Page 61 of Fool Moon First Aid

Focus, Ava.

“Yep,” I say, my voice a mix of apprehension and excitement. The stark contrast between my naked vulnerability and his clothed assurance as he prepares to lift me into the shower sends a shiver of anticipation through me. The act of him carrying me, so bare and exposed, into the warm cascade of water feels like the most intimate moment we’ve ever shared.

When the shower’s heat envelops me like a comforting embrace, I let out a contented sigh as he gently places me on the seat. Towering above me, he adjusts the showerhead, demonstrating how it works. “The showerhead is on a track,” he explains, lowering it until the rainfall head douses me in a warm, soothing deluge. I close my eyes, tipping my face up into the stream. Yes, this is exactly what I craved.

“Shampoo and conditioner are right above your head. Soap too,” Brody tells me before stepping out, his shirt clinging to his skin. I can’t help but watch, my gaze locked on him as he peels his shirt off, revealing a torso rippling with muscles that flex seductively with each movement. A rush of heat floods through me, compelling me to press my legs together, the rustling sound of the protective bag silently betraying my growing desire.

His eyes catch the movement, darkening with an unspoken promise as he takes in a slow, deliberate breath. A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine, electrifying the air between us.

“I might need some help,” I admit, my voice thick with a desire I no longer wish to hide. It feels like we’re characters in a sultry fantasy, yet the fire blazing between us renders any embarrassment moot. His smirk deepens as he hooks his thumbs into his sweats, lowering them. The fabric snags on his arousal, and the sharp intake of breath from both of us fills the steamy air with unspoken yearnings.

He steps into the shower, the curtain drawing closed behind him, sealing us in our own private world. Reaching over me to the shampoo, he kneels before me, his closeness sending waves of desire crashing through me.

With the shampoo in hand, he begins to work up a lather, and I seize the moment to steer the growing tension toward something seemingly mundane. “Did you always want to be a doctor?” I ask, craving to know more about the man igniting such a storm within me.

“No,” he answers simply, sparking my curiosity further.

“Really?” My surprise is genuine. “It seems like most doctors have always known their calling.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that resonates deep within me. “I was a paramedic with the others. Ethan and I both started in nursing school. We chose paramedic work because we loved the pace. Being a wolf, I can shift and reach a patient much faster than an ambulance in traffic or on back roads.” His hands begin to massage my scalp as he shares his story, each word punctuated by touches that feel like heaven.

I resist the urge to moan, even though that is exactly what I want to do. There is just something about having another person wash your hair.

“So you actually liked being a paramedic?” I press.

“Yeah, there was this one time, when the ER was short-staffed right after we brought in a patient. It just clicked for me. I was doing rounds and didn’t even realize I’d started. The very next day, I applied for med school,” he shares, his voice filled with a mix of pride and wistfulness. His fingers drag down the strands of my hair as he leans back. “Clean.”

“And just like that, history was made,” I say with a smirk, rinsing the foam out and flipping my hair forward, letting the water sluice the last traces of shampoo away.

As I straighten up, water momentarily blinds me. When I finally blink the droplets away, Brody’s gaze locks onto mine. Gone is the casual storyteller, and in his place is this intense, almost primal presence. It’s like staring into the eyes of a wolf who’s found something precious.

My heartbeat kicks up a notch as I meet Brody’s gaze, feeling a spark ignite between us, fierce and undeniable.

He moves in closer, and his chest brushes against mine as he goes for the body wash. The feel of his body sends a shiver down my spine.

He pours the body wash into his hand and then onto my skin, his fingers painting trails of heat across my body. I let out a little moan.

His gaze darkens, filled with a desire that mirrors my own, as his hands glide over my skin and down to my thighs. He’s careful around my injury, but at this point, I’m so lost in the sensation that a little pain wouldn’t even register.

I turn so my back is to him, soaking in the feel of his touch. Our bodies slip against each other, slick from the soap, and when he pulls me closer, it’s electric.

His hands trace up my back, and he plants hot kisses along my spine. Every kiss is like a spark setting me aflame, especially when his lips find the nape of my neck, sending shivers straight through me.

I can’t help myself, I have to face him again.

Brody grips my hips as I face him, and my body reacts, my thighs parting like they are in on the secret too. His breath catches, and I arch my back, the tension between us thick enough to cut.

My heart pounds as he pulls me closer, and we’re barely inches apart. His eyes bore into mine like he’s searching for something deep inside me.

“It’s hard for me to believe that you’re here in my arms, whimpering for me, reaching out for me, your lips parting in anticipation of my kiss. All my life, I’ve dreamed of finding my mate, and now…” he murmurs, admiration and something deeper in his voice. “Here you are—the promise of every tomorrow I’ve ever craved.”

I’m speechless, so I look away, feeling too much and not knowing how to reply.

He tilts my chin up gently. “Don’t hide,” he whispers, brushing his thumb softly over my lip.

I take a deep breath, letting down my guard and meeting his eyes again. Our connection zaps through us, full of unspoken promises and a yearning that just won’t quit.

He edges closer, and shadows play across his chiseled features in the dim light, revealing raw hunger and something softly vulnerable. He leans in without looking away, and his lips brush against mine.

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