Page 38 of Wild
“Pancakes, it is.” I was relieved to have direction. I was compiling my mental list: things that made Marina happy.
I rooted through my brother’s refrigerator and pantry for ingredients. There was a huge bag of blueberries in the freezer as if a bear shifter had been to visit, so I pulled that out, too. “You like blueberries in your pancakes?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.
“Yum. Yes.”
I wasn’t sure how she made the simplest of words sound so damn sultry.
I whipped up a bowl of pancake batter—me standing on one side of the huge island and her on the other—and put a package of bacon in a pan because my wolf needed meat with every meal. While I worked, Marina flitted around the kitchen like a goddamn butterfly. So colorful and bright. She was efficient in her movements, pulling out the cake layers from the fridge, the metal spatula things. Based on the size of the cake plate, the final product wasn’t going to be huge, but it would feed the twenty or so guests easily.
“I get that the...um, fling’s over. No worries from me.”
My wolf howled at me to say something, to tell her differently. But I couldn’t. I froze and stared.
She looked away. My lack of reply was just as telling as if I’d said the words aloud.
“I’m cool. Just, um… tell me more about you, Colton Wolf,” she declared, right before she stuck a finger of icing in her mouth.
My vision sharpened, telling me my eye color had probably changed. I blinked and looked away. My cock had punched out harder against my zipper. Fuck. I didn’t know if it was hearing my name on her lips or seeing those very same lips close around her finger and wishing it was my cock that did it. Probably both.
I was close to losing control right here in the kitchen. Ripping her clothes off and claiming her in the roughest possible manner. Showing her the fling would never end. Showing her it wasn’t a goddamn fling. But what could I say?
I’m a shifter, and I want to bite your neck and claim you so you can never leave me. Oh yeah, forget about college or any kind of dreams you may have had for yourself.
I cleared my throat. “What do you want to know?”
She washed her hands in the sink. “Everything.”
My heart never lurched. I swear to fuck, my heart had never lurched in my life, not even in combat or when my parents had died. I was a wolf and a Green Beret. I didn’t show nerves. But hearing that my little human wanted to know more about me seemed like a sign.
She was looking to fall in love. If she only wanted my dick, she’d have taken off that shirt and smeared frosting on her nipples and asked me to lick it off.
That was a fucking amazing albeit dangerous idea, but back to the point, her wanting love, I was well in the game here. Warmth seeped into my chest. Maybe we could… date. Shit. How did a guy do that?
“What’s your favorite food?” she asked.
“Steak,” I answered without thinking. “I’m a carnivore all the way. I grew up on a Montana ranch.”
She’d set out the layers of cake, then placed rectangular sheets of paper on the cake plate, then set one of the tiers on top. Grabbing the spatula, she began to frost the first one. “Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Vanilla.”
“Salty or sweet?”
“Hmm. Normally, I’d say salty, but you might change me on that.”
She laughed, her eyes focused on the task. I flipped the bacon. “Why?”
“Because right now, I’m dying to try your cake. Or your frosting. Or, hell, anything you bake.”
“Oh yeah?” she purred. She dipped her finger in the frosting bowl again and walked over to me, holding it out.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned, my dick throbbing. I couldn’t resist. What wolf could? I took her finger into my mouth and sucked it. “You taste so fucking sweet,” I said.
She laughed, and I’d never seen such a pretty sight. “That wasn’t me, but I’ll take it.” I wanted to pull her into my arms, but my pancakes needed flipping.
“Hold that thought,” I begged, turning back to the stove and flipping all four of the blueberry pancakes. I turned back to her.
“Have you ever—” She broke eye contact and cleared her throat. “—been married? Or had a serious girlfriend?”
