Page 67 of Full Moon Frenzy

“Yes,” she whispered. “I do.” Something moved through his eyes at her words, and she shivered in response. “Would you ever get married again?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in his voice. “Do you want to have kids?”

“Maybe? I’m not opposed to the idea, but I’m also not climbing the walls to get pregnant.”

Trapp nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Same. Not opposed. Not desperate.”

“Finances?” She swallowed hard, unsure of what even to ask. “I-I have a savings account and that’s it. Someone gave me the number of an investor here in town that I’m supposed to call, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Don’t. I wouldn’t trust anyone but my dad. Making money on money is one of his superpowers . . . but I will be disowned if I ever get married again without a prenup. I know I’m just a paramedic, but I’m also a trust fund baby. Just putting that out there. But whatever my brother and his fiancée worked out for theirs protects both of them very adequately.”

“I’d sign one,” she had assured him. “And if you ever cheated on me, I’d set you up in a scheme that would send you to prison for the rest of your life.”

Trapp burst out laughing, hunching in pain as his shoulders shook.

“C’mon. I want to see your ribs. It would be a joke if we just ran through an entire relationship’s worth of serious discussions in thirty seconds and you die tonight from an untreated pulmonary contusion.”

“I went to see my dad this morning,” he murmured, once he was on his back, T-shirt discarded, ignoring her protest that this was not a satisfactory way to check for damage. “Summoned. I was summoned by my dad this morning, I guess is more accurate.”

Adriana slid her hands up his side, carefully feeling along each rib. He was thick with muscle, every contour of his body bearing the evidence of time spent in the gym, and she wondered how many hours a week were required to look this good. “He can do that? Deep breath in for me.”

“He repeated something my brother told him, I guess,” he said, just before obliging, sucking in a breath.

She had never belonged to a gym in her life. She wasn’t toned; she wasn’t cut. She slept poorly and regularly ate food of questionable origin from sidewalk carts, up until recently. She had stretch marks and thighs that jiggled, and would be willing to sell him for a slice of the right cassata cake. Maybe you really will have to take up yoga. Who knows, maybe you’ll love it. Then again, he didn’t seem to care. “Now exhale.”

“My brother told him that if we work things out, you would be permanent.”

Her own breath hitched at his words. She didn’t know what to say. You’re supposed to agree. Validate that you’re not going anywhere, because this is all you wanted for so long before everything fell apart. “No evidence of a rib fracture. Just a deep bruise. That’s a relief.”

“Grayson knows me better than I know myself. So if he thinks this is permanent . . .”

She leaned forward, placing a kiss to the center of his chest, letting her lips follow the same path her fingers had just traced. She would never be good with words. She was good at intubation and performing cricothyrotomies, and she was certain that wasn’t the same as being able to come up with poetic words of validation in the moment, but she could kiss him. Over his ribs, down his side, a straight line up the center of his torso, kissing over his sternum until she had reached the base of his throat. She didn’t know what to say, but maybe she didn’t need to use her words just then.

When Trapp bucked his hips just enough to throw her forward, she squeaked in surprise, her hands scrabbling for purchase against him, allowing him to take over and capture her lips.

She had daydreamed about a nonexistent future with him for so long, so long ago. She was still able to see the outline of that daydream, like looking through a rainsoaked window to the past, but she wondered, as her legs dropped to either side of him, straddling his body as he pulled her shirt up and over her head, if the distance and separate lives had been necessary. She had been singularly focused back then. She still made no apology for it. She hadn’t lied — she’d had an opportunity to change her fate, and it wasn’t to be squandered. She had only ever felt inadequate with him then, even as she was pining for him.

Now, she was someone with a goose on her porch. Someone who’d had an entire career completely on her own, had lived what felt like several lifetimes in the emergency department, had battled chief residents and hospital administrators and surgeons who all had Trapp’s upbringing — and she’d done it on her own. She had a basket of blankets, a job with stable hours, and she lived in this nice town, and she’d done that on her own, as well. Perhaps she was finally someone who could be in a relationship with him. This is better than your daydream. You’re starting on even footing, and you don’t have to wonder what he wants.

His fingers had moved beneath the edge of her panties, stroking her steadily, catching her clit between his scraped knuckles. That he probably scraped on someone’s teeth, defending you. She didn’t like violence and wouldn’t encourage it, but she moaned against his mouth at the very thought. And now he’s wearing entirely too many clothes.

There was a reason being called a pack bitch was more than a common vulgarity. Everyone knew what packs were like — regardless of the were type, packs operated on a basis of coercion and control, a patriarchal hierarchy that put their menfolk at the top, leaving the women as pawns. More than that, though, pack living meant those first heats were fraught. No one stayed a virgin for long after the first heat hit, and suppressants were a lifeline. Without them, “I’m just helping you through your heat,” could be said by just about anyone, and it would be accepted. Pack girls often had sexual experiences earlier than their non-pack counterparts, and it was automatically expected by a certain type of asshole that they would be game for anything.

She’d not been immune to heat desperation and bad judgment as a teen, but she’d also been bookish and shy, and she didn’t have the experience most pack girls boasted. The wolf he’d hit likely would have been disappointed with her for all his trouble.

“I forgot,” he groaned, catching her nipple with his teeth once she’d stripped him entirely and kicked off her panties. “We have to go to lunch today.”

His erection was flush to his stomach, and Adriana rocked herself against it as his hands moved over her. Back and forth, the thick girth of it trapped between the lips of her sex, bumping her clit and making her shiver. With no heat rippling through her, the size of him made her stomach tremble.

“With my family. But it’ll be fine.”

She froze. “Your what? Trapp!”

Before she could move, he was pushing himself up from the mattress, supported on the tips of his fingers, meeting her lips once more.

“I promise, it’ll be fine. All of my brothers are in town, and seeing my mom is a nonnegotiable. They’ll all like you. Honestly, even if they didn’t, there are too many of us for it to matter. But I know you’ll be fine.”

He dropped back to the pillow, lacing his fingers with hers, rolling his hips upward, encouraging her to move again.