221 Caine: Sneaking In
221 Caine: Sneaking In
I’d love to, but if I start down that road, I might end up being the horny, rutting beast I just told myself I’m not.
Her eyes flicker. “You’re already here,” she says evasively.
Sneaking through the dark hall of her camper is starting to become a habit. Sneaking through the dark hall of her can
“I have a key.”
Yes, but I suggested marking her, not creeping around and stealing her pillows.
“I’m leaving,” I hiss, tired of his constant prattling.
“Do you want to look at the stars?” I ask, unsurprised to see her blinking owlishly at me again.
Brilliant. He has his uses.
Tempting.
“The kids will be happy to see you in the morning. And it’s safer if you’re here.”
“You can stay, if you want.”
Tell her you missed her.
“I couldn’t sleep and wanted to make sure everything was okay here.”
Sara and Bun are fast asleep, cuddled on either side of Grace. The fan’s on, blowing strands of golden hair across her nose, and yet the woman’s oblivious.
I’d been so distracted with my own imagination I hadn’t heard her getting out of bed.
“What are you doing in here?” she asks, her voice so tiny my enhanced hearing barely catches her words.
“Yes. I mean, no.” Damn it. “I’ll/go.”
Damn him and his good points. I scrub a hand over my scruffy cheeks and inhale deeply, soaking in her blueberry muffin scent and consoling myself it’s better than not smelling it at all. 2
221 Caine: Sneaking In
“Oh, right.” She crosses her arms over her chest and leans a little harder against the wall, blinking her big green eyes at me and doing absolutely nothing to get my erection to stop erecting. “Are you planning to make this a habit?”
Shut
up,
Fenris.
But that would be terrible.
I pause, still awkwardly clasping a pillow over my dick and hoping she doesn’t ask me why I’m carrying one.
My fingers twitch at my sides, the urge to step further into the room nearly overwhelming.
It isn’t like I haven’t thought about it, but stealing her pillow somehow seemed a little less creepy at the time I made my plan.
This has gone too far. My need for her has crossed from inconvenient to unhinged. While not abnormal in a mating bond, Grace has a slightly different view of boundaries, and I’m supposed to be respecting her needs.
I have exactly zero good explanations for why I’m in her camper at three in the morning with a pillow under my arm and a growing hard–on in my pants.
Such loyalty from the other part of my soul.
1
The mental image of Grace’s neck marked by me sends a welcome rush of heat through my body, but I force it away quickly. She’s not ready for it yet, and I’ve already pushed her into too much intimate contact. She needs to recuperate without me
pawing at her like a horny, rutting beast.
Every step away from her bedroom makes the ache in my chest grow heavier, among other things.
This is pathetic even for you, Fenris agrees. The mighty king reduced to stealing pillows. How the legends will sing of this heroic quest. 3
You know, you could just sleep here and stop torturing yourself.
If she catches you, I was never here.
3
“Then I’ll stay.”
221 Caine: Sneaking in
Grace tilts her head slightly, studying me with sleep–soft eyes, even as her eyebrows go up quizzically. “So you decided to break in?”
Sighing, I turn away from the doorway, forcing myself to retreat. Tomorrow I’ll come back when she’s awake, explain how important scent is to a mate, and arrange a more normal, consensual pillow swap instead of sneaking in like a thief.
I turn, then remember the pillow and my hard–on and freeze, craning my neck over my shoulder again. “Are you sure?”
“Rich coming from you,” I retort, still mindful of keeping my voice low to avoid waking the children. “You’ve been trying to get me to claim her since the day we met her.
Put that way, it sounds even worse.
At first, her presence and touch soothed me, its effects long–lasting. And now it feels like I need to see her every hour just to keep calm.
Without thinking, I place the pillow over my crotch and turn away to awkwardly look at her over my shoulder. 1
Not a great one, either.
After standing there for five full minutes breathing like a stalker.
My entire body freezes. Grace’s voice, heavy with sleep but unmistakably alert, sends heat straight through my veins. I turn slowly, finding her silhouette in the hallway, one hand braced against the wall for support.
My original plan–swapping out the unused pillow under my arm for one carrying Grace’s scent–suddenly seems not just desperate but genuinely disturbing. What would she think if she woke to find me looming over her bed?
What the fuck am I doing here, lurking in the darkness like some kind of deranged stalker because I can’t sleep without her goddamn scent?
She doesn’t say she wants me here, but she doesn’t have to. The invitation itself is enough to ease the knot in my chest, even though I’m now struggling with the idea of sneaking Bun and Sara out of her bed and taking over it myself.
Have you considered explaining it to her?
“Caine.”
**221 Caine: Sneaking in
That lie feels too transparent.
Say yes.
If you just explain, I’m sure she’ll be happy to send her pillows to you. Grace is very understanding.
Her hair is tousled from sleep, her oversized t–shirt sliding off one shoulder. Even in the dim light, I can see the confusion in her eyes, the wariness in her posture.
You’re whipped.
And send her into a panic? No..
You could just ask her for a shirt like a normal person.
Tell her you sensed danger?
Of course I want to, but I don’t have permission. And for some reason, Grace seems less than pleased with how I’ve been handling things. 1
Tell her you were making sure she was safe.
“…Caine?”
Oh, no. Say no, Grace. He has ulterior motives. 2
I sneak another deep inhale as I step out of her room.
Gritting my teeth against his brazenly perfidious nature, I manage to avoid creaking or shaking the RV as I sneak my way into the master bedroom.
And it wouldn’t even be the first time.
CAINE
I take a step back.
Awful.
Not helping.
I turn toward the door, swallowing down the bitter taste of rejection before it’s even
offered.
221 Caine: Sneaking In
It’s how she always does things when she doesn’t want to be too forward, pushing the responsibility on me and acting passive. I don’t mind; it’s rather cute.
Fenris sounds sour from his place beneath the RV, where he’s been keeping watch since Dylan and Randy left after the children were put to bed. He was less than enthused with my idea, but at least he isn’t getting in my way.
Just take what you came for and go. Or don’t. Either way, I’m not the one getting hit when she wakes up.
The scene’s so peaceful and perfect, it makes my little plot for a night of peace seem… dirty and mildly perverted.
You can always say you wanted to sleep here, Fenris points out.
“Shut up,” I growl under my breath.
66
*hee*
