Page 118 of Campfires & Canines
I hold both of our sticks while Slate's hands slide into my jacket, hot against my stomach.
The boys argue over anything and nothing. Marigold has us all howling with laughter over the escapades of her students. Jasper andOnyx inexplicably start a competition to see who can fit the most marshmallows in their mouths. When Onyx gags and spits out a whole handful of wet marshmallows, I decide we’ve had enough.
I don’t have to say a word. Simply the thought of taking my mate home sparks enough heat between us, Slate tells everyone goodnight and carries me bridal-style northwards towards our trailer.
He sets me down once we reach the kitchen, and we start mauling each other. We stumble past the plate of lopsided chocolate croissants from our recent cooking lesson with Clove. Slate’s attempts usually turn out better than mine, but I’m determined to learn.
We barely make it to the bedroom. I’m desperate, every bit of my desire is reflected back through our bond.
Later, I’m draped across Slate’s chest, sweat sticking our skin together. Snow is drifting past our window.
“It’s your first snow,” he says, his eyes on me instead of the window. I nip his palm as he brushes my hair back from my face and then turn back to the mesmerizing snowflakes.
“It’s so beautiful,” I say.
“See if you still feel that way in February,” he mutters.
I grin at him. “Want to go for a run?”
I know what he likes. “Yes, please.”
We don’t even have to strip, since our clothes are already scattered in the living room. Within seconds, we burst out into the frigid night. My wolf eyesight can see the snowflakes so clearly, I’m tempted to sit and stare. But Slate is already boundingahead, joy flooding my emotions. With a huff, I tear off after him. As I get close, he darts forward in a sprint and I give chase.
We speed through the trees, that sense of utter freedom lifting my soul until I could fly.
