Page 56 of Taming of a Wolf

Jamie clears his throat. “You, uh… you really meant that?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even specify—”

I kiss him, stroking my fingers through his hair. “Yes, pet. Yes to all of it. I never say things I don’t mean. For better or worse.”

Jamie smiles, soft and tired. “Thanks. I needed to hear that. All of it.” His voice wavers and he coughs, clearly trying to hide his emotions.

I smirk. “I know. I have a way with words.”

“Dick.” Jamie smacks my ass.

Closing my eyes, I nuzzle into Jamie’s neck.

Mayhap like that ugly duckling, I can find where I belong too.

Chapter 15

Jamie

Early the next morning,I find Anders going through the bathroom cabinet. “Where is your razor? I wish to shave my beard.”

“Shave it?” I ask, walking around in front of him to admire the beard in question. It’s long and dense with little silver hairs popping out here and there. He must have lived a hard life for his hair to already be going gray. Reaching out, I play with his wet beard, twirling it around my fingers. “But it’s so nice.”

“I’ve been growing it out since I was a lad, but it’s time for a change. I… I would like to fit in more.”

“Really?” Hope flares warm and bright in my chest. It almost sounds like he wants to stay here in this time.

Anders’s big hands grip my hips, and he pushes me back against the sink. I sit on it, his thighs between my knees. “Aye.” Anders frowns, lowering his gaze. “I’m going to be here for a while. I should blend in more with my environment.”

For a while.I try and hide my disappointment by looking at the floor. “Okay.” I twist around to open the mirror behind me, trying to fight down my disappointment. I find the shavingcream, my best razor, and some fresh blades. I fit the razor with the blade, then grab my brush and the cream. I squirt some into my palms.

Anders sniffs my hands. “Smells good.”

“I’m going to give this a trim first,” I warn him, but he still jumps when I switch on my electric clippers. Anders eyes them with suspicion.

“Okay?” I ask. If he’s uncomfortable, I’ll stop.

Anders swallows. “I…” He glances at me, and I’m shaken to the core by the vulnerability in his eyes.

“I won’t hurt you, Anders. I promise. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

Anders holds my gaze, and after a moment’s hesitation, he nods.

My heart does flips in my chest as I lift the clippers toward his beard. Trust doesn’t come easily to Anders, yet here he is, trusting me not to hurt him. I won’t let him down.

Slowly and carefully, I shave off his beard. Anders flinches at first, shoulders drawn up to his ears. I ask him questions to help him relax, small things like what his village is like, if it ever warms up where he’s from. Gradually, Anders relaxes.

Once I’ve finished using the clippers, I lather shaving cream into his stubble. Those green eyes never stray from my face. His big hands knead at my thighs while I massage the cream in. Beneath the rough hair, his jawline is sharp and angular. I can picture the exact shape of his face, handsome but sharp and severe. There’s nothing sharp about his gaze, though. No, he looks at me with pure indulgence, like I’m all that exists as he trusts me to press a blade to his skin without doing him harm.

It’s… intimate. Touching his face. Caring for him like this. Doing something soft and domestic together like shaving. I like it. I like it too much, especially knowing what time we have together is brief.

“Ready?” I ask, my voice a whisper, our breath mingling. Anders’s throat bobs when he swallows, and then he nods. I gently press the blade to his skin and glide it through the hair. Anders’s eyes widen, but he stays still and patient while I work. I stop once in a while to rinse the blade under the tap, then continue.

My wolf is in harmony with his, and a calm like nothing I’ve ever felt guides my hand in slow, gentle motions. Slowly, his face reveals itself to me. He looks shockingly young, cheekbones high and flat, jaw as chiseled as I knew it would be. There’s a scar on his chin where hair doesn’t grow, and I wonder where he got it and how. I wonder at all of him, wishing I had time to learn all there is to know about Anders and the world he comes from.

“Where’d you get the scar?” I ask. He’s got lots of them; I’ve seen them when we make love.

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