heavenly, but the sight of the thick and creamy icing slowly dripping down the side of the torn piece of the roll, she couldn't resist a taste.

Suzannah opened her mouth and Ash put the piece of cinnamon roll between her lips.

She nipped it from his fingers and the first taste of the icing on her tongue was transcendent. It was a delicate sugary confection covering a fluffy bit of cinnamon bread.

Her eyes closed and she moaned softly. So softly that a human probably wouldn't have heard it, but as a shapeshifter, his hearing went way beyond that of a human.

What does it feel like?

He heard his bear's question and knew that he would be jealous if it was his bear in his place.

She's so warm and wonderful.

She smells... perfect.

Like honey.

Ash felt his bear lean heavily against their link, the barrier decidedly thin as they thought back and forth to each other as Suzannah leaned against his chest.

"I've never smelled honey." Suzannah's voice was slower than it had been, but there was a sweet lilt to her tone. "What does it smell like?"

Ash turned his head, leaning in so that his nose was pillowed against her hair. He could hear her breaths, feel the beating of her heart against his chest. "Flowers."

Suzannah wiggled a little against him. "I can feel your voice," she sighed softly, "rumbling through your skin and mine."

His skin tightened, his heart rate built to a fevered pitch.

There was so much he wanted to say to her. So much to admit and confess.

There was no doubt about his own feelings, but as a human, he knew that she might not understand the sudden landslide of emotions and sensations that he felt when he held her, breathed her in.

He had to choose his words carefully, because he was dangerously close to telling her that he loved her.

She was already having some trouble understanding the new world that she was living in. If he pushed her a little too much by admitting his need for her, he might frighten her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Yet, he had to say something before she could second guess things between them.

"I can smell the flowers."

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