Page 76 of Black Moon

“You know what else is great?” I asked, leaning my forehead against his and giving him a cocky little smile.

He raised an eyebrow. “Dare I ask?”

I pointed at the floor of the show stall. “Those little flowers. Best invention ever.”

“The non-slip things? Why-oh!” He was confused, right up till the moment when I lifted him up again, encouraging him to wrap his legs around my waist, and walking us into the shower. “Holy hell. You’re stronger than you look. Not that you look—I mean—”

I leaned in to kiss him and stop the nervous flow of words. He was hardly the first person to think that. Unlike so many people, though, he’d never treated me like half an alpha because of his assumptions about my physical prowess—or lack thereof.

“So,” he purred when I broke away again. “Did you have plans for this position, or were you just showing off? Because I love a good show off, but”—he glanced down between us, at where our cocks bobbed against each other—“I’ve always preferred a guy who follows through.”

I let him lean against the wall of the shower, dipping one hand between his cheeks to make sure he was wet enough, and then hoisting him up higher. Holding him up with one arm braced under the small of his back, I used the other hand to guide my cock to his ass.

It slid in easily, and the moan he gave as I pushed inside him was perfection. He clenched around me, flexing his hips and squeezing my whole body with his legs, his head thrown back against the shower wall, eyes squeezed shut.

So I held him there, sliding into his scorching wet heat as he writhed against the shower wall, whimpering and bucking against me.

“Gonna stroke your cock,” I said, as much in warning as dirty talk, since I didn’t want him to jerk away in surprise and land us on the shower floor in a heap. So I reached between us and wrapped my hand around him. He squeezed his legs around me even tighter, his moan almost a sob. It wasn’t three strokes before he was coming all over his own belly, convulsing around me and whimpering my name.

I liked to show off as much as Colt liked me doing it, but once he was done and there was no reason to drag it out, I grabbed his ass in both hands, shoving into him hard and fast. It drew a moan and another spurt from his cock. When he clamped down around me, that was enough. I shoved in deep, wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me as the electric throb of release rolled through me, one hot pulse after another into that hot, perfect ass.

Mine, the alpha wolf in my brain growled, focusing in on the smooth bare shoulder in front of me.My omega. I closed my eyes and turned away, to press my face into Colt’s hair.

Maybe someday. But not until Colt and I had discussed it and agreed on everything beforehand. I wouldn’t ever be like Maxim Reid. Colt would be mine if and when he asked to be mine. And when he did, well, I was already his. My alpha instincts had never reacted to an omega like this before. Never this desperate longing.

I knew damn well what it meant, but I wouldn’t burden Colt with it.

If he decided to stay. Then I would tell him that I thought he was it for me. My forever. I’d ask him to be my mate.

Slowly, carefully, I pulled out of him, and let his feet down to balance on the tiled shower floor. “What’d I say? Little plastic flowers. Best invention ever.”

“I might just come around to your side on this. They’re pretty awesome.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek in his hand, wet skin dragging together. “A guy could get used to them.”

“I install them myself,” I promised. “Service with a smile and all that.”

He laughed, and leaned in to kiss me again.

40

Colt

There might be something to small-town living. I mean, sure, I’d watched the Hallmark Christmas specials, where the plucky heroine from the big city came home for the holidays to find all the warmth and charm she’d been missing.

It’d always made me roll my eyes, because no one in real life was like that. There was no burly man at the hardware store with a heart of gold. Everyone, everywhere, was trying to get by on their own.

I could appreciate that.

I just wasn’t sure what to do with all this—Grovetown and the pack and Linden, specifically. People like him weren’t supposed to exist.

But there he was, and he was wonderful. In the back of my head, even though I knew I had a life in Washington to get back to, a job that required I pay attention to what was going on with the Grove pack, and a million other reasons to keep my distance, my omega whined.

The wolf inside me wanted to curl up with Linden and nest, throw down roots and make this place my own.

It was pure indulgence that made me head straight for Linden’s closet after our shower. Sure, I had plenty of clothes of my own, and they’d even fit better, but his closet smelled like him—detergent and lavender and a clean, lemony smell.

His shirts were hanging up, but there were shelves under those and cloth-lined baskets where Linden had a collection of carefully folded sweaters, stored so they didn’t wear or stretch.

In nothing but my boxers, I ran my hands over the soft fabric. Linden came up behind me, his palms spreading warmth across my hips. When he pulled me back against his chest, I turned to kiss the edge of his jaw.

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