Page 43 of Forbidden Devotion
“I don’t have the luxury of a fur coat like you do. I’m keeping my clothes on.”
Mitchel let his gaze wander from Sinclair’s face all the way to his toes and back appreciatively. “Pity.”
Sinclair’s blush deepened.
As fun as this was, Mitchel had practical matters to attend to. “Have you eaten? Should you bring water or anything? I’ve only ever run with other wolves and were creatures. I’m not sure how to take care of a vampire.”
“I’m good. I’m stuffed, actually. Your wolves share their food with me now, and they never think I eat enough. I’m always full lately.” Sinclair patted his stomach.
“Fattening you up, are they? Well, that’s sweet. Come on, then. They’ll all be cleared out by the time we get there.” Mitchel led him toward the woods.
“Get where?”
“There’s a meadow where we leave all our stuff when we shift. It’s this way.”
“The clearing?” Sinclair asked. “I’ve been there. It’s beautiful.”
“That’s where we’re headed.”
Mitchel was eager to embrace his wolf form, the moon calling to him so strongly he could practically feel his fur under the skin bristling to break free, but he restrained himself from running to the field like the others. He walked with Sinclair like the civilized werewolf he was, hoping this would be the first of many full-moon celebrations they’d share.
The pack’s clothes and shoes were strewn haphazardly around the clearing.
“They must have been in a hurry.” Sinclair laughed, but his expression sobered as Mitchel undressed.
“You gonna watch?” Mitchel asked. A thinly veiled invitation.
Sinclair licked his lips. “Yes.”
Mitchel smiled, peeled off his shirt, and let it fall to the ground. He reached to undo his belt. “Should I make a show of it?”
“Do you want to?”
“Not really.”
“Then don’t. Believe me, it’s not necessary.” Sinclair’s intense gaze changed the mood. The flirty tension between them grew to something more serious. Something filled with yearning.
Mitchel’s heart thumped faster. “I’m not used to being watched.”
“I could turn around?”
“Do you want to?”
“Not really.”
“Then don’t,” Mitchel mimicked. “It’s not necessary."
He dropped the belt and toed off each shoe. Werewolves weren’t self-conscious about their nudity, but under Sinclair’s appreciative appraisal, Mitchel felt a wave of modesty that surprised him. He’d never cared what someone thought of his body until now. And he found himself caring quite a lot.
Sinclair stepped forward and placed both hands on Mitchel’s naked shoulders as though he realized Mitchel felt reticent and wanted to offer his reassurance.
Mitchel relished the warmth of his touch. Another thought struck cold. Would the same touch be cool when Sinclair was turned? He shoved the thought away. It was far too early to be thinking about that.
“You’re beautiful.” Sinclair tipped his face up for a kiss, and Mitchel’s doubts were swept away as their lips met. He took Sinclair’s waist in his hands and tugged him closer, pressing their bodies together. A pleasant, hungry flutter stirred at his core.
Sinclair ended the kiss with a silly wet pop. “Now, off with your pants,” he ordered with a flick of his wrist.
Mitchel laughed and took them off, discarding his shyness along with them. “If you need anything, let me know. I can understand you when I’m in my wolf form, even if I can’t speak,” Mitchel explained.
