Page 101 of All Packed Up

As sleep slowly released its hold on her, Wendy studied Tate. His soft blond lashes seemed to hover above his cheeks. His jaw was sharp as a piece of damned glass, and she reached out to trace it before she could stop herself.

His nose wrinkled before he blinked. The first time, he didn’t seem coherent at all. It wasn’t until the third blink that some form of recognition lit up his gaze, and Wendy chuckled softly at the sleepy alpha.

How adorable. She just wanted to gather him up and put him in her pocket.

Or she wanted to taste that lazily growing smile on his lips with her own.

“Good morning,” he croaked.

Wendy’s lips curled in a smile of affection. “Good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“No clue,” she answered. Her phone hadn’t been on for a while, and even if it was, she was terrible at keeping up with the damned thing. “Early, based on the light.” She nodded her head past him, toward the front windows that looked out over the porch.

Tate hummed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her across his chest.

With a quiet giggle, Wendy draped herself over his torso and stared up at him. Sleepy half smile in place and just looking so… adorable.

Her pulse picked up its pace as she traced his features, the sharp line to his jaw, the messy blond curls, his sticky blinks.

“You make me feel like a teenager,” she admitted, cheeks flushing.

Tate tilted his head to the side, and her heart flipped. His energy was so electric and fun and lighthearted, and Wendy wondered how different her life would have been if she’d met Tate in college instead of Derek.

“What do you mean?” he asked, caressing his hands up and down her arms.

Now she felt silly. “Oh, I don’t really know how to explain it,” she murmured, rolling her eyes.

“Try?” Tate asked, throwing those big blues in her direction and giving her the best impression of a puppy dog she’d ever seen.

“Ugh,” she groaned, hiding a smile by dipping her head down on his chest. Turning her head to the side, she saw Nic half buried under the blankets on the other side of Tate. He was dead asleep, but she didn’t know where Arlo and Griffith had gone, so she lowered her voice anyway. “I don’t know really. Just… you make me feel like sneaking around and making out behind the bleachers or something.”

Tate curled his arms around her back and twined his fingers. “Making out behind the bleachers, huh?” His smirk would be the death of her. “Is making out in front of the fireplace close enough?”

A soft laugh escaped, and Wendy found herself reaching up to him, threading her fingers in his messy blond locks, lowering her lips to his.

Tate was sweet, and she drew in a breath as their lips parted, her senses filling with his taste. The creamy smoke of his scent curled around her, and the slow warmth in her belly was growing hotter as she lapped at him.

She tasted his lips and then parted her mouth for him, where she got to taste him deeper. His hands moved across her skin, caressing her arms and back.

Her breath caught every time he brushed a hand closer to her ass, her hips. When he curled a hand around the backside of her thigh and tugged, it slotted her right over his knee. Wendy let out a slow gasp as the friction from her layers rubbed right between her legs.

Arousal spread like a wildfire, all consuming as his palm flattened over her hip and began shifting her back and forth.

Biting back a moan, Wendy dipped her head to his chest as he ground her against his thigh. Tate was hard too, his length bulging against his boxers.

Too curious for her own good, Wendy tickled her fingers along the waistband before tugging up his shirt. The waistband of his boxers trapped his cock to his stomach, but he was hard, and the head peeked over the waistband, a bead of precum already dotting his belly.

“You make me feel like a teenager too,” Tate whispered, a half smile in place as she jerked against his thigh.

Sucking in a breath full of their heightened scents, Wendy leaned back down and crushed their lips together. He nipped and sucked and flicked his tongue against hers, drawing breathy little gasps from her as the hand on her hip continued to rock her against him.

Wendy dropped her head as an orgasm drew close, as she rocked back and forth with a new fervor, grinding herself against his thigh, chasing the pleasure.

Clarity came only in the moment it took her to readjust, twining their legs together. She pressed a kiss to his chest as his hand threaded through her hair. A breath escaped her lips at the gentle tug, and she tilted her head up to him.

Tate paused as he met her eyes, his hand slowly sliding away from her hair. “What’s wrong?”