Page 95 of Howl You Doin?
“I did a deep dive on all things menstrual cycles.”
She snorts, and amusement spreads across her expression. “You did what now?”
My cheeks heat, but I choose to soldier on and confess all.
“You heard me. I now know all the lady secrets, like hot baths, the best painkillers, and the effectiveness of butt rubs. I’m quite looking forward to that last one, to be honest,” I admit, and the corners of her lips twitch, making me want to kiss her. “I have an arsenal of products to soothe all your aches and pains packed in the study. I also may have gone through your things again to see what you do or don’t like.”
I have no shame in admitting that. It’s not like she doesn’t know I’ve done it before, since I was caught red-handed with one of her toys.
“You did that for me?”
She blinks like a confused owl, as I pull the lever to swing open the castle wall, and the sounds of crickets and the night greet us.
My brow furrows, and it dawns that her ex probably never took care of her. Within the first minute of googling anything menstruation related, the consensus in most chats is that women do not feel they receive adequate care from their partner during that time of the month. In fact, most men tend to avoid their partners altogether. Idiots, the lot of them.
“Because I care for you and your pussy, obviously.” I gesture for her to go ahead of me, and we make our way outside.
Her mouth goes up into a grin at that as her chocolate mane of hair shakes.
It’s the truth, and much easier to say than: “I’m infatuated with you and need to take care of you on a deeply instinctual level.” I have never felt this way about anyone else in my life, and it’s as though my wolf side is leading me here.
A large lake sits hidden behind the foliage, creating the perfect spot for her to try out her new abilities and burn off all the pastries and chocolate I packed for her. I hope she likes the strawberry-and-cream donut, lemon tart, and raspberry scones I bought, among other sweets. I don’t know what she likes, but I’m hoping to learn. Just no fucking cupcakes.
Whitley Whitt
“You said you went snooping.”I speak coyly as we walk, and I have to admit the exercise is helping to keep my mind off everything else. “Did you read one of my books?”
If he did... I might expire. I don’t need him learning about my paranormal spicy books. I have a feeling Connor will do anything in his power to tease me relentlessly over them.
I breathe in the chilled air and relax into the sounds of the insects chirping around us while I follow along through the short grass.
I’ve given up trying to figure out what his angle is with all of this, and there really is no telling what will come out of his mouth next. What man researches the menstrual cycle? Andhow sad is it that it’s probably the sweetest thing a man has ever done for me? He has to have read a romance novel.
“No, why?” he calls back to me, dashing my theory.
“Just wondering,” I grumble.
“I probably should read one, just to see what all the fuss is about.” Humor lights his blue eyes, and he leans forward with the picnic basket swinging at his side. “Which is your favorite book?”
He pauses and waits until I reach his side before he resumes walking again.
I glance up at him and shove my hands into the pockets of my robe, catching the smell of wildflowers on the breeze, and the soft trickle of water like a bubbling brook greets my ears. There’s also a tangle of sweetness coming from the basket and I’m practically drooling for it.
It still amazes me how sharp my senses have become.
“That’s a hard question, almost like asking what your favorite song is, really,” I tell him, unable to come up with one book name when I have so many favorites. “Each book makes you feel something different.”
“Hmm. Well what’s your go-to genre then?”
I think on it a moment and one of the first books I read pops into my head, one about a villain who ends up getting the girl. “Don’t laugh, but historical novels are my bread and butter.”
His shoulder grazes mine, and his touch soothes me somehow. I brush against his shoulder again on purpose, and yellow flashes in his eyes, that same sensation washing over me. The aches in my stomach soften, my heart relaxes, and my shoulders loosen.
I sigh out a breath of relief just as his eyes change again, a little longer than before. He feels it too.
“Is this normal?” I ask. “Is it because of the mate bond?”
“I don’t know. I think so.” His shoulders stiffen and he stops walking. “You don’t like it?”
