PLAY OF PASSION

Biting lightly at his ear, she rubbed the now bare heel of one foot over his buttocks, enjoying having him all to herself.

For a while, they just lay there, soaking in each other’s scents. When Drew did move, it was only so he could spoon her body with his. “Indy?”

Catching the oddly solemn note in his voice, she ran her hand over the arm she was using as a pillow. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry.” It was a stark statement. “I shouldn’t have done what I did in front of the others. I won’t do it again, no matter how hard I have to fight my wolf.”

She didn’t brush off the apology this time. Because it was important. Not simply what he’d said—but that he’d said it after she’d already come back to him. “You were right about something, too,” she said, opening herself up in a way she’d never done for any other man. “You might be younger, but you are very much a dominant male. I’m sorry if I made you feel—”

“Hush.” A kiss on her neck. “We’re good.”

God, he was so generous, he’d spoil her terribly if she let him. “No,” she said, “let me finish. This mule-headed woman might not say it again.”

A husky chuckle, but he didn’t interrupt her this time.

“In spite of what I told myself, I’ve been burying my head in the sand about you,” she said with brutal honesty, “because it was easier to deal with this thing between us if I stripped you down to just the younger, less dominant male.” So long as he was that, she could justify maintaining a subtle emotional distance under the masquerade of caution. “I won’t be doing that again. I’m going to learn to deal with you exactly as you are.” And that man, she thought, was more than a match for her wolf.

He ran a hand over her hip, the touch warm and affectionate. “You know this means I get a free pass on certain actions that are likely to drive you insane.” Light words, and yet there was a grain of truth in them.

Stroking his arm, able to feel the caress of the crisp hairs beneath her palm, she said, “No free pass. I’ll get mad. I might even yell.”

He hugged her closer to him. “That I can take. Hell, I like arguing with you.” A kiss on the curve of her shoulder. “But I won’t let you put up those walls of ice between us again, Indy. Fair warning.”

“What do you mean ‘let me’?” she asked in a tone that she knew was disgruntled. “You call bombarding me with roses, kisses, and adorable soft toys ‘letting me’? I’m not even going to mention my cell phone or the closet.”

A chuckle. “Yes—now imagine how much worse I can get.”

Unable to resist smiling, she shook her head. “You’ll probably come up against the ice walls again in the future,” she said, knowing herself. “But you have full permission to do your worst.”

His laughter was warm and open. “Snuggle closer to me.”

“I can’t get any closer.” But she pressed deeper into him, her wolf still sprawled out in abandon inside of her from their recent loving. Andrew Kincaid, she thought sleepily as Drew continued to run his hand over her hip, his breath steady against her hair, had some serious moves.

He also had an endless supply of energy.

She woke in darkness to his nibbling kiss along the line of her neck, his fingers playing between her thighs. Melting, she pulled his head down for a kiss. When he lifted up her leg and slid into her, it made her nerve endings sizzle with delight.

It was a lazy loving this time, Drew rocking her to a long, deep orgasm before coming in a pulse of heat inside her.

Andrew knew he had a smug arrogance to his step when he walked back into the den with Indigo by his side, but he couldn’t help it. He was so damn happy, the joy bubbled through his veins. Even when Indigo gave him a scowling look that said “behave,” all he wanted to do was grin and shout to the world that she was his.

And he was keeping her, mating dance or no mating dance.

“What’re you doing today, Lieutenant?” he asked after they’d gotten changed.

“I’m going to check up on Silvia.”

Andrew had looked in on the girl the previous day, happy to see that she was conscious and well on the road to recovery. “I’ll come with you. Lara’s certain now that she won’t have any long-term injuries.”

“Damn lucky, given the height she fell from.” Wrapping an arm around his waist, she said, “Did the cats’ little healers have anything to do with it?”

Andrew shook his head, curving his own arm around her shoulders. The “little healers” were two very gifted children—whose talents DarkRiver had only divulged to a tight group in SnowDancer because the kids often came to play with their friends in the den, and the wolves needed to know to keep them away from the infirmary. “Everyone’s in agreement that those two need their childhood,” he said. “I think the cats have decided to put them off-limits until they turn eighteen.”