Page 22 of The Wolf's Secret Twins

“Okay.”

And with that, she left me on the porch with my heart in my hands, confused and sweaty like a teenage boy in the gym. Everything about it, from the slick of my palms to my racing breath, made me feel more alive than ever.

Chapter 8 - Virginia

Desire followed me into the house. I quelled it long enough to get the twins situated, their teeth brushed, their games turned off. Once the overhead light was out and the stars were twinkling, I listened for a while in the kitchen, busying myself with some dishes, trying to discern whether or not my kids were asleep. I didn’t want them to hear me sneaking Slater into the house.

But then again, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to sneak Slater into the house.

That kiss had made my stomach flip with equal parts excitement and guilt. There was so much he didn’t know about, and so much I wasn’t sure about telling him.

I bit my lower lip.If I tell him the truth about the twins being his, then he might run off. My eyes darted to the door.Or would that make him stay?

Gods, to be so at odds with myself was unnerving. But I knew one way to make the pain go away. He was sitting outside. He was waiting for me to return.

I stepped onto the porch. About twenty minutes had passed since I’d left Slater out here, and he hadn’t done much except sit back and cross his arms over his chest. He appeared to be napping, but that was a trick he had picked up from his time in the Frostcrown training camp. If he looked like he was unaware, then the enemy would sneak up and he could catch them off guard.

It wouldn’t fool me. Though I could hardly be fooled at this stage.

I opened the door wider and whispered, “Come on.”

Slater perked up like he hadn’t been sleeping at all—as expected. He scanned the yard once more, stepped into the kitchen, and unlaced his boots. After quietly sliding them off, he set them next to the door and padded into the living room. I watched him turn around slowly, examining everything from the children’s paintings in the foyer to the modest television and modern furniture.

His eyes came to rest on me. And then he waited.

I massaged my elbow. What was I supposed to do now? Invite him to my bedroom? It was like I’d been thrown back into high school with my awkward pigeon toes and my weird high-pitched giggle. Was he thinking about the same thing? Or maybe he was just waiting for me to make a move.

I want him to make a move, I thought.I’m tired of handling everything. I just want someone to handle me.

Silence permeated the air around me as Slater took one step toward me, then another. Goosebumps rippled up my arm. Those eyes penetrated every wall I’d erected to keep him out. I was willing to bet he could read my mind, my every emotion, all my secrets tumbling out at once.

Yet he didn’t retreat. He didn’t cringe. He saw me for who I was in that moment, and he just kept stepping toward me until there wasn’t any space left. His fingers crawled up my arms lightly. His breath came in jagged waves, anticipation taking us both by storm as I stood up on my toes. I wanted to kiss him again, but not where we could be seen.

I took his hand and led him toward the hallway. We toed our way past the kids’ room where I paused to peek inside. Both of them were fast asleep, their rhythmic snores calming my mommy side. With a quiet sigh, I closed the door and yanked Slater into the main bedroom. The knob clicked into place. The silence resumed.

No, that wasn’t pure silence. That was my heart battering my chest. That was my blood rushing through my ears. That was my zipper cracking open through the thickness of the tension between us, bursting like static, likeme.

We were alone now. Finally.

Soft steps pattered the carpet. Slater stood in front of me, over me, watching me with bright eyes that made me want to drop to my knees. Heat crawled over my upper back and dropped to my core. It laced through me. It lathered me with desire. Whatever he was about to do would certainly make me detonate.

Years had passed since we had kissed each other. I couldn’t believe I had done it twice now, and that I was about to do it again. But could I ever really stop myself with Slater? Our bodies had always drawn together. Nothing could keep us apart.

Even a terrible betrayal wasn’t strong enough to keep us away from each other.

What did that say about us?

His fingers skated over my wrist. Touch was something I’d sorely underestimated during my celibacy. Yeah, I’d hugged people, touched shoulders, and even gotten some kisses on the cheek from a date. But this was a lover’s touch. This was a gesture that spoke of underlying feelings and devotion.

This wasfamiliarity.

And I was more than willing to give myself over to it.

As soon as I tilted my head back, Slater dove for my throat, burrowing his lips so hard into the muscle that I choked. His arms circled me at once and crushed me to his chest as he sought to mark every available space with his lips. Kiss after kiss burned my skin, reminding me of the very last night we’d spent together before everything had gone awry.

I burned. Ipined. I was ready to perish under the heat of his affection, my hands struggling to find something to clutch as his mouth bruised me and made me ache. My slit twitched with his deepening passion that darted south to my breasts. He yanked my shirt up and exposed them, rubbed them, squeezed them like he was having trouble understanding the fact that they were his for the taking, that they were attached to me and that I was, by extension, his to take as well.

Did that make sense?

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