Page 77 of Shifted Desire

I’m still dressed, and there’s no sign of the man in question, and—I rub my eyes to unblur to blue glow of the digital alarm clock that tells me it’s 4am—I slept here almost the whole night.

What the fuck?

I must’ve fallen asleep on him on the couch, because the last thing I can remember is snuggling against his chest as he stroked my hair, and giving myself a moment to soak it in before we moved on to sex.

Apparently, he cuddled me so well that it knocked me out, carried me into his bedroom, and then left. Did he not want to sleep next to me?

I internally roll my eyes at that pathetic thought. The man told me that he loves spending time with me. He wanted me here. Maybe he’s in the shower or getting some water.

If he’s out sleeping on his couch because he was worried about me being upset at him for sharing a bed with me without asking, that’s ridiculous. Sweet and considerate, but ridiculous.

Slipping out from under the covers, I stretch and roll my neck, noting that the normal ache in my lower back I get after sleeping is completely absent. Damn, his mattress is really nice. He probably needs the premium shit to keep his old bones from aching too much.

Ugh, now I feel bad about taking his bed if he’s out on the couch. He needs good rest a hell of a lot more than I do. Sex is helping with the toll his curse has been taking on his body, but there’s only so much it can do if he rarely transforms.

From what I know of werewolves, they regenerate a lot every time they shift on a full moon. It slows their aging so much that some humans, the ones who are aware that monsters exist, will go so far as to coerce a were into biting them and passing on the curse. Even some paranormal creatures think a werewolf's bite will give them more vitality, despite the vast majority of us being immune to the curse due to our supernatural nature.

Huh. Is that why Nathan is so against transforming? Have people tried to use him in the past?

Gods, the thought makes my stomach twist.

I wish I could ask him, but it’s clearly not something he wants me to know about. And there’s an annoying part of me that hates that he won’t let me know that side of him. That he doesn’t trust me enough.

But that level of trust only matters when something is serious. Like a relationship, not secret fuck buddies. So I really shouldn’t care.

Agitation rises in me, and my gut tells me I should try to sneak out before he realizes I’m awake. After all, he didn’t invite me to stay the night. I’m the asshole who fell asleep on him after dinner.

We didn’t even have sex.

That’s not how this is supposed to go. We’re supposed to flirt and banter and then fuck when he gets turned on.

The weirdest urge to cry rises inside me. A tangle of confusion, relief, rejection, and affection.

This isn’t how this is supposed to go, but gods, it’d be nice to throw away the script I’ve faithfully followed for years. Let things happen without always looking for an escape route. Let it progress without shutting down before I get hurt. Let myself care.

Fuck. Stop thinking that.

I should go.

I should get out of here. Now.

I should…

“Samantha?”

“Ah!” I stumble backwards as Nathan appears in the doorway, my name a husky rumble.

He’s beside me in an instant, moving far faster than a man his age has any right to, steadying me with an arm behind my back. He’s bare-chested, his skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration as if he just got done with a vigorous workout, and I stare at his torso for far too long, wondering what his sweat tastes like.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, keen golden eyes shining in the low light when I pull my gaze away from his chest.

My brain stutters at him calling me baby, and I can’t get any words to form.

His thumb strokes my lower back through the thin fabric of the shirt as he smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if you were okay to sleep over, but you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Why is he so fucking nice to me? I don’t want to examine that, so I ask the only other thing that comes to mind.

“Were you working out?”