Ryatt
If there was one thing I was good at in life, it was fucking up. Fucking up my sister’s attempt at a love life. Fucking up the retrieving of our allies’ property. Fucking up my relationship with my soulmark. The robe Quinn has been using rests on a hook of the bathroom door. I snatch it and make my way over to my bed, flopping down upon it with a forlorn sigh. I bring the robe to my face and inhale. I also happened to be a master of being secretly pathetic. No doubt Xander would have been caught sneaking scents off Zoelle’s clothing pre-binding. But not I.
The scent of Quinn lingers in the room, but it is strongest in the things she wears on a daily basis. The wolf takes to it like some kind of calming sedative and happily relaxes at the back of my mind with her scent surrounding us.
The wolf had reached a level of pathetic I hadn’t known possible. It’s not been two weeks and it’s head over heels in love, while I’m left to try and keep our feelings separate. Mostly. Lust and love were two very different things, but with the way the wolf was projecting, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep the divide up. I inhale deeply once more, enjoying the scent of jasmine and citrus and Quinn.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I hesitate for a fraction of a second, my eyes flying open at the sound of her voice before I throw the robe down faster than humanly possible. “Nothing,” I smoothly deny, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. “You’re back.”
She eyes me warily, shuffling from foot to foot. “Obviously,” she finally scoffs, though I note it is half-hearted. I slowly get to my feet.
“And you’re talking to me.” She looks away uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Quinn, about the other day. Truly. I didn’t plan on that happening.” She doesn't carry the same tense weight about her. Her shoulders are no longer hunched. Hands unclenched. Scowl...still mostly intact. Regardless, it’s a welcome reprieve. Quinn remains silent. Gaze elsewhere. Mind whirling, no doubt. The wolf whines pathetically in the background of my mind, still distraught over her body language and reaction to the marking. It could not comprehend why she was so upset, but I did and was determined to give Quinn some distance. She deserved to make her own decisions, no matter how unpleasant the consequences may be for both of us.
“I’m still pissed at you,” she finally says, eyes caught on the window. “And I’m still definitely not okay with how any of this has played out, but…”
My breath catches as she swings her gaze my way. Her eyes are the most serene blue. Startling even from afar, if I could only be so lucky as to wash away the unease from them. I shove my hands in my pockets, dropping my regard to the floor submissively. The wolf had obviously been getting to me more than I realized.
“But I can’t undo it. I can’t change it, and I know that the marking probably wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t take your pants off,” she flushes with remorse. “I talked with a lot of witches today and was pretty thoroughly shot down. Time-travel is a big no-no, apparently. Plus they put on a little magic show for me. So that’s apparently a real thing. Witches.”
“A productive chat then,” I mutter under my breath. I chance a glance to see if she has heard my utterance but only a small scowl lines the features of her brow and lips.
“I’m not going to be in a relationship with you, Ryatt,” she tells me seriously. “I’m not a relationship kind of girl. I don’t do boyfriends. I barely do ‘friends,' but since we are apparently stuck together that’s what I can at least offer. Friendship.”
I can feel my eyes narrowing in on her as the wolf prowls steadily at the front of my mind. Mine, it softly chants. As if I didn’t know that already. “Friendship,” I roll the word around on my tongue, not particularly liking the taste of it. “Why? I think we can both agree we're quite good at being much more. We haven’t even explored all the things we might do—”
“Can we not go there?” She takes a deep breath, her heart racing though she maintains a neutral facade. “I spoke with Zoelle—” I let out a dramatic groan “—and she said she was able to with Xander. I don’t see why we shouldn’t give it a try.”
“One, their situation was completely different from ours. Zoelle had a significant other at the time, and my brother is a bully, as Alphas tend to be. Two, we’ve already had sex. I’ve felt you. I've been inside of you. That changes things—”
“No,” she says sternly, “it changes nothing. We can put what’s transpired between us in the past and move forward as friends. People can have sex and still just be friends. It's not impossible. Besides, it didn’t mean anything.”
“Like hell it didn’t,” I growl, the wolf echoing its displeasure with a snarl that almost bursts forth from my lips. “It was a fucking revelation. I marked you, and that means something. There’s no more ignoring it. No more ignoring us.” The wolf leaps to the forefront of my mind and I feel a streak of all-consuming possessiveness ram its way through me. Quinn swallows and stares me down determinedly. “Do you honestly believe we can be ‘just friends’ after all that’s happened?” I ask, deliberately keeping my calm. I take a step towards her and watch silently as she fumbles back.
“I won’t deny that whatever this fascination is between us will be difficult to ignore. In fact, the soulmark will make it more difficult, or so I’ve recently learned. Nevertheless, I think we can push past the awkwardness and find some kind of common ground—without all the touching.”
I mull over the words and find myself stuck on her comment about the soulmark. The soulmark didn’t make things more difficult. What exactly was she talking about? “If by fascination you mean attraction, you’re right. It will be most difficult to ignore. The soulmark,” a satisfied smile takes up residence on my face as I recall some minor details regarding its influence, “amplifies feelings that are already there. You like me.”
Her face flushes a telltale red, “It just means we already have a sort of rapport that isn’t exclusively derived from animosity.”
“You like me!” I crow, taking several steps forward. She peels out into the hallway; hands held up defensively as she glares at me from outside the door. “What are you doing?” I ask, watching in amusement as her skin shades an even brighter red.
“You’re not entirely loathsome,” Quinn bites out.
“Why are you out in the hallway?” I take a measured step forward and watch in befuddlement as she skirts backward. Again. “Why are you doing that?”
“I have to meet with your sister,” she says feebly. But feeble is a very un-Quinn thing to be.
“You’re lying.” A spike of indignant anger flares through the bond from her end. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Quinn hesitates, eyes darting around the room until they land back on the window, a long sigh drawing from her rosy lips. “Physical proximity increases the pull between us because we’ve already engaged in rather…intimate positions.”
I quirk a brow. “Are you referring to the fact that we've had sex, or was it the rather fantastic head you gave me? Or was it—”
“Yes. You ass,” she huffs. Her indignation turns to anger. “I’d prefer if we maintained a certain distance from one another to put a stop to that.”
I pull my hands from my pockets and cross them over my chest. The urge to move closer is almost irresistible with the wolf clawing and howling to drive me towards her. It’s her scent that holds me back. A mixture of fear and resentment, along with a healthy dose of what can only be shame. Space, I remind myself and the wolf sharply, she needed space.
“I don’t understand why you can’t just give me a chance,” I tell her softly. “There’s something between us. Something not even you can deny, even with all your carefully chosen words.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is,” I insist, shuffling forward a few steps. Her eyes flutter close for a second as she warily shakes her head.
“It’s not that easy, Ryatt. You’re asking me to dump my old life completely in order to live with a pack of wolves. Literally.”
“Would that really be so bad? No more stealing or putting yourself in compromising positions.”
“I like my compromising positions, thank you very much.”
“I'm sure I can think of a hundred compromising positions to put you in,” I promise, not bothering to hide the hunger in my voice. Quinn takes two steps back, minutely shaking her head. I sigh. “Why don’t you run along and find Irina? I’ve some work to do before the day’s end.”
She scampers away, her lips splitting into a cautious smile before leaving. In a few quick strides, I make it to the door and push it gently closed.
That was progress, right? Acknowledgement.
I would just have to find a way to capitalize on her confession before we completed the heist. Only time was not on my side. My feet steer me back towards the bed, and I pick up her robe once more, holding it against my nose. Her scent calms me and the wolf. Lulling it into a state of tranquility so that I can have some peace of mind and think without its commentary. I needed a plan. A way to prove my case with her. Show her that we could be so much more together than we could ever be apart. I grin as I inhale her scent once more. I had just the idea.
+++
Quinn
It had been a long day. Between the witches, Ryatt, and being roped into helping Irina plan some party, I barely had time to collect the rest of the information I needed from Big Bear and my other contacts. This shower was just what I needed.
The hot water shot straight between my shoulder blades, its persistent stream easing the tension away. The nozzle was turned almost fully to the left, delivering an almost unbearable heat, but God did it feel good. My eyes open lazily to see that the steamy fog, once relegated to the shower stall, has ventured to envelop the entirety of the bathroom. To any other, the room might be mistaken for a sauna. My hands grope along the wall until they find the soap and loofah, then jasmine and orange blossom fill the air.
I can’t remember the last time I have felt so relaxed. I make sure to drench the loofah in soap to achieve maximum lather before tracing it over my front. Across the shoulders and down my chest. Lower past my stomach to swirl around my navel, then a quick swipe down both legs, before repeating the process.
I’m not quite sure when the other set of hands comes into play, but they do not frighten me as I would have expected them to. My hair is smoothed over one shoulder, and lips press themselves against the nape of my neck. I gasp. A sudden passion and bliss engulf my senses before slipping away just as suddenly as it came.
“You’ve been in here for ages,” Ryatt teases, lips barely skimming over the surface over my over-sensitized skin.
I let out a small hum of acknowledgment, taking a moment to catch my breath. “Women have more to do in the shower. I shampoo and condition. I shave.”
“Lather, rinse, and repeat?”
“Exactly,” I tell him with a Cheshire cat smile and lean back into him. He gently pries the loofah from my grip.
“Well then, let me help you finish so that you can come back to bed.” I receive a small nip of admonishment on my neck. His tongue darts outwards to catch the droplets at rest there.
The loofah drags down my spine, fingertips following in its wake. I let out a breathy sigh, back arching delicately as the loofah is dropped to the floor and hands take up the task. They spread the lather. Taking their time to give attention to every inch they meet. His fingers rubbing out the knots and kinks that lie between my shoulders. Ryatt's hands stop low on my waist, thumbs digging inwards in small circles.
“I’m glad you decided to give me a chance, Quinn,” he whispers, nuzzling his head against mine with a pleased exhalation. “You won’t regret it. I’ll make every day a new adventure for us. Show you pleasures you’ve never experienced before.”
My focus falters even as I slip deeper into his touch. Is that how my day had ended? I couldn’t quite remember the exact conversation, but it explained why I no longer felt the heavy weight of indecision in my heart. One hand slips around to my stomach, fingers flaring to touch as much skin as possible. I shudder a sigh.
“But don’t think I’ve forgotten about your punishment, Quinn,” he purrs in my ear, pulling me back till I’m flush with his chest. The hand around my middle tightens minutely as the other trails to my ass. I feel my heart give a sudden lurch, nipples hardening in excitement and anticipation. “It seems you haven’t either,” he breathes harshly into my ear. A second later a sharp slap is delivered to my ass. I gasp at the stinging sensation, body flooding with need so strong I tremble.
Ryatt's breath skates over my soulmark in steady exhalations, which only drives my need further. His body shifts to the right, hand caressing the abused cheek before pulling back. My breath stalls. A crack resounds in the shower followed swiftly by my lust-filled cry. Once more his hand soothes the ache it creates, fingers slipping lower.
"Ryatt," I whimper, pushing back into his hand wantonly. He groans, his length digging into my side.
"As much as I would love to finish this," he tells me, lips coming to brush along my ear, "now is not the time or place, little lamb.” He shushes me as I release a desperate whine, then he drops to a knee behind me.
The loofah is back in his possession, making slow circles across my calves, the heat of his breath fanning across my inner thighs. A short moan of appreciation slips past my guard as he pursues my thighs with the soapy sponge.
“What is it the time and place for?” I murmur, hand reaching out to the wall to steady myself. Once more he casts aside the loofah in favor of his hands, rubbing the soap into my heated flesh, the water making quick work of what suds stay behind.
“Love,” he whispers, his voice taking on an almost faraway quality.
“Love?” I whisper back. The word strikes me with a painful jolt, bringing with it a startling dose of reality. I didn't recall any talks regarding love. Love was…love was out of the equation for me. I didn’t need it. I didn’t need…Ryatt's fingers dance along the apex of my thigh. Caressing and gliding over the slick flesh but never quite touching where it’s needed.
“Stop thinking,” he tells me, running his lips up and over my ass to the small of my back. “Just feel.”
Feel? Feel what? A strange nervousness settles in my stomach, the outskirts of my vision vibrating. Love? I gulp down the thick air. Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe? My hands reach desperately along the wall to turn the shower off and end our encounter to find some clarity. They find nothing but cool tile. That's not right, I think.
“Quinn,” Ryatt growls, suddenly in front of me, hands cupping my face. His blue eyes sucking me in effortlessly. There is a summer storm raging in their depths. “Just feel,” he begs, tilting his forehead to rest against mine. The bond between us pulses with something almost otherworldly. It is warmth and sweetness, security and wicked promises all wrapped up in one.
“Please stop,” I whimper, unused to such foreign feelings.
“Let me in. Let me love you.” My head twists from side to side fretfully, tearing out of his mild hold. I wasn’t meant for love. I wasn’t good enough for love. My past had proven it to me over and over again. “Please.” I stumble backward, feet slipping out from under me in my haste. There are no hands to catch me as I fall. The elusive pillars of steam slip through my hands until I—
—lurch upwards from my bed panting.
My eyes are wide and frightened as they dart across the dark bedroom. I can feel sweat beading on my forehead and the back of my neck along my hairline. My pajamas are soaked through. Dear God, what was that? And why had it felt so real? Still the bond pulses, even though Ryatt is rooms away. I whimper as the fragments of the dream slip from my grasp, leaving me only more confused. There would be no more sleeping for me tonight.