Page 22 of Can't Help Growling in Love
“I’m guessing that plan didn’t turn out like you expected?” I ask softly.
“Nope. I visited my parents for the summer after my second year—they were living at a base in Germany at the time, near Stuttgart. My father told me he’d found a great opportunity for me, and the next day, one of the commanders at the base, a vampire, sat me down and told me about an elite squad of supernatural soldiers. They were like Navy SEALs but sent on missions where their enhanced abilities made them the better choice. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and the subtext of the offer was that my military career would be shot if I refused to join.”
I frown. “So, not really an offer, more of a forced conscription?”
Asher shrugs. “This was several years before the Great Revelation. Most governments knew about supernaturals already, but no one talked about it out loud, right? There were task forces like that all over the world, some more official than others, and the US program had been going on for decades.”
Since supernaturals came out to the world, humans realized they’d been working alongside werewolves, orcs, merpeople, and trolls all along, but I didn’t know that there were programs like that before, too.
“So you joined?”
“I did. Didn’t really have a choice.” He looks down at me, a wry smile curving up the corners of his lips. “It wasn’t bad, youknow. Well, it wasn’teasy, being a soldier is never that, but I had great teammates. And our missions were always challenging. I could shift during training, and the others understood what it was like, being a supernatural in hiding.”
“But you were injured?” I don’t move my hand toward his knee, not wanting to cross any lines. “That’s why you left?”
“I can’t tell you the details, but the last mission I participated in went sideways.” He’s serious now, no doubt remembering the events. “I was lucky to have made it out alive. Two of my friends weren’t.”
“I’m so sorry.” My heart squeezes for those soldiers, and for Asher, who lost his friends.
“Thank you.”
He leans his cheek on the top of my head again, as if seeking comfort, so I lean in for a hug, my arm wrapped firmly around his broad chest.
“I didn’t mean to dump all that on you,” he says, huffing. “But that’s my life in a nutshell until about four years ago. I was twenty-four, honorably discharged because my knee was never going to hold up to the kind of training required for that team, and had the choice of accepting a desk job in the Army or getting out.”
“And you chose to get out,” I state the obvious.
“Yep, and my father hasn’t talked to me since.” He shakes his head, forestalling my horrified exclamation. “I’ve talked it all out with my therapist. I know I’m not at fault, June. He’s got his own issues, not that he’d ever admit it. And Mom’s the same, she just keeps repeating his ideas, so I just…got out. Of my family, too, I mean. I still talk to my squad buddies, though. Not often, but we meet up from time to time when they’re stateside.”
A timer beeps, and Asher swears softly. “Give me a few, I need to wrap this up. Marcos is coming in thirty minutes to take over.”
He returns to the booth, and I wait on the couch, not wanting to move yet. Asher’s story gives me insight into him that I didn’t have before. I didn’t know he was a veteran, and certainly not a former elite soldier, but his experience explains his discomfort in loud, crowded places.
I’ve never worked extensively with veterans, but I’ve seen my share of PTSD victims, and it seems like Asher is handling his mental health issues really well. I decide there and then to give him all the time he needs, because the last thing I want is to rush him.
But when Asher emerges from the booth a few minutes later, he dives straight for me. His lips close over mine, and he nudges me backward until I’m almost lying on the couch. I wrap my arms around his neck and tug him down on top of me. My body lights up at the weight of him. He’s so much bigger and so solid and warm. He leans over me on one arm and palms my ass with his free hand, his touch demanding. I give myself over to him completely, letting him explore me, lick me, like he needs to. It feels a lot like being worshipped, especially because I sense his need for me rising along with mine. He rocks his hips, and I gasp at the feel of his thick erection. I knew he’d be big, but if this is the size of his dick while he’s in human form, his half-shifted form might present a problem.
My mind throws up this objection, but my body doesn’t care—I’m wet, panting underneath him, seconds away from begging him to sink inside me.
“June.” He says my name reverently, almost like a plea. “Gods, you feel so…”
His words trail off on a groan. I sink my teeth in his lower lip, then suck on it to soothe it. He smells so damn good, I want to roll around in his scent, steal his clothes and wear them to bed. If that makes me weird, I don’t care, because Asher is huffing at me, too, his quiet groans testifying to how turned on he is.
I lift my leg to wrap my thighs around Asher’s waist, and my foot catches the edge of the coffee table. A clattering sound brings us both back to our senses, and I glance past his shoulder to find the headphones I was using earlier lying on the floor, the cable in a tangle.
“Shit, sorry.” I unclench my hands from the back of Asher’s neck but can’t make myself push him off. “Um. This was hot.”
He gives me a lazy smile, then kisses me again, more slowly this time, as if he’s savoring me. “We’d better stop. And air out the room. Marcos is coming soon, and he’ll smell what we’ve been doing otherwise.”
Oof, supernatural senses.
“Good idea.” I remain where I am, squirming as Asher’s cock pulses against my hip. “But could you maybe kiss me just once mo?—”
Asher dips down for another kiss, and I close my eyes, returning every lick and caress. It takes us several more minutes to extricate ourselves. Asher stands, still hard, his cock a delicious outline under his black sweatpants. My mouth waters at the sight, and he sniffs, then groans.
“Stop that.” He presses the heel of his hand over his dick. “You’re not helping the situation.”
I cover my face with my hands, giggling. “Sorry, sorry. You’re just… I really like you, Asher.”
