Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“I understand now why I didn’t notice the realities of the village,” I said, peering through the trees. I half wondered if I’d see Alexander keeping pace with us. “I was also turning a blind eye to my own situation. Willful ignorance.”
I took a deep breath, slipping my hands under the hem of his shirt and sliding them along his torso.
“Enough about me. What about you?” I turned my head so that my chin was resting in the hollow between his shoulder blades. “I feel this overpowering urge to be with you, but I don’t know anything about you.” I traced the edges of his muscle. “How do you stay in such great shape?”
“I train with my pack constantly. The pack consists of more than just wolves. We have a lot of dragons that we work with, and they are incredibly powerful. I work hard to ensure we can form a cohesive unit.”
I circled one of his nipples with my pointer finger. “Do you like your nipples stimulated?”
He turned his head to the side and I could see his ear lifting with a smile. “Sometimes. Not as much as you do, I don’t think.”
“Hmm.” I pinched it a little and felt him shiver. “Maybe that’s something we should explore.”
“Maybe,” he whispered.
We hadn’t had sex since yesterday. Part of that was due to not having a tent. We’d had a bed, and even though he’d given me the option of sleeping alone, I’d chosen to have him beside me. We’d wrapped ourselves up in each other’s arms, but the rest of the pack was within sight. I wasn’t in the habit of putting on a show.
I resumed tracing his muscles, following the line of his bulging pec until it connected near his arm pit. On impulse, I tickled him.
He jumped and then twisted, letting out a gurgle of surprise and nearly knocking me off the horse in order to squirm away.
“Gods, don’t do that!” he said as I laughed, clutching onto him so that I didn’t fall. He chuckled, trying to get himself under control, out of breath. “Don’t do that.”
“You’re ticklish.”
“Isn’t everyone?”
“No.”
“You’re not ticklish?”
“No,” I repeated with a smile, and then tried tickling his sides.
He squirmed again, though not as out of control this time. He captured one of my hands with one of his and pressed my palm to his warm skin. “Seriously, stop!” His laughter was large and deep, his head thrown back. “I don’t want to throw you off the horse.”
I delighted in his unchecked mirth, his wide smile, so rare for this alpha. It felt good to bring it out of him, like I’d accomplished some great feat and received my prize.
“To be continued.” I flattened my palms to his sides.
“You’re not ticklish?” he asked again. I shook my head against his back in response. “Bullshit. You must be ticklish somewhere.”
“Mind over matter.”
“That doesn’t work with the bottom of a person’s feet. There is no mind control capable of cutting out how much that tickles.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “I can stop the effects of drugs. Tell me why I couldn’t stop the effects of someone tickling the bottom of my feet.”
“Different thing. Ticklish feet transcend the mind.”
My smile felt glued on. I settled my forehead between his shoulder blades again, back to tracing his muscles.
“How did you learn to do that, by the way?” he asked. “Cutting out the effect?”
“Are you sure you want yet another depressing story?”
“Lay it on me.”
“You asked for it.” I sighed. “I always try every batch of product. Drug, I guess—“
“Product. We’ll use drugs for what Granny has put out into the world.”
“She’s just altering what I give her, but sure. Anyway, one time the journey took a sharp left and before I knew it, I was reliving my mother’s death. Only this time, I was burning alive with her. In desperation, I . . . found my way out. I envisioned scrubbing my blood free of the chemicals and seeing clearly again. Somehow, it worked. From then on, my hobby was figuring out how to repeat what I’d done, and then getting good at it. Mind over matter.”
“That’s incredible. And you did that with Granny’s . . . altered product?”
“Yes, except I realized there is a very important distinction. My product is safe to take in multiple doses—that waxy stuff is not. I don’t think I am scrubbing the effects from my body, I’m ignoring the effects somehow. I must be, right? Because that waxy stuff did not go away. It hung around, and when I put more of that poison into my bloodstream, it took me down.”
My mind drifted in that direction again.
“What sort of poisonous effect would be so incredibly addictive?” I murmured. “I took another of Granny’s doses last night—“
“You did what?”
Weston’s sharp tone stopped me up short.