Howl (Monster Boyfriends #1)

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

RAEGAN

I thought I could handle the amount of change that has been happening between us, but maybe I was wrong. Seeing Jamie naked and…excited—for me —it’s just all too much.

Only a few days ago, we were still the same Raegan and Jamie we’ve always been. Now, not only do I have to adjust to the fact that he’s somehow been a werewolf this entire time without telling me, but at some point I need to acknowledge this romantic pull that’s formed between us.

I’m able to distract my sinful thoughts momentarily while I whip up some cheesy scrambled eggs and avocado toast, a simple breakfast I know Jamie likes. By the time I’m placing it all on a plate, he appears in the kitchen wearing a plain black T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

Great. That outfit will definitely help calm my runaway libido.

His eyes are heavy now, and I can tell the shower has relaxed him. He’s no doubt ready for a long nap after an even longer night. I hate to be selfish and keep him up, but I can’t wait another minute without getting the answers I need.

I place the plate down on the table in front of him and he sits, muttering a quick “Thank you” before digging into the eggs with his fingers. I poke his shoulder with the dull end of the fork in my hand and he takes it with a sheepish grin, mouth full.

I choose the seat next to him and wait patiently as he stuffs himself. It doesn’t take long. As he’s swallowing his last bite, I get up to pour him a cup of water and hand it to him. He downs it just as quickly.

Another quiet moment passes, then he looks at me with an open, inviting gaze. “Well, what do you want to know first?” he asks.

I try to think of the most pressing questions that have come to mind since yesterday. I’m curious about a lot of things, but I guess I should be most concerned with the parts that affect me.

“So,” I start, “you turn every month.” It’s not a question, I just need his confirmation.

“Every full moon, yes.”

“And how long do you spend in your,” I gesture my hand wildly trying to come up with the appropriate words, “other body?”

Jamie's eyes crinkle at my gesturing. “It’s up to me. Technically, I can shift whenever I want, but I choose not to. It’s only during the peak of the moon’s cycle that I have no other choice.”

“So the moon makes you change?”

“The closer it gets to being completely full, the harder it is for me to resist shifting. I try to wait as long as I can, but,” his head dips, “it was harder this time.”

“Because of me?” I don’t know why I’ve come to that conclusion, but it just makes sense. Maybe Aidan is right. Maybe Jamie and I are mates.

After all, this new feeling between us has to mean something .

Jamie looks at me inquisitively, searching for something I have a feeling he already knows is there. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

I shake my head and wait.

“Have you felt differently toward me this week? Feelings you’ve never felt before. Maybe a desire to be close to me.”

This time I nod, achingly slow.

“What does it feel like: the feeling? Can you describe it?”

I already know the word, so I don’t have to think too hard. “It’s a pull,” I tell him. “I feel like when we aren’t together, I’m still being pulled toward you.”

He looks to the ceiling and rubs his chin thoughtfully. Then his head drops and he stares at his own hands, as if they’ve done something without his permission. “It started after Patrick, right?”

I don’t have to answer, because he already knows it’s true.

“Raegan, there are some things about being a werewolf that are hard to explain to those who’ve never experienced it.”

I know what he’s getting at, so I decide to drop the most important question right on the table where we both will have to face it. “Am I your mate?”

He sucks in a breath and grabs the tops of his thighs aggressively, then he breathes out, and all that tension melts away. “I’m thinking that’s a pretty good possibility.”

It’s such a massive realization, yet his confirmation is so blunt. Perhaps he’s already accepted our circumstances, while I am only just now beginning to process it.

“Okay,” I draw out slowly. “What does that mean exactly?”

Jamie takes his time formulating an explanation, but I can tell there are depths to this that even he can’t quite explain.

“Simply put,” he says, “we’re bonded. Fated to be together.” He turns in his seat to face me full on. “But that isn’t a prison sentence, Rae. We’re not stuck together. We both have a choice in this. It’s just…” His voice trails off as his eyes land on my mouth. I’m nervously biting my lip, and it seems to have distracted him. “Werewolves live in pairs,” he continues after refocusing. “It’s just how it is. We all, at some point, have an obligation to find our partner, but they don’t have to be the one our souls are pulled to.”

Again, he mentions the pull . Only, this time, it’s in relation to the soul. Is it truly my soul that’s trying to tell me to be with Jamie? If so, this bond he speaks of feels more metaphysical than just an act of nature.

I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat as I play with the edge of my T-shirt. Jamie’s T-shirt. When I got back to Jamie’s condo, I took a shower and changed into dry clothes. I found a worn but comfy pair of leggings left in my drawer to wear, but I didn’t have a clean shirt, so I borrowed one of Jamie’s tees from his closet. His lingering scent is all over the material—the same woodsy musk I smelled before, only now it’s mixed with the undertones of powdery soft detergent. It brings me back to the feel of that same smell wrapped around me as I slept in his bed, waiting for him to come home.

The words he’s saying make perfect sense, but my senses are so muddled by his presence, I can hardly bring myself to focus on them.

“So our souls are meant to be together,” I suggest, then add, a bit quieter, “romantically.”

He nods.

“But we don’t have to be together, physically, if we don’t want to.”

He nods again. “Right.”

I wish there were a better way of going about this. A class we could take in which we are provided a complete list of instructions on how to act and what to say, now that we are no longer considered to be just friends. Though we haven’t acted on it, the desire is clearly there. I feel it like sticky sweat clinging to the back of my neck brought on by Jamie’s eyes as they radiate his clear desire to undress me.

He might be fully clothed now, but the image of him in the shower is plastered to my subconscious like a poster of my favorite boy band in my childhood bedroom.

His eyes turn downward, probably to keep himself from continuing to stare. “We’re compatible. Why wouldn’t we be?” Then I see his eyelids flutter upward, and he’s focused back on me. “You’re my best friend. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be mated with than you.”

While his sentiment is well-intended, instead of thinking about how well suited we are as a pair because of our emotional connection, my brain goes straight to how compatible we’d be in bed.

Suddenly my cheeks are burning. My epidermis is sending out an emergency flare in the form of flushed skin, basically saying ‘Help! She’s overheating from arousal!’

I stand up quickly and take Jamie’s empty plate to the sink to rinse off. I can feel his eyes on my back, and now I’m very keenly aware that I’m not wearing a bra. When I turn back around, Jamie will most definitely spot the peaks of my hardened nipples through his T-shirt.

“This is what I was afraid of,” he murmurs quietly.

Whether it was his intention for me to hear or not, I don’t know, but now he’s getting up from the table. I hear his steps shuffle closer, and then he’s close enough that I can feel his breath on my neck.

“I never wanted any of this to freak you out,” he says.

My shirt is clinging to my back from sweat. Now I feel like I’m the one running a temperature.

“This pull we both feel toward one another,” he starts, “we can ignore it. We can move on like none of this ever happened.” Gently, I feel his fingers trail the edge of my hip as I face the sink. “If that’s what you want to do, I promise I will respect your wishes.” His voice turns huskier. “But my wolf likes you. He wants to be near you.” Then I feel his lips brush the shell of my ear as he whispers, “And so do I.”

My grip slackens around the plate I’m holding and it clatters noisily into the sink. I don’t care that there are more important conversations that need to be had, and I certainly don’t care whether or not the stars are trying to dictate who I’m meant to be with. Right now, the only thing that matters is the infinitesimal amount of space between us as Jamie inches closer.

I need to know what his lips feel like.

I need to know what his body feels like pressed against mine.

He takes a handful of my hair and pulls it away from my neck, then gently, painfully , he places a single kiss to my clammy skin.

The sigh that comes from me is enough to assure him I’m okay with what he’s doing, because he finally closes the gap and presses himself against me, flattening us against the edge of the counter.

He groans deeply against the back of my neck. “The moon has been driving me crazy, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what it would be like to fuck you, Raegan.”

Wetness pools between my legs. His voice alone is enough to make me slick with want. It’s such an anomaly, hearing those words come from the mouth of someone I’ve known as only a friend for so long. It’s taboo and hushed like a forbidden thing that should never be spoken aloud, and yet he does with such confidence.

I want to hear more of it. I want to break every rule that’s ever been set between two friends since the dawn of time, because if I spend one more second like this with Jamie’s growing erection pressed against my ass, I might combust. We could create our own galaxy with the amount of tension that’s boiling between us. Another big bang. More moons than either of us can count.

“Do you think about it?” he asks, voice husky and low. It grates against my skin like sandpaper, raising all the hairs along my neck. He moves, and then I again feel his lips along the shell of my ear. “Please tell me you do.”

I should be on the edge of another anxiety attack right now. This is all too different, too uncharted. Instead, I’m on the edge of his words as if they’re a cliff, and I’m ready to jump off.

“Yes.”

My voice is all but a whisper. I don’t even know if he’s heard me, but then his head dips and he’s pressing his forehead into the back of my shoulder. He lets out another pained groan. He’s questioning this just as much as I am, but if he doesn’t make a move in the next five seconds, I might just have to do it for him.

“This is crazy. How did we get here, Rae?”

I shake my head and grip the edge of the sink tightly to keep my hands from shaking, the urge to grab him so strong, this magnetic pull that just keeps getting stronger. “I don’t know,” I say, “but I don’t want to go back.”

Finally, I’ve spoken the magic words. Jamie spins me around to face him and cups my cheek with one hand, the other still latched to my hip. “You want this?” he asks, needing my spoken consent. “You’re absolutely sure?” I nod, my arms reaching instinctively for him, but it’s not enough. “I need to hear you say it, Raegan.”

This is it. It’s time to jump. I swallow hard, focusing on the softness of his lips and the sweat beading on his brow. “Yes. I want this.” Then add in an embarrassing whimper. “Please.”

Jamie unleashes himself upon me, like a wolf freed from a cage. His mouth collides with mine, and all the breath rushes from my lungs. He tastes sweet and feral. Every slide of his lips along mine sends a rush of longing to my core. As he kisses me, his hands slip to my thighs and lift me up. I wrap my legs around his waist for leverage as he places me gently on the counter.

“Fuck,” he growls, moving his lips to my jaw and beneath my chin. “I need to touch you. Can I take these off?” He’s tugging at my leggings, so I lift my hips and allow him to pull them down my legs. They get caught on my ankles and I giggle as he dramatically yanks them free and tosses them onto the kitchen table, knocking over a salt shaker in the process.

“That’s bad luck,” I say before sliding my fingers through the soft strands of his hair.

His head tips back and his eyes close at the feel of my nails scratching against his scalp. “I’ll burn some incense.”

“I can get you a discount at my cousin’s shop.”

“Such generosity,” he teases with a grin. “How can I repay you?”

His hands roam from my hips to my inner thighs, slowly spreading them further apart. The moment he touches the fabric of my underwear he’ll be able to feel how wet I am. My first instinct is to be embarrassed, but then the feeling flits away like a hummingbird on a breeze. This is easy. This isn’t a hookup with a stranger, this is Jamie. I can be honest, and right now I want him to know what his actions are doing to me.

My gaze drops to where his fingers are poised along the lining of the fabric that’s still hiding what he wants to feel. He said he needed to touch me. All he has to do is move half an inch.

Jamie follows my line of sight, and together we watch as his thumb slowly dips beneath the front of my underwear and slides between my seam. My gasp is far too loud, but I can’t look away. I’m slick with want. His thumb easily glides along the inside of my lips until he reaches my clit, and then he presses down. Pleasure floods my core and more wetness pools beneath his touch.

“You’re so eager for me,” he murmurs. “I’m not even inside you yet.”

He continues to slide his thumb along the same path he traced, adding gentle pressure each time he comes in contact with my clit. I want to keep watching the movements, but my eyes flutter closed, and it’s getting harder to hold my head up. I lean back and rest my head against the cabinet door, then Jamie surprises me by slipping his thumb inside me.

Before my moan has a chance to subside he’s already pulled back out. “You feel too good. I need to see what I do to you, not just feel it.” Then he grips the waistband of my underwear and removes them completely.

Now that I’m bare before him, he takes no time plunging two fingers inside me. My mouth opens to let out a gasp but no sound comes out. I’m overstimulated, gasping for air. He pulls his fingers out slowly, coated in my glistening arousal, then dips them back in, each time stroking my inner walls in search of the perfect spot. Meanwhile, his opposite hand retains its placement on my outer thigh, holding me in place. The pressure is building in my core, and the muscles in my stomach start to clench. I need the soothing comfort of his lips while his fingers achingly guide me up to the peak of my climax.

I’m panting desperately. “Kiss me?”

His eyes meet mine with tenderness. “You never have to ask.”

So I lean in and melt into his kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth searching, exploring with languid strokes. But I still need more. I’m teetering on the precipice, but something is keeping me from falling.

“Harder.”

Jamie fingers slam into me with his next thrust and I actually let out a pornographic moan. It’s instinctual. He pounds forcefully against my core, intentionally pressing hard against my clit as he moves, and soon my inner walls are screaming. A flutter builds and builds and then it takes flight. I’m coming harder than I ever have with the tools at my own disposal, and I cry out from the intensity of it, my arms on Jamie pulling him into me, panting into his shoulder.

He continues plunging into me, pulling away from me to take my jaw in his other hand to hold me steady enough to continue our kiss. Our mouths are open, sloppily sharing air and spit and I can’t get enough of it. He presses himself against the inside of my thigh, and I feel his erection begging for friction. Finally, he heaves me over the peak and continues stroking me through the full wave of my orgasm before pulling away.

Jamie takes a step back, disconnecting from me for the first time since the initial kiss. His face is flushed and we’re both panting from the intensity of what just happened.

“That was–”

“So fucking good,” he finishes for me.

Speaking for myself, I wholeheartedly agree. Even though I’m spent, muscles loose like jelly, my next thought is to take care of him. But when I glance down at where his erection was just clearly outlined in his sweatpants, now there’s a dark spot of wetness.

“Y-you came?” I stutter. “But how?”

He moves back to stand between my legs. I’m still spread openly on the counter like a buffet, but the look on his face is no longer consumed with desire. My best friend is looking at me, and I feel safe.

“You, Raegan,” he says. “Just you.”