by Debra Dunbar
Yep. Shot down. At least it was now and not after he’d groped her or tried to kiss her or something. This way he could always claim misunderstanding.
And he was tired. And in pain. Although he was pretty sure he’d rally if she wanted to get naked under the covers with him.
Gwylla finished her food, leaving the lemon untouched and he followed her back inside.
“You look like you’re ready to fall over. Go to sleep. I’m going to get a shower after I wash this plate,” she told him.
And there went his last chance at getting in her pants tonight. With a sigh, he bid her goodnight and headed to one of the bedrooms that did not have Mark and Brenda’s scent all over it. It was clearly a guest room, with a patchwork comforter and a little desk in the corner of the room. He pulled the sheets aside, and was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Chapter 13
Dustin woke up with a naked woman in his arms.
In his defense, the bed wasn’t very large. It was what would have been called a full-size, which should have been adequate for two people who were accustomed to some intimacy. The bed size didn’t excuse the fact that he was spooning Gwylla, her ass pressed against one of the hardest erections he’d ever woken up to.
Her blonde hair was across his face, tickling his chest and arm. It smelled like vanilla and brown sugar and was still slightly damp from her shower. Her skin was like silk against his, her small body contouring perfectly to his shape. She was slight, thin, but soft in all the right places.
Soft. Oh sweet mother of pearl, his hand was cupping her breast. Wow. This was…awkward. And kind of awesome. Both. At the same time.
What was she doing in his bed? Oh, yeah. There were two bedrooms in this cabin, and it wasn’t like she’d want to sleep on the couch or in Mark and Brenda’s bed. He could completely understand that, but naked? Why was she naked? He’d coopted a pair of Mark’s pajama pants. Why hadn’t she borrowed something of Brenda’s? Unless Brenda didn’t have any pajamas. Maybe the werewolf was the kind who slept naked. Still, she probably had some oversized T-shirts that Gwylla could have borrowed to sleep in. Every woman had oversized T-shirts, didn’t they?
But no. The sidhe woman had climbed into bed with him, stark naked, then proceeded to cuddle up against him. Although to be fair, she might have cuddled up in her sleep. He’d certainly been asleep when he’d grabbed hold of her breast.
Should he move? All the scenarios ran through his head. Gwylla could hardly be angry at him for their compromising position, not when she was naked in bed with him. But still…Iti would be mortifying if he was found groping her and trying to poke into her ass with his dick. He didn’t want to be that pervy guy who felt up a sleeping woman when he wasn’t sure she wanted to be felt up.
But she’d teased him last night, saying she’d done the same to him. Maybe she wouldn’t be upset. Maybe she was expecting him to make a move. While he was thinking this through, he absentmindedly brushed his fingers against her taut nipple. She sighed, squirming her butt against him.
And now he could pound nails with his cock. Great. He was torn, uncertain whether he wanted her to wake up or not. Not. It was all too embarrassing. Carefully he pulled his hand away and scooted backward until he could safely ease off the bed. Then he ran for the shower.
Gwylla had slept like an oak in winter from the moment her head hit the pillow until the sunlight came through the window and touched her face. This bed was comfortable, and she had the vague memory of how warm Dustin had been curled up against her.
It was nice having someone to sleep next to her. His arm around her made her feel safe, which was ridiculous given her abilities.
She liked him. Really liked him. He was goofy and sometimes shy. He’d never asked anything of her. He’d been alarmed when she’d told him she’d bonded to him to save his life. If that had ever happened with Talligie, the elf would have immediately thought of some way to use that connection to his advantage.
Dustin was so different than Talligie. He was different than any of the sidhe or elves she’d met. She never tired of being with him. She could converse with him all day and still long for his presence. He made her laugh. And he made her feel things she probably shouldn’t feel for a wolf-man.
Crawling out of bed, she stretched, then put on her clothes. She’d cleaned them in her own way since she had no idea how to work the machines, even if they hadn’t been made of metal. She’d barely managed to figure out their plumbing system last night to take a bath, using the wash cloths to guard her hands against the metal. But oh, how that bath had felt good. And the female werewolf who lived here had some very nice smelling hair and skin products.
That poor woman. After her shower, she’d been undecided about what to do. There was no way she could wear a dead woman’s clothes, even just to sleep in. It was one thing for Dustin to borrow their clothing. He’d known them. She hadn’t. It would be disrespectful. She’d stood over the dresser full of pretty clothing and felt ill at the thought of putting any of it on. The same with the other bed which clearly had been used by the two werewolves. It had been their bed, used for sleep and lovemaking. She couldn’t desecrate that space.
Which left the couch, which did actually look rather comfortable, or the other bed where Dustin lay half-naked, his warm body sprawled across the mattress, the sheets tangled around his legs.
It hadn’t been a difficult decision, although she did feel that sleeping naked next to the werewolf was probably pushing things a bit. She wouldn’t have been surprised to wake up to him sniffing her hair or awkwardly trying to hide an erection. But she’d woken up alone, and from the sounds in the other room, Dustin was taking a shower.
Hadn’t he cleaned himself last night before bed? Were werewolves so fastidious that they preferred to shower twice each day? Whatever his cleanliness needs, he seemed to be taking an inordinately long time about it.
The shower shut off and a few minutes later Dustin appeared, a towel wrapped around his waist. Another was in his hands as he rubbed his hair dry.
“Oh. Hi.” He stopped in the doorway, flushing as he saw her. His hair was standing up all spiked on the top of his head. It made Gwylla want to smooth it down.
“Hi, did you sleep well?”
“Uh. Yeah. Okay, I guess.”
Why was he so flustered? After her earlier thoughts of their easy way of conversing this was the most awkward few sentences they’d ever exchanged.
She got up to leave, and he put out a hand. “Wait. Um, I have a question.” He shuffled his feet while she waited. “Why…why were you naked in bed with me this morning?”
Was that wrong? She’d thought maybe she was pushing it a bit, but why was he so disturbed by it all? “Because I slept there. Should I have slept on the couch instead? Or in your murdered friends’ bed?”
He winced. “No. No, I meant…why were you naked? You could have borrowed something of Brenda’s to wear.”
He didn’t like her naked? That hurt, but she made a note of it for future reference. Teasing was okay as was sexual innuendo, but naked was not.
“Because her sleeping clothes looked very uncomfortable.” And she hadn’t wanted to wear a dead woman’s clothes, but as Dustin was wearing the other wolf-man’s clothes, he probably wouldn’t think that an adequate reason.
He frowned at her. “What do you mean, uncomfortable?”
“I’ll show you.” She pushed past him and went into the other bedroom, returning with a few of the items which she held up and showed to him. “I don’t understand how anyone could sleep in these. I’m not even sure I know how to put it on properly.”
He stared at the narrow pieces of scratchy lace in horror. “Oh, God. That’s more than I ever wanted to know about Brenda and Mark.”
“I mean, do they go like this?” She held a piece up over her breasts and stretched the other down to between her legs. “Or like this?”
“I don’t…I’m not sure even I know. Can you just put those away
and go in the other room or something?”
She gathered the lace back into her hand. “Sure. Are you coming?”
“Yes. No. I’m going to get dressed.” He darted out of the room, leaving her to stare after him. Strange wolf-man. Rather than wait for him, she went into the kitchen and looked around for something suitable for breakfast.
Dustin hadn’t been kidding about the contents of the refrigerator. Bacon. Sausage. Steak. Eggs. A block of cheese that was so large it could double as a weapon. There was a little container of diced peppers, tomatoes and onions that she pulled out, along with a bag of sweet potatoes. And luckily the werewolves’ dislike for vegetables didn’t extend to grain products. Two loaves of bread and a package of tortillas. She could work with this. She could definitely work with this.
By the time Dustin walked in breakfast was almost done. He was wearing a pair of jeans that were a bit loose on him, and a blue T-shirt that was not loose on him. He’d shaved the fuzz from his cheeks and chin, and smelled like sandalwood and pine. Mmmm.
The werewolf sniffed then went to look in the pan. His face fell.
“Oh. That looks…good.”
She bit back a smile. “I believe you would call it a hash. We can roll it up in the tortillas.”
“Can I add some sausage to that tortilla? And bacon?”
He sounded so hopeful. Her stomach turned at the thought but she took a deep breath and tried not to think about it. “Can you wait until I have mine so I can go out on the porch? I don’t like the smell of cooking meat.”
He pulled the sausage from the fridge. “Sure. It’s already cooked, so I can just microwave it. Is it okay if I join you on the porch when I’m done cooking it? We can eat together.”
Yuck. Just yuck. But if she had any hope of spending time with this werewolf, she’d need to get used to his eating habits. “Yes, I’d like that. If you joined me, I mean.”
He set the sausage on the counter and filled up a glass container with water from the sink, pouring it into a plastic device. Then he scooped some fragrant ground-up brown stuff into a paper cup and stuck it in another part of the plastic device. Before she’d removed the hash from the stove, there was brown liquid pouring in a steady stream into the glass container.
“How do you like your coffee? There’s some non-dairy creamer in here. And sugar. I don’t trust that the milk hasn’t gone bad from the date on the carton, so it’s fake or we drink it black.”
Was she expected to drink that brown stuff? She’d turned up her nose at the meat last night, it seemed rude to refuse to try this. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I’ve never had coffee before.”
He stared at her in astonishment. “We’ll try a few things and see what you like then. Here. Read the ingredients on this and let me know if it’s okay for you to eat it. Or drink it.”
She took the container and read the back. “I don’t know what these things are. I will drink milk, but what is Dipotassium Phosphate? Or Silicon Dioxide?”
He took it from her. “I don’t know what they are either. Let’s nix this and try something else.”
He didn’t know? Werewolves ate things when they had no idea what was in them? It seemed rather risky, but perhaps they had an innate sense of what was healthy for their bodies and what wasn’t.
“Yes!” Dustin turned from the freezer and showed her a container. “This! Brenda is probably the only werewolf in the state that has coconut milk ice cream in her freezer, and there are no things-I-can’t-pronounce on the ingredient list. You’re going to have iced coffee. And you’re going to love it.”
She hoped so because it would be terribly embarrassing to spit the drink out all over the porch.
“I’m looking forward to it.” She handed him a plate with his hash on a tortilla. “I’ll be on the front porch when you’re ready.”
It was a bit chilly still outside, but the view was lovely with the mountains, the lake, the wildflowers swaying in the breeze. She could see the outlines of her wards, and was relieved they were intact and undisturbed. A human, or anyone else, would have set off the alarm by crossing them, but she’d worried if it were Talligie who’d come, he’d be able to disarm them without triggering the alarms.
But he wouldn’t come. Not yet, anyway. Hopefully all they had to fear right now was humans who were hunting werewolves, or looking for Dustin in particular. But once Talligie realized she was here, once he knew she was out in the open, not hidden in a sanctuary, then he’d come. And when he did, she needed to make sure Dustin was safe, and that she was far enough away he’d not be hurt.
Talligie would hurt him. Talligie would kill him. Not just because of jealousy. The elf would be jealous of her wasting her power on another, but that was all, and there wasn’t much power she could grant a werewolf. No, Talligie would kill Dustin because it would hurt her. It would give the elf more power over her. And more importantly, it would give him revenge. It would be his punishment for her leaving him.
She needed Dustin to be safe. She’d vowed it when she saved his life, but there was more to it than just the vow.
The werewolf walked out on the porch. His wonderful breakfast tainted with the smell of meat. She ignored it, smiling at him instead. And ignoring it got a whole lot easier when he shoved a mug into her hand.
The drink was…pungent. It certainly overpowered the meat smell, and for that she was grateful. It was the color of a muddy river that had stirred up a chalky limestone bed. It smelled sweet and bitter and nutty.
And Dustin was staring at her. Expectantly. She lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip, careful to control her expression.
It wasn’t terrible. She gave Dustin a smile that was probably more of a grimace and took another sip.
“Too sweet? Not sweet enough?” he asked, sitting down in the rocker next to her.
“It’s sweeter than I’m used to, but there’s something really bitter that the sweetness isn’t quite managing to cover up. I’m not sure I’d find it tolerable without the sugar.”
His face fell. And Gwylla felt horrible.
“Maybe it’s an acquired taste.” She took another sip, just to prove that she was attempting to acquire this taste. “How is your breakfast?”
He took a bite. “Love it. I’ve never had this with sweet potatoes before, and with the spices and everything, it’s really good.”
“Would you like it just as well without the sausage?”
He took another bite, considering the idea. “I don’t think I’d like it as well, but I’d like it. It would be good plain, but for me, the sausage makes it perfect.”
Well, at least it wasn’t horrible and the sausage wasn’t the only thing bearable about it. Gwylla drank more of the coffee, and thought. He’d seemed to like the stews she’d made at her sanctuary, but that had been when he was injured and most likely so hungry he would have eaten a table leg. But at her home, he’d need to eat what she cooked, because there was no way she would ever allow meat into her home. And she hoped he’d come back to visit her, maybe stay for a while. Gwylla was under no illusions that she’d be happy living long-term among the werewolves in Dustin’s home. Not that he’d asked her. Although if he did, she would try it for short stretches of time to see if she could manage it. Hopefully he’d find her effort proof that she did like his company.
Of course if she wanted to even visit him wherever the werewolf lived, she’d need to take care of Talligie. She couldn’t have the elf track her to Dustin’s home. She couldn’t have him know she cared about others, put them in his path, risk their lives. No, she’d need to make sure Talligie couldn’t track her, couldn’t hurt those who were her friends. And to do that she’d need to kill him.
Could she do that? She’d once thought she loved the elf. Could she kill him? Glancing over at Dustin she remembered his wounds, remembered finding him near death in his wolf form at her heart-tree. Yes, she could. She could kill Talligie. She just needed to do it in a place where others wouldn’t be killed in the p
rocess.
“There’s something I want to do before we head out today.” Dustin eyed her uncertainly. She got the feeling this wasn’t something she was going to enjoy.
“Does it involve the meat in the refrigerator?”
“No, it involves metal. We need to find out what metal you have a problem with and what is okay for you to touch. I can’t believe you’re sensitive to all metals.”
This was a bad idea. She instinctively reached up and touched the still-healing wound on her shoulder.
“Legend says fae can’t touch iron, but from my D&D days, I remember having some lively arguments about whether that included steel or alloys. I used a plastic knife to cut your food last night just to be safe, but it would help you to navigate this world better if you knew exactly what was going to be a problem and what wasn’t.”
“When we crossed the gates, an elf with us touched one of your transportation devices, and his hand blistered. It took him days to heal. I decided it was best to avoid all metal.”
“Okay, so that was a car, and it was probably steel, although a lot of cars have aluminum, plastic, and carbon fiber components. We also need to find out how close you can get to them. Can you stand inside an elevator, or a building with steel beams as a structural component, or will it bother you being near them?”
She thought for a moment. “I’m fine in this house, and I’m certain there is iron and steel here. When I used the bath, I covered my hand to touch the shiny faucets, just to be safe.”
“It could be that you’re fine with steel and it’s just an elf thing and not a sidhe thing,” Dustin mused.
“But the bullets? They are steel, are they not? And that gunshot wound still hurts and has not healed properly. That makes me believe I cannot touch steel.”
He frowned in thought. “Touch it or have it touch an open wound? Because that would be the difference between you being able to ride in a car and not.”
