But I still hesitated.
“I can sleep in the chair,” he said, as if sensing my thoughts.
“No,” I told him. “It’s cool. We can share the bed. We’re supposed to be mated, anyhow.”
“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Oh yeah,” I said, making sure my voice was as casual as I could make it. “No problem.”
“All right, then.” He moved into the room and began to strip off his shirt. “You want the right side or the left side?”
“Left.” We were so normal about all of this. Like it was nothing. I glanced over at him from under my lashes and noticed his broad bare chest. He was unbuckling his belt and sliding down his jeans, and I caught sight of a pair of checkered boxers before I turned away again.
I needed to change, too. I could just strip down my clothing. Nudity wasn’t anything for shifters, especially werewolves, since you tore off your clothing before a change so you didn’t ruin it. I’d seen everyone in my small pack more naked than most people saw their spouses. But this was different. This was me, getting undressed to climb into bed with my
mate.
But I couldn’t leave the room to change. What if the others noticed? Plus, I needed to get used to seeing Jackson naked - the full moon was tomorrow night and that meant a pack run. If I acted all maidenly around him then, it’d make things worse. Sucking in a deep breath, I turned my back to him, pulled my shirt over my head, and began to change out of my clothing.
I kept my eyes straight ahead, staring at the wall as I methodically undressed and changed into my sleep t-shirt. If he watched me, I didn’t notice. I concentrated on undressing and then tossing my clothes in the hamper. When I turned around, Jackson was already in bed - right side - and fluffing one of my pillows. I sucked in a deep breath, turned off the light, and climbed into bed next to him.
My bed was small. Way freaking small. Even when I turned on my side, I could feel Jackson’s skin against mine, his arm against my arm. I turned on my side, but then it meant that my ass brushed up against his arm. Didn’t want that. Of course, if I flipped around, my breasts would be rubbing up against him and my face would be inches away from him. Didn’t want that, either. I laid on my back again, staring up at the ceiling.
“Do you wanna talk, Alice?”
Jackson’s voice was ultra low, so low that I could barely hear it over the distant roar of another movie downstairs, and the low hum of conversation. He was deliberately trying to keep our conversation quiet, so the others wouldn’t pick up that we were talking. I looked over at him in bed, and as I did, he turned on his side, facing me. His scent overwhelmed my nostrils.
God, he smelled good. God, I was so nervous.
“Talk?” I whispered. “About what?”
“Me and you. You’re scared of me. I can smell it.”
So humiliating. “I am not.”
“You’re also lying in this bed, stiff as a board.”
I said nothing.
He rubbed his neck, then sighed. “Hell, Alice, you’re making me feel like a damn rapist.”
That only made me go stiffer. “Sorry.”
“Look, have I made you uncomfortable somehow? Done something to freak you out?”
I shook my head, feeling a little guilty. “It’s not you. It’s me. Everyone’s going to be expecting, you know. You and me. And I’m…”
“A virgin. I remember.” He sighed. “Trust me, I remember.” To my surprise, he reached out and brushed a lock of hair off my forehead. It was a possessive, yet weirdly comforting gesture. “And they’re not expecting you and me to marry. They just want pack life to get back to normal. They’re desperate for it and looking to us for cues.”
I was desperate for it, too. But I couldn’t say that.
“Thing is,” Jackson said, then paused. “You jump every time I touch you. You’re stiff with dread every time my arm brushes yours. And that’s just going to keep dividing lines.”
Stiff…with dread? “I’m not stiff with dread,” I pointed out. “I’m just…a virgin. This is a lot for me to take in, you know.”
“I know.” His voice was achingly soft. “You ever been kissed?”
I could feel my face heating up in the dark. “Once. When I was twelve. Then Cash beat the hell out of him for touching his sister.”
Jackson chuckled. “Cash sounds like a good brother.”
He was an overprotective, arrogant ass. He was a risk-taker, quick to argue, hard-headed, stubborn, and unbending. And I desperately, desperately missed him. “He was the best,” I said, my voice hoarse with tears.
Warm arms wrapped around me, and I found my face being pressed against warm male chest. “I’m sorry, Alice. I know this is hard on you. You haven’t even had a chance to grieve. Not properly. You’re too busy trying to hold shit together.”
Hot tears poured from my eyes. To hear someone verbalize exactly how I felt? Lost, alone, and so miserable? It felt good - and awful - at the same time. I buried my face against his chest and tried to muffle my sniffles even as I continued to cry. I couldn’t weep for my lost brother in front of the pack. I had to be strong. But here? In a stranger’s arms? I was going to be allowed to grieve.
Jackson continued to stroke my hair and my back while I cried quietly, simply holding me and comforting me. Eventually, my tears died away. I remained in his arms, though, comforted by his gentle touches and caresses.
“Is my touch bothering you?” he asked, his voice low and husky against my ear. “Do you want me to stop?”
Just the feel of his breath against my skin made me shiver. But…I didn’t want him to stop. I was warm, and comforted, and for the first time in weeks, I felt safe. “I…no. I like your touch.”
And then I felt a blush crawl up my cheeks for saying that.
“Good. I like touching you, too.”
My body prickled with awareness, and I became extremely aware of how I was pressed against him. My breasts - loose under my sleep shirt - were pressed to his chest, and one of my knees was between his. “Well,” I said shyly. “This is one way to get used to each other.”
“It is,” he agreed, and there was a hint of amusement in his voice. I couldn’t see his face, though, since I was pressed against his chest, but I could picture the smile on his mouth. “You know…you’re welcome to explore me, if you like.”
“Explore?”
“Yeah. Your virginity? It can stay as long as you want. You take the lead. But…if you want to explore me without fear, get to know a man, you can. I’m willing.”
I sat up, frowning down at him in the bed. His face was utterly serious - and utterly gorgeous - in the low moonlight trickling in through the blinds. “Is that a pick-up line?”
“Not at all. But you and I are mates.” His fingers reached up to brush against the bite mark on my neck. “For the good of both of our packs. So I figure this relationship can be as chaste - or not - as you want it to be. I know what I want, but I’m willing to let you lead.”
Anxiety - and anticipation - fluttered through me. “And…what is it you want?”
He just gave me a sleepy-eyed look, full of desire. “You could touch me and see exactly what I want.”
I sucked in a breath, my mind filling with images. Me, leaning over the bed, pulling down the blankets, and exposing Jackson - all of Jackson - to my gaze. Leisurely touching him however I wanted. Seeing how he liked it.
The thought was incredibly appealing.
“Go on,” he murmured, pulling the blankets down and exposing his chest to me. “I won’t touch you, Alice. Not unless you ask me to.”
Hesitant, I sat back on my knees and regarded him. I placed my palm against his chest, right over his heart. The heavy
thump thump
in his chest sped up a little at my touch. He felt warm, too, his skin soft. His chest was tanned, though I could see tan-lines on his body - darker mid-bicep and around his collar. A redneck tan, Trina would laugh. But looking at this gorgeous man in my bed? It wasn’t amusing so much as it was fascinating. He had a sprinkle of chest hair across his pectorals, too, and it narrowed to a trail that led down his belly and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers. I pulled the blankets down, unable to stop myself from looking…and stopped.
His boxers were tented, his arousal evident.
My startled gaze flew back to him, but he hadn’t moved. He was still watching me with that predatory gaze, his eyes gleaming with wolf. He was…aroused at my touch? At the thought of me exploring him?
I felt my own arousal rise through me, speeding my pulse even faster. I knew he only wanted me because I came with the pack, but it was hard not to be attracted to him. Jackson was gorgeous to look at, and utterly masculine. And despite that outward serenity? He was all alpha, and it called to me and sang in my blood. Likewise, he probably felt a pull to me because I was a female alpha, but I wasn’t a beauty. My nose was short, my chin stubborn and square, and I didn’t do anything with my hair other than wash it. I’d lost weight in the past few weeks because of stress, so I probably looked all hollow and lost.
I hesitated, then brushed my hand down his thigh. It was lightly sprinkled with hair, and strong. I felt his muscles twitch as I touched him, and he groaned, shifting in the bed. I could have sworn his boxers moved a little, too. That was fascinating.
But I wasn’t ready to touch him there, yet. So I ran my fingers back up his leg and then across his stomach, feeling the hard muscles there. He was trim, not an ounce of fat on him. His biceps were corded with muscle, and all of him was gorgeous. He was built like a statue, except warm and flexing under my touch.
My fingertips skimmed one nipple, and I glanced at his face to see his reaction.
He gave another low groan, his gaze on my face.
I could feel my own breathing becoming rapid, my nipples tight. The scent of my arousal began to hang in the air, along with a thickening musky smell that I’d come to associate with Jackson.
I ran my fingers along the taut nipple again, curious. “Do men like to be touched here?”
“Not as much as they like to be touched in other places,” he admitted, his voice tight.
“Oh,” I said, fascinated by his reactions. And I wanted more of them. Wanted to see what else I could do to him. So I went back to touching him, my hand stroking down the firm wall of his chest. Did I dare to continue exploring?
“You can stop if you want,” he told me, again in that curiously tight voice. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
But I was having fun. And I’d never explored a man’s body before. I wanted to continue, so I just shook my head and slipped my hand into his boxers.
His skin was scorching hot. Immediately, my fingers brushed against the hard length of his cock, and something wet.
Jackson’s breath hissed out of him, and then his hands were pushing past mine to tug at his boxers. “Take these off.”
I retreated, watching as he slid the boxers down his legs and kicked them to the ground, and then he was naked and laying before me.
And oh mercy, he was utterly gorgeous. Shifters tended to have appealing bodies anyhow. We were naturally athletic as a race, and our metabolisms allowed us to eat like monsters. But some people were just flat out mouth-watering, and Jackson was clearly one of them. He had a tan-line right above his groin, and below that, his skin was pale white. The dark trail of hair seemed bold against his skin, leading to the curls surrounding his cock and balls. And, well, he was lucky enough to be extremely well-equipped. His cock was long and smooth, the head glistening with pre-cum. His balls were tight round globes underneath, and I was curious to see what they’d feel like.
I glanced up at Jackson.
He nodded at me, that heavy-lidded gaze watching my every move. His hands still lay to his sides, but I noticed they were curled into fists, now. So he wouldn’t reach for me and spoil my fun?
I hesitated a moment longer, and then my wolf curiosity got the best of me. My fingers stroked through the curls of his sex, and I brushed them against his sac. The skin there was softer than I’d imagined, yet delicate. Fascinated, I trailed my fingertips upward, tracing a large vein that ran along the underside of his cock.
His breathing became rapid. “That feels good, Alice. I like your touch. Your hands are soft.”
“Softer than yours,” I said, surprised at my teasing as I wrapped my fingers around his length, testing the girth of him. Thicker than I’d imagined, too.
“Feels better on my cock than all these calluses,” he told me, spreading a hand out so I could see.