“But it doesn’t…”
I trail off when a happy grin suddenly spreads across his face.
“What?” I ask. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“Your eyes have not fallen from mine since we stopped our kiss.”
And…cue the shoulder stare. “That’s because I’m trying to convince you—”
But he tips my chin up, once again forcing me to meet his eyes. “The kiss was good, Varra. Your wolf knows what your human would deny.”
This time when I look away, he follows me with his head, bending to get in the way of my runaway eyes as he declares, “You are our she-wolf, and I am your fenrir.”
He kisses me again, and shit…is it supposed to feel like fireworks are going off inside your heart when that happens? Because when he kisses me, I can barely think, much less try to explain that just because I’m emotionally stunted and can’t figure out how not to kiss him back, it doesn’t mean this mating thing is going to happen.
I can’t think, can’t speak, but apparently I can still move, because this time when FJ stops, breathing hard against my mouth, somehow my hands are in his beard again.
Dammit! I think, dropping them to lie awkwardly on his shoulders.
But I can feel him smiling against my lips as he says, “Yes, that was a very good petting, Varra. I would return the favor, but I think you unready.”
“Wow…did your mom warn you about touching a black woman’s hair unless you really know her—and ask permission first?”#p#分页标题#e#
A moment of confusion, then he leans back with a belly laugh.
“Oh, you do charm me with your strange words and stranger mind. But nay, never has my mother issued such warning to me.”
“Oh,” I say feeling silly…then confused. “But then why would you think I’m not ready to be petted?”
His eyes twinkle with dark amusement. “It is not the hair above thy waist I am interested in petting, Varra.”
Oh…Oh.
And that’s when I realize we’re in total eye contact mode again.
I shift, look away, and tell his shoulder, “Well, that’s not going to happen. Seriously. It’s not.”
“No, it won’t,” he agrees. “Because you are not yet ready. My father’s gods know I would wish it otherwise, but I am a patient male and my brother says your time comes near. I will wait until both you and your wolf are ready to receive my petting.”
That proclaimed, he takes a deep breath through his nose and pulls me out of his lap, setting me away from him on the bench like I’m a whole carton of ice cream and he just decided to go on a diet.
“Excuse me, Varra,” he says, standing up. “Now it is I who really does require long walk. Aunt Alisha has given to me some of the paper you use to trade for goods. I shall procure some Mountain Dew and a red cow for you.”
“Red Bull,” I correct, smiling at the error. “And you know those are drinks, don’t you? Like, sodas you get at the convenience store?”
FJ smiles, the action handsoming up his entire face. “I know this now.”
And I kid you not, I find myself looking directly into his eyes again. What. The. Hell?
“Seriously, I can get it myself,” I say, standing up. Letting him do this for me feels weird. I’m used to taking care of my own needs. And doesn’t he have a dragon war room to get back to or something?
But he insists, “I would do this for you, Varra. You may sleep while you await my return.”
He leaves before I can say anything more. And I stand there, not quite sure what to do. I don’t necessarily want him running errands for me, but trying to catch up with him feels a little silly considering all the work I have waiting for me back in my room. And, also after…
I shiver. But not because of the cold. He shouldn’t have kissed me. He really shouldn’t have. And I really, really, really shouldn’t have kissed him back.
I have no excuse other than…it was my first kiss. And my first second kiss. The whole experience obviously short-circuited my common sense.
Still, there is a lot of mental hand wringing as I trudge through the snow back to the house. Because I have to wonder what this means for my chances of convincing the Viking brothers to leave this time period without me.
Biting my lip, I look back over my shoulder at FJ. Only to find him in the same place by the bench. Like a date who’s dropped me off and wants to make sure I get inside the house before he leaves. Not that I’ve ever been on a date, but they seem to do that a lot on TV.
“Seriously, this doesn’t change anything!” I say, shouting so he can hear me over the cold Alaska wind.