The Hungry Wolf Ch. 07

"You...you wouldn't be as easily accepted into the pack."
"As easily accepted," she repeated looking at his face.

"You would be constantly challenged, Charlotte. And most likely eventually killed."

"It would be that bad?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes, it would." She looked at his face closely.

"Thank you for being honest with me," she said quietly. She lifted her head and kissed him.

"I promised," he said with a smile. She smiled back at him, tracing his lips with her fingers.

"And I promise to do my best to keep myself from jumping you," she sighed. "But you have to stop being barefoot and shirtless in the kitchen," she laughed.

"I promise. No shoes, no shirt, no kitchen until after next week." She smiled and kissed his chin. "It won't be that difficult. Just think how good it will feel at the ceremony, how good the mating will feel," he said with a tweak of her nipple, his voice low.

"Is...does sex feel better when you're...um..." she stammered.

"When I shift?"

"Yeah."

He was silent for a bit, thinking on his words carefully. "It's not better, exactly. It's a bit different, but not better or worse."

"Different how?"

"Well, physically I'm different," he said with a sigh. "It changes the sensation a bit. Subtly."

"Subtly?"

"It's hard to explain." She looked at him, eyebrow arched skeptically. "It is," he insisted with a laugh. "It's like trying to describe an orgasm."

"Right," she laughed, blushing slightly. "Like that's difficult."

"Go ahead and describe it, Charlie." He watched her as she opened her mouth several times as if to speak but closed it without saying anything. "Exactly," he said.

"Alright. Point made," she laughed, poking him in the ribs. They fell silent, caressing each other idly, just enjoying the quiet together.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Damien asked suddenly.

"Your parents?" she asked. He nodded. "I guess. As ready as I will ever be." She squeezed his shoulder before using it to pull herself up.

"Don't be nervous."

"Right. Thanks. That makes it all better," she said, shaking her head at him and chuckling softly. "I think I just need to get it over with, you know? I'm going to be nervous until it's done." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I know."

"What time will they be here?"

"Sometime in the afternoon, around four or so." He sat up and began pulling her clothes to him. "We'll have some time with them before dinner."

"I thought it was going to be a barbeque and party?"

"A roast, actually, but yeah, it will be a celebration." He passed her her clothes and watched as she slipped her shirt on, leaving the bra on the ground.

"Okay." She stood and pulled her jeans on. "Do you do this every time they come back?"

"Yes, we do." She put her bra and panties in her pocket and slipped her feet back into her shoes. He held his hand out to her as she finished dressing.

"And they haven't been back for three years?" she asked, taking his hand and letting him lead her back home.

"Yes." They walked in silence for a few minutes before Charlie stopped, tugging on his hand to get him to stop and face her.

"I just want you to know....I am excited about meeting your family, Damien. It wars with my nervousness, but it's there."

"I know, Charlie." He gave her hand a squeeze and started back towards the house. They fell quiet again as they made their way back to the main house and their apartment. Charlie cleaned up the uneaten stew on the stove and made sandwiches for them both while Damien showered. They ate in front of the TV, watching a funny movie and talking about trivial things. Charlie went up to shower when it was over, leaving Damien to clean up before coming to bed.

She smiled at the simple domesticity of the night as she walked upstairs, understanding Damien's intent was to soothe her nerves -- and that it worked. She felt her heart swell at his thoughtfulness. "I'll have to thank him properly after our ceremony," she said to herself as she rummaged through the drawers before heading into the bathroom to shower. She undressed and stood in front of the mirror, no longer mindful of the wall of windows behind her. She looked at her scars, really looked at them for the first time in years, her hands tracing them gently. They weren't as bad as she remembered. They were there, and the word was clear, but was smaller than she always saw them in her mind, always believed they were, and they were much fainter in spots. I'd still rather not have them at all, she thought as she climbed into the shower.

Damien was already in bed when she came out about twenty minutes later, propped up reading a book. "Where did you get my Plimsouls t-shirt?" he asked as she climbed into bed next to him.

"This? This is my niteshirt."

"Oh really," he laughed, putting the book on the bedside table and turning off his lamp.

"Uh huh. My boyfriend gave it to me." She lay down and turned to face him.

"You sure he didn't just lend it to you?" Damien asked, turning to face her.

"Lend, give...it's all the same, really," Charlie said with a yawn. "Besides, he's not my boyfriend anymore so he won't mind."

"He's not, huh?"

"Nope. He's my fiancé now."

"I see," Damien said, taking her into his arms and laying her head on his shoulder. "I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you."

"So do I, cowboy. So do I," Charlie sighed, surprising a chuckle out of him.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, Damien," she said, nuzzling his skin as they drifted off to sleep.