Page 34 of Bearing Secrets
She blinked. “Pardon?”
“The term is shifting. We’re shifters. Short for shapeshifters.”
“I know what it’s short for,” she said tartly, then relented. “Sorry. I’m not exactly thinking straight.”
“I don’t blame you. This is a pretty big revelation. You just had your entire world changed.” He squeezed her ever so much tighter, trying to help her relax.
And maybe, just maybe, enjoying the way she feels pressed against you? Trying to cop another feel?
He’d realized earlier that when she’d tried to slip out of her shirt, it had taken her bra with it and he’d fully been cupping her exposed breast, but it hadn’t been sexual. Kirell had simply been attempting to ensure she didn’t flee. He hadn’t taken any sort of perverse pleasure from groping her that way; it just wasn’t his style.
That didn’t mean the idea of touching her in a sexual manner wasn’t beginning to appeal to him the more he talked to her, but that wasn’t something he could act on.
Or think about. You’re vulnerable; she’ll know.
He carefully flexed his legs and abs, draining blood away from a potentially embarrassing situation.
“Are you flexing?” Natalia turned around in his arms to be able to look him in the eye.
“Uh.” His efforts to keep everything down failed. Miserably.
“So, you’re still naked.”
He nodded.
“And, um,” she looked into the water between them. “Fired up.”
Kirell bit his lip uncomfortably. “Yeah. That’s your fault. For being so attractive.”
“My fault,” she said quietly.
“Listen, if I let you go, will you stay? Without running?”
Natalia thought about it, then nodded. “Sure, whatever. You’re still naked and I’m covered in wet clothing. Can we get out now at least?”
Laughing, he agreed, lifting her into his arms without thinking and carrying her to the stairs and out of the water. “More sweats are over there.” He pointed at the chests containing various outfits.
“I see now why you have them all. I take it that clothes don’t make the change with you?”
“Precisely. Sweats are easy to slip into and out of.”
“Unless they’re soaked and stuck to you,” she complained.
He reached over and helped pull the shirt over her head. This time, her bra stayed in place. Wistfully he turned around, wishing he could have glimpsed more of a peek at what she had on underneath, but he respectfully looked away instead, pulling on his own set of clothes after a quick dry off with a spare pair of pants. Then he awkwardly tucked away his erection under the waistband and waited for her to be done changing.
Just go away. There’s no need right now. She’s not here to sleep with me. I need her. The Queen needs her. Don’t fuck this up by trying to fuck her.
Kirell was growing irritated with himself over the whole situation. Always before, he’d been able to control himself, to keep reactions like this under control. Why was he struggling so much with Natalia?
“Do you have anything to drink? Preferably with alcohol,” she asked, flopping down into one of the chairs near the fire.
Kirell very carefully did not stare at the bra and underwear draped over the back of another chair. She was naked under the clothes now, completely naked. His eyes roamed over her, imagination filling in the blanks.
Enough.
“Yes,” he said abruptly. The nearby grilling area was fully stocked with multiple barbecues, countertops, a smoker, roasting pit and—most importantly—three very large and well-supplied beer fridges and a large wine cooler. “Wine or beer?
“Wine, if you have it,” she said gratefully. “Red, if there’s a choice, but right now I’ll drink anything.”
