Page 19 of A Queen and Her Knight

Cleo made a strangled noise, but shook her head when Zoe looked at her in concern. “This town,” she said, then lowered her voice. “I liked it when you displayed yourself, accidentally or not,” she pointed out, making Zoe jolt. “Doesn’t that count? And I think you demonstrated your skills just fine with that rude woman. Unless that wasn’t what you meant.”

“That impressed you?” Zoe straightened for a second, pleased with herself. She hadn’t even done much. Then she processed the rest of what Cleo had said and went hot all over, which hopefully Cleo couldn’t see. “Um… not exactly. The rules. They say I can…. If you desire me, I can use that.”

“To woo me?” Cleo repeated, softly, warmly. “For what, exactly?”

“To stay,” Zoe answered, stumbling. “To… to be my…”

“Girlfriend?” Cleo finished. “That seems fast.”

“Wooing is supposed to take time,” Zoe justified it and let the matter rest at ‘girlfriend’ for now. “Humans usually need time. But you….” Cleo had understood so quickly, and leapt forward. “Youwanted. And you smell good, to me.”

Cleo was silent a few moments, possibly confused or ashamed or embarrassed or some other mostly human emotion. Zoe tried not to fidget or growl. Cleo was still holding her hand. That meant something.

“Weres don’t need time?” Cleo questioned at last, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Because of how we smell?”

Zoe nodded eagerly, grateful she wasn’t going to have to talk about it. “You don’t have to decide now, or even soon. Just know that I want you.” She exhaled that part shakily, but stood in place while Cleo stared at her without blinking. “So,” Zoe made herself go on, “if you want to do this again, I am… I would be… happy.”

Cleo was silent for another moment and then released Zoe’s hand. Zoe staggered back, adrift in the middle of the street while Cleo turned and walked up the sidewalk. She headed up a stoop to a small, well-lit porch, and then pulled a set of keys from her duffel bag.

“Zoe,” she called without turning around, wavering and uncertain. “I want to invite you in for tea, but it seems dishonest after all that.”

“Tea?” Zoe echoed blankly. “Dishonest?”

As if that proved something, Cleo put a hand to the door and then twisted around to study her. She put her shoulders back before she spoke. “Would you like to come in?” Her voice was soothing and stirring, carrying clearly over the distance between them. “For tea, or, for something other than tea?” She smiled, almost shyly. “I’m not ready for this date to end.”

“Yeah?” Zoe wondered breathlessly, probably to the amusement of anyone listening in. Not that she gave a shit. She tripped into motion, following the same path Cleo had taken, trailing after her with a few respectable feet between them when Cleo opened the door and stood aside to let her in.

She turned on lights Zoe didn’t really need, and closed the door, and shoved her bag on a chair in the small living area that served as her entranceway. Zoe noted a kitchen on her other side, in soft yellows and blues, and an opened door revealing a bedroom decorated in the colors of spring. Everything smelled of Cleo.

“Is it true what they say about werewolves?” Cleo asked from behind her, then moved past her little dining table into her kitchen with restless energy and a hammering heart. “You claim each other?”

On the verge of complaining about the ‘werewolves can go all night’ legends, true though they might be, Zoe shut her mouth. After a moment, she nodded.

Cleo’s kitchen cabinets had no doors. She pulled out two pale blue mugs and put them on the table. “Humans too?” She wentto a clay jar labeled ‘Tea’ but stopped with her hands wrapped around it.

“If they agree.” Zoe watched her carefully, the splay of her fingers, the quickening pace of her breathing. “We want others to know.”

“So, if someone claimed you as their girlfriend, everyone in town would know about it?” Cleo was very still.

“No one’s ever claimed me,” Zoe confessed, shivering at the idea. “But, yeah. If I—” She swallowed dryly and tried again. “If I claimed someone, I’d be faithful. We’re possessive, but we’re not animals. It goes both ways.”

Cleo gave a small shudder. “I’m trying very hard to be sensible, but you’re making it difficult.” She held out her hand without turning around. She was quiet. “Tell me again how I smell to you. Please.”

Zoe had once seen Tim offer his hand to Nathaniel and Nathaniel take it with a careful, reverent sort of joy Zoe had been uncomfortable to witness at the time. But she thought of it now as she came forward to curl her hands around her mate’s fragile wrist. She raised it nearly to her mouth, and inhaled over the thin skin, although she already knew the scent better than any other.

“Bright. Warm,” she answered, and wanted, needed, to kiss that skin the way Nathaniel had done. “Spring and flowers. Nectar,” she added, and made a rough noise when her lips brushed Cleo’s skin.

Cleo turned. She pulled her hand from Zoe’s in the same moment, but only to slide it to Zoe’s shoulder. She tilted her face up before curling her fingers greedily into Zoe’s collar. “I need you to kiss me, Zoe,” she whispered, soft and brave.

Zoe kissed her, trying to be gentle and failing when Cleo parted her lips and pushed forward for it. Cleo was trembling, and Zoe pulled back to press lighter, careful, kisses at the edge of her mouth. Her mate was sweet as well as fierce, one hand wrapped tight in Zoe’s shirt, her body hot and shivering. Kisses at the corner of her lips became kisses at her jaw, kisses down her throat, where the scent made Zoe growl.

Cleo clutched at her, her pulse delicious beneath Zoe’s mouth. Warm skin, with the hint of salt and lavender from the spa, mate’s skin, flushed and ripe. Zoe nosed at the orange-and-pink scent and grunted in approval. She followed it down, licking at the collarbone that had tempted her all night long, and Cleo made a small, choked sound.

It brought Zoe out of her daze enough to raise her head. Cleo stared at her with wide, dark eyes, her lips wet from Zoe’s mouth. Zoe came closer, uncertain for another moment, until Cleo’s fingers curled at the nape of her neck to bring her in for another kiss. It was so hungry Zoe felt it between her legs. Her knees went weak at the hot throb there, the instant ache for her mate’s fingers, her mate’s tongue.

She slapped a hand to the counter, but the other went to Cleo’s waist, toMate, to keep her on her feet even if Zoe fell. Cleo barely paused in her exploration of Zoe’s mouth. She tightened her hold on Zoe’s neck and leaned forward to pull at Zoe’s shirt buttons. Her arousal was a wet, orange-blossom honeyed scent that had Zoe growling again, licking desperately into her mate’s mouth for more. She remembered vaguely, distantly, that first times between mates could be like this, overwhelming. She felt her uniform shirt pushed from her shoulders, the t-shirt beneath that lifted up, and then her mate’s palm over her breast, hot even through Zoe’s plain bra.

“Zoe,” Cleo begged against Zoe’s cheek, as if she wasn’t the one creating this ache with the slow friction of her hand over Zoe’s nipple. Zoe whined in answer and bared her throat. Cleo dragged her mouth over the offered skin but didn’t bite, so Zoe whined again.

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