Page 12 of Naughty Elf: Wink

He smirked at me, a dimple peeking out from his light beard. “Until you know the difference between dream and reality, that’s the way it’ll be.” He did, however, open his arms to welcome me in.

Sighing, I wiggled over, setting my cheek on his chest and feeling warmth and contentment as he held me close. “Suit yourself, but this could’ve been a way hotter dream if you’d been willing to play along.”

Wink’s chuckle vibrated through me. “You’re not making this easy on me. I’mtryingto be a gentleman.”

“Gentle elf,” I corrected, yawning. I felt more at home here in his arms than I ever had. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, this was where I belonged. I felt his lips on my forehead as I drifted off to sleep, and I wished as hard as I could that he would still be there in the morning.

I woke late, with sun streaming through the window. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in, and I felt fully rested. As I came aware, though, I noticed one major difference.

There was an arm wrapped around my waist, my back pressed to someone’s chest.

I blinked my eyes open slowly, listening. Was this still a dream? But I heard the slow and even inhale of someone, their soft breath feathering the back of my neck. I had a brief moment of panic, from years of ingrained paranoia instilled by my parents.

Beware of strangers, they can’t be trusted.

Don’t go out after dark, but if you do, hold your keysin your fist.

Don’t leave your drink unattended because someone could drug you.

It probably went without saying that you shouldn’t invite those sexy strangers into your bed, but that was exactly what I’d done.

And just like that, the fear dissipated. This wasn’t a stranger—not in the strictest sense of the word. This was Wink, my… elf?

I tried to roll over and take a look at him, to confirm that he was, in fact, real and not some figment of my imagination. But that little bit of movement roused him, and he groaned, his arm drawing tighter around my waist and pulling me back against his—

I barely had time to register the thickness of his hard shaft pressed against my bare ass before he drew a sharp inhale and sat up, releasing me and jumping off the bed in one move. “Shit,” he cursed.

When I rolled over to look at him, he was frozen like a prey animal, like he was hoping I couldn’t see him.

“You know, your outfit doesn’t really work as camouflage,” I said, propping myself up on one elbow.

“I fell sleep,” he said unnecessarily, his voice all gravelly.

“Yes, I can see that.” He looked absolutely adorable with bedhead, pillow creases across the left side of his face.

We stayed in our standoff for a few long moments. “You’re not screaming,” he pointed out.

“You noticed that, did you?” Though I thought he could probably make me scream his name if he tried. I patted the bed. “Why don’t you come back to bed. I feel like we have a few things to discuss.”

It only took him a moment to decide, before he lay back on the bed, carefully maintaining a few inches of distance between us. I had the urge to dig my fingers into his hair, to bury my nose into his neck and breathe him in, to strip him bare and ride him into a lather, to bite him until he bled, marking him— Uh, no, not bite. That would be weird. Where did that thought come from?

“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” I said, forcing myself to keep my distance instead of doing all those things I so desperately yearned to do.

“Well, I guess it all started when I lost my job…” Wink explained it all. That he was an elf and used to work at the North Pole, that he’d been sent here using magic, to somehow find the life that was meant for him.

As absolutely insane as it sounded, I never once called bullshit. In fact, the only question I could come up with was, “What’s Santa like?” His reply of “Which one?” was not what I’d been expecting and led to a whole other explanation.

But then he rolled to face me and said, “There’s more…” His blue eyes clouded with worry. “It’s about you… and where you came from.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He bit down on his lower lip, hesitating to spill whatever hard truth he was clinging to. I grabbed his hand. “Tell me.”

“You’re what’s called a shifter. You share your body with an animal. It would’ve first happened at puberty, passed down genetically from your biological parents. Normally, shifters are pretty evenly divided between their human and animal selves, aware of each other. They communicate and cooperate, but for some reason, it’s like there’s a barrier inside you, keeping you apart.”

“I’m a…” I trailed off, unable to say the word out loud. I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “Half animal? W-What kind of animal?”

Wink gave me a sheepish grin, shrugging. “A raccoon.”

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