Page 77 of Can't Help Growling in Love
I work myself open slowly, sliding my fingers over my pussy lips, then push inside. I’m not as sensitive as I was before, but the cool touch of lube still has me hissing in a breath. I add more and smear it around until I’m coated with it, inside and out, and as ready for Asher as I’ll ever be.
I’m trembling, my anticipation from earlier mixed with a heavy dose of lust and apprehension, but it melts away at the thought of Asher waiting for me outside the door.
Yet he’s nowhere to be seen when I open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom. Confused, I move into the hallway, but he’s not there, and the kitchen is empty, too.
“Asher?”
Worry pierces through my giddiness. The sliding door of the large bay window in the living room is gaping open, a slow autumn breeze ruffling the curtains.
Then I notice a piece of paper taped to the window. I hurry over, tear it away from the glass, and stare down at the two words scrawled on it in what I assume is Asher’s writing.
Run, baby.
I whirl on my feet, heart thundering. Our conversation on chasing replays in my mind. I search the edges of the twilit forest beyond Asher’s property with my gaze.
I wouldn’t mind that. It sounds like fun.
You’d want me to chase you, baby? Pin you down and fuck you right there?
The note flutters from my fingers. I dash for the hallway to pull on my boots. I don’t bother with socks, but I’m not about to run in the forest at night barefoot. Then I unlock the front door and sneak through it, closing it softly behind me.
Asher must be watching the back entrance, expecting me to come barreling right into his arms, no doubt.
But if my man wants a chase, I’ll give him one.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
ASHER
I wait in the shadows, hidden behind a maple tree. Its trunk isn’t thick enough to conceal me, but June won’t see me, not in this darkness.
“Asher?”
She calls my name from the kitchen, and I nearly break cover and run to her. My mate is calling me, and it’s almost enough to cut through my need.
But no—she’s smart. She’ll find the note and know immediately what’s going on.
I watch her as she notices the piece of paper I taped to the window. She squints into the night, trying to find me.
Any moment now, she’ll run out into the garden, searching for me.
Then June turns on her heels and disappears into the hallway. I straighten, straining my ears to listen for any sounds—and almost miss the quiet click of the front door opening.
She’s running. Away from me? Did she get cold feet? Will the rumble of my truck’s engine follow as she tries to escape what will inevitably happen when I catch her?
A blur of lighter gray to my right. It’s her, plunging into the undergrowth at the side of my property.
I grin, relief punching through me at the sight.
Clever mate.
She knew I’d be waiting. Knew I’d catch her within seconds if she came out the back door.
My howl pierces the night quiet. A flock of crows takes off from the trees behind me, cawing loudly. Silence descends, and I listen, standing statue-still.
There.
