Page 11 of A Hutch for Hoover

I stacked everything up on his foldable dolly, and he rolled it around to his vehicle. It didn’t take long at all to load everything.

“Where’s your car?” he asked, holding my hand.

“I came here with friends and, when we realized it was Community Days, they left for dart night as well, and I hung around hoping to network.” I pressed my forehead to his. “When I opened the door, I scented you—better than networking. I was just gonna take a rideshare back.”

“You were?” I think that’s what he mumbled, anyway. I hated that I needed to match his face with the words with the wind blowing as it was. He pulled back. “I have a better idea.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I had ideas too and all of them involved privacy.

“Wanna come back to my place?”

“Obviously, yes.” And then I did something I’d never done in my life. I leaned in and kissed him.

I wasn’t a prude. Or weirdly purity-focused. I’d just never wanted to kiss someone before. And with Grant, there was nothing I wanted more.

It was just a soft touch of lips, but Grant deepened it, and my arms wrapped around him and his around me. If we kept going like this, we weren’t going to make it home. And I wanted to make it home. Wanted to be in his space, just he and I.

When the kiss broke, both of us were breathless. He held on to me a few more seconds before meeting my eyes and saying it was time to leave.

His place wasn’t far. And it was a gazillion times better than mine. Did I know this for fact? Not really, but it had to be. The bar was low.

“Do you wanna shift first?” he asked as he unlocked the door. “My wolf really wants to meet your rabbit.”

I shook my head. “I don’t shift at night.”

I took his hand, opened it up in front of me, then pulled off my hearing aids, one at a time, and placed them in it.

“These are my ears,” I said. “When they’re not in, I can’t hear. My rabbit can’t hear, either.”

He looked at the devices. Then back at me. Then pointed at my ears.

He wanted them back in.

He wanted me to hear him.

“It can wait,” he said, placing his hand on my cheek when they were finally in place.

I leaned into his touch.

“Don’t worry about it. My wolf can simmer down and be patient. And besides…” His thumb stroked over my cheek. “There are a lot of things I’d rather do than shift right now. All of which require you and I getting naked.”

“You don’t care that I’m broken?”

“I wouldn’t say I don’t care. I know it has to be hard for you, and that’s not something I love. But it doesn’t change that you’re mine. And I’m yours. And I want you exactly the way you are.”

He kissed me again, soft and sweet.

“We’ll talk later”—another kiss—“about how you’re not broken. But right now”—he rubbed his nose against mine playfully—“I think we should take this to the bedroom.”

I wasn’t going to argue with him on that.

Chapter Ten

Grant

Hoover told me later that our mating was his first time making love, kissing, everything, but I would never have guessed that was the case when we went into my bedroom. Every touch, every kiss, his gentle hands easing my shirt off, lips following the skin he exposed… He made me feel like the only omega on the whole planet, and although we weren’t saying the words—loved.

He reached for the waistband of my jeans and slid them down my hips, taking my boxer briefs with them. Kneeling, he had me brace my hands on his shoulders while he untied my shoes and removed them then my socks and pushed me gently down to sit on the bed. With my clothing on the chair next to the bed, he looked up my body. “Omega.” His hoarse voice, the tension in his expression made it hard to breathe. “I have to taste you.”

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