Fate Picked Me, the Alpha Passed, and I Felt Nothing novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: Cold Lake

The lake was forty-eight degrees, and I screamed when I went in.

Dray laughed.

He had never laughed that way around me, with his whole chest, his head thrown back and his wet hair in his eyes.

We were standing chest-deep off the end of his dock at ten o'clock on Wednesday night, naked, under a sky full of cold stars.

"This was your idea," he said.

"It was your dock."

"You said, and I quote, I want to see you wet."

"I meant in a bathtub."

"Wolves swim."

"I'm half a wolf. The half that likes a bathtub."

He waded toward me through the black water and put his hands on my waist.

His skin was shockingly warm, even there.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips, and the cold went out of me where he touched.

"You're freezing," he said.

"Warm me up."

"Gladly."

He carried me out of the lake in his arms.

He climbed the dock and crossed the lawn and kicked the back door open with one bare foot, dripping on the floorboards all the way to the bathroom.

The tub in the Point house is an old cast-iron clawfoot he found at a salvage yard in Saranac Lake.

He set me on the edge of it and turned the tap, and steam rose in thick curls.

I sat there shivering with a towel around my shoulders while it filled.

He stood in front of me with water running down his body and looked at me.

"What?" I said.

"Nothing."

"Say it."

"You're sitting in my bathroom," Dray said quietly. "With a towel on. Wet hair. I've thought about it, and I never thought it would actually."

"Get in the tub."

He climbed in.

The water came up to his hips, and he sat down against the sloped back and sighed.

I dropped the towel and stepped in after him.

The heat made my skin sting.

I sank down on my knees in front of him between his legs, with the water to my waist, and put my hands on his thighs.

His eyes went dark.

"Rue."

"Lean back."

He leaned back against the iron and rested his arms on the rim.

I looked at his cock, hard and flushed above the water.

I had touched it a dozen times.

I had never put my mouth on it.

"Tell me how this is going to feel," I said, "before I do it."

"It's going to be too much."

"Good."

I wrapped my hand around the base and lowered my head.

I licked a slow, wet stripe up the underside, and he cursed and his hips jerked.

I did it again.

I took the head into my mouth, and the salt and heat of him flooded my tongue, and he made a sound that rang off the tile.

"Oh my God. Rue."

I sucked gently, swirling my tongue, and slid down an inch more.

His hand came off the rim and into my hair and stopped there, trembling, not pulling.

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