Page 16 of Alpha's Touch
“If this is a dream,” Preston mumbled, voice raspy with sleep, “it’s a weird one.”
“Not a dream,” Zeppelin replied. “Just me, bringing you breakfast.”
“Why in my room?” Preston rubbed his face with both hands. “And time is it?”
God, he was adorable with his sleep-creased cheek and pouty bottom lip. Zeppelin wanted to bite that lip.
“Early enough for an adventure.” Zeppelin reached for one of the coffee cups. “Here, this might help.”
Preston’s nose twitched as Zeppelin held the coffee near him. Like a sleepwalker, he reached out with both hands, cradling it close to his chest like precious cargo.
After a careful sip, his features softened slightly. “Mmm, you’re forgiven for whatever crime you’ve committed against my sleep.”
“Good, because I want to take you for a ride to the farmer’s market.”
Preston’s eyes finally opened, narrowing suspiciously. “You’ve lost your mind.” He took another sip of coffee. “Normal people text before showing up at someone’s apartment at”—he glanced at the bedside clock and winced—“nine in the morning on a Saturday.”
Zeppelin laughed. “Never claimed to be normal.”
After another sip, Preston paused, nose twitching. “What’s that wonderful smell?”
“Cinnamon rolls from the local bakery.” Zeppelin reached for the paper bag, opening it to reveal glossy cinnamon rolls the size of his palm. Breaking off a piece, he held it up to his mate’s lips. “Open.”
Preston gave him a skeptical look but parted his lips anyway.
Zeppelin gently placed the piece in his mate’s mouth, fingertips brushing against soft lips.
The contact sent heat racing up his arm.
Preston’s eyes fluttered closed as he chewed, a small moan escaping.
“Oh my god,” he whispered. “That’s illegal.”
So was that moan. Preston had no idea what he was doing to Zeppelin’s body right now. Those appreciative noises were going straight to his cock.
He broke off another piece, holding it up. “Want more?”
Preston didn’t hesitate this time, opening his mouth for the offered treat. A dab of icing clung to his bottom lip, and Zeppelin had to clench his fist to keep from leaning in to lick it off.
His wolf howled in agreement.
They spent the next half-hour like that, Zeppelin feeding Preston pieces of the cinnamon roll while his mate made obscene noises that tested Zeppelin’s self-control.
By the time the cinnamon rolls were gone, Preston was alert, the sleepy haze replaced by a wariness that Zeppelin was determined to ease. “Talk to me, sunshine.”
Preston licked his lips, chasing the icing. Fuck, he really was testing Zeppelin’s control.
“I’m broke,” his mate said with a sigh. “As nice as your adventure sounds, I don’t have the funds.”
“My treat.” Zeppelin held up a hand when his mate looked like he was going to protest. “It’s my way of welcoming you to Crimson Hollow.”
Preston sat there, chewing that damn lip that Zeppelin wanted to taste so badly. “Are you sure?”
About tasting his lip? Hell fucking yes. “Yep. It’s also my bribe. I want to hit the market, but I’d rather have company.”
“So, you’re bribing me with deliciousness to hang out with you?” Preston’s features softened. “I would’ve done that for free, Zeppelin.”
He nearly asked his mate to say his name again. Preferably in bed, only Zeppelin under the covers with his mate. Both of them naked.
