Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Was that the punishment? Leaving me aroused and needy and completely unsatisfied? I had no idea this was what it means to be near your mate.
Or was Asher showing mercy because he thought I didn’t want it? I probably looked like I didn’t. Did I tell him no? I can’t remember now. I was nervous, for sure.
I was downright afraid when he first showed up, and that made him angry. He needed me to understand why he was here. He may hate me, but he’s my mate. He can’t stay away from me any more than I can refuse him when he shows up.
We’re biologically wired for each other, as horrible as that may be for both us.
Ugh!
Still shaky and hot, I strip out of my clothes and turn on the shower to cold. Maybe if I wash his scent off me, I’ll be able to calm down.
Fate, I hope so, or the chances of me sleeping tonight are nil.
Chapter Nine
Asher
I don’t sleep a minute all night or the next. I just lie awake, tossing and turning. Jacking off over and over again to try to stop myself from shifting and running the short distance back to Lotta’s casita.
Fates, I suddenly understand the human lore about werewolves–the idea of a shifter chaining himself up, so he won’t shift and go out.
That’s what I need to do. Because I’m quite certain if I let myself shift, I would smash Lotta’s door down and claim that female so hard the entire town of Wolf Ridge would hear her screams.
Monday morning, I find myself out of bed before dawn. I yank open the top drawer to my dresser and shove aside my socks. I pick up the last envelope that arrived addressed to me in my dad’s handwriting. It came about six months ago. Inside, there was no note. Just nine crisp one hundred dollar bills wrapped in a torn piece of notebook paper with scratches that look a lot like bets on them.
He’s probably cage fighting. Or stealing again–who knows.
The last envelope came eight months before this one. There’s no rhyme or reason to when they come or how much he sends. He’s never sent a letter with it. But he never was the kind of dad to say anything nice.
I guess I should be grateful he remembers he has a son.
Even before my dad got kicked out, he wasn’t much of a father figure. Now, because my mom refused to leave with him when he was banished, he’s completely out of touch. He doesn’t call or text or Facetime. We have no idea where he lives or what he does.
My mom refuses to take any of the money–she’s too pissed at my dad for what he did. She says the cash is probably dirty, and it’s for me anyway–his form of child support–so I can do what I want with it. I try to stretch it as long as I can, chipping in to buy us groceries, pay my own expenses, and buy my mom nice birthday and Solstice presents.
I crack the envelope open now. There are three hundreds left. I don’t know why I’m looking. Why my thoughts are connecting money to Lotta. Like I’m going to use it to court her. Or show off to her. Or provide for her.
As if.
Beneath the envelope is a slender chain with a thin crescent moon pendant made of real gold.
I pick it up now and bring it to my nostrils as if it might still hold Lotta’s scent after all these years. It doesn’t, but it helps me conjure that sweetness, anyway. Jasmine, honey, and the mouth-watering scent of her feminine arousal make my head swim.
I give it a rough shake.
I shower and get on my motorcycle, beating my mom to Wolf Ridge Sweet Treats. The scent of freshly baked croissants fill the alleyway where I park my motorcycle. Mrs. Angelson is already working inside, unwrapping a stick of butter to throw in the churning mixer.
Her wrinkled face lights up with a smile when I come in the back door. The rest of the town may think I’m a hoodlum, but Mrs. Angelson has always treated me like I was special. In fact, if she hadn’t stood behind my mom when my dad got kicked out of the pack, I’m not sure my mom and I would have even been able to stay in Wolf Ridge. She found extra hours to give my mom after my dad left even when she didn’t need the help. Even when making ends meet was a strain for her, too.
“Good morning, Asher. You’re up early. I thought your suspension was over today.”
I lean down and press my cheek to her wrinkled one to give her a kiss. “It is. But I came to take care of your morning deliveries.”