11. Pickles and Brake Pedals

MARIGOLD

I ’ve barely finished cleaning the kitchen when Jasper arrives home from his meeting.

“What have you been doing?”

I spin and take a step back, pressing my back into the edge of the kitchen counter.

“Did you seriously clean while I was gone?”

I scowl at him. “What did you expect? That I’d be lying in bed pining after you the entire time you’re gone?”

He’s all tension and bright aqua eyes as he closes the distance between us, wasting no time as his mouth presses to the spot on my neck that makes me shiver.

“Is this supposed to be a reward or punishment?” I ask, breathy.

Jasper growls, scraping my skin with his teeth. “It’s a hello. If I was rewarding or punishing you, you’d know it.” I could melt into a puddle in the middle of the kitchen from the heat in his eyes.

“Did the meeting go well?” I ask, the words spread out as my brain turns to sludge.

He halts his work and leans back to look me in the eyes. The glow of them shows how turned on he is, and suddenly I’m doubting if we will do anything else besides ravage each other today. That would be absolutely fine with me.

“They agreed with my assessment. We’re putting together a plan. Everything is going to be fine.”

Relief washes through me, relaxing my muscles and giving way to a burning desire to touch every bit of him that I can. With the stress lifted, I can keep him all to myself without any guilt. At least for a few hours.

“So what do you want to do today?” I ask, hoping he says stay in bed.

“I’d like to take you on a date,” he says.

“Wow,” I say, my grin widening until my cheeks hurt. “What’s the plan?”

“You’ll find out. Nothing too crazy, but I think we’ll have fun,” he answers.

Resisting the urge to squeal, I kiss his cheek and head toward my bedroom to put on real clothes. “But we have to be back in time for dinner. I invited everyone over for a game night. I hope you don’t mind,” I say over my shoulder.

His eyes go wide. “You did?”

“Um, yeah. They all know about our living situation now, so why not? I can cancel if you like or ask Hazel to host.”

A slow smile breaks out across his face. “No, it sounds great. Just unexpected.”

After some deliberation, I pick a yellow sundress with tiny white daisies all over it. It might clash with my hair, but I don’t care. The dress makes me happy, and Jasper must like it too because his lips part silently when I walk out of the bedroom.

He’s wearing jeans for once, though they are black like most of his clothing, paired with a black Henley. It might be casual, but damn if he doesn’t look scrumptious.

It’s a quick walk to the parking lot, and we don’t see any of our packmates.

Jasper’s car is a sleek and sporty SUV. Black of course. It’s shorter than the trucks the pack owns, and somehow much fancier. He opens the door for me and I slide onto the leather bucket seat.

“Wow, that’s a lot of buttons,” I mutter as Jasper settles into the driver's seat and pushes another button to start the car. The steering wheel has a little shield in the center with a tiny stallion. I have no idea what brand it signifies.

He grins at me, throwing the car into reverse and smoothly pulling onto the winding road to take us to town.

“This is a nice car,” I say, peering at the central flat-screen display. Jasper hums, smiling as I continue, “ Do you like it better than the one you had to leave behind?”

He shrugs. “It’s a newer model of the same thing. I like what I like.”

“Oh, cool,” I say. He turns from the dirt road onto the highway and I admire the trees whipping by.

He glances at me. “Do you want to get your own car at some point?”

“Probably not,” I admit. “I don’t even drive.” That gets his attention.

Frowning, he asks, “Do you know how to drive?”

I shrug. “Never learned. It didn’t seem important.” He shakes his head, and his hand goes to my leg, sliding higher until my entire body is tingling. He stops, fingers gripping high on my thigh, the hem of my dress pushed up. I have half a mind to grab his wrist and shove his hand higher, but that’s a bad idea while he’s driving.

His hand lifts as we exit the freeway for the tiny mountain town that sits about twenty-five miles from the pack. I’ve been in town a few times, but it’s so small, there isn’t much reason to visit.

Jasper parks on the curb in front of a brick building. I tug my dress back down before he opens my door and helps me out. Our fingers weave together and he leads me to a brick archway. The sign says “Birch & Brew”.

“This is my favorite coffee shop. Well, the only coffee shop within a hundred miles, but it’s still great. I finished my degree online right here,” he rambles, pushing the heavy wooden door open. Is he nervous ?

The smell of caramel, cream, and coffee swirl around us. The steam wand on the espresso machine hisses as a barista with green hair froths some milk. The sounds of country-folk music resonates softly.

“What would you like?” he asks, squeezing my hand gently.

“Tea, please.”

“Something fruity or something creamy and spicy?”

“Spicy sounds lovely,” I say, unable to resist breathing in his scent. It somehow fits in this coffee shop with the acidic coffee and sugary syrups.

Jasper orders a fancy cold-brew coffee for himself and a hot honey chai latte for me, before pulling me by the hand over to a couple of leather armchairs in the corner.

He strokes the inside of my palm with his thumb while we wait, making my whole arm prickle, until he has to release me to stand to get our drinks.

I accept the warm cup and take a sip. The spices remind me of Jasper. Delicious. I should not be turned on by a chai latte.

“So I know the last school day was kinda rough. But tell me about good days,” he asks, lounging back in his seat.

If I had come into this coffee shop and seen him for the first time, I’d be too intimidated to speak with him. He’s magnificent with early afternoon light hitting his pale hair and highlighting his straight nose and full lips. I’m convinced he is prettier than I am.

“Marigold?” he prompts, and I snap out of it .

“Okay, you want wholesome and cute, or funny?” I ask.

“Funny,” he says, eyes gleaming.

“This happened before you came, so I don’t think you’ve heard the story yet.” Sitting forward in my seat, I drop my voice. “So this one is actually my brother’s fault. Last year, when Cobalt was nine,” I pause, my hand covering my mouth as I try to stay in control long enough to tell the story.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Okay, when you were like ten or eleven, did you ever go through a phrase where you were drawing…” I choke back a laugh at his confused expression. “Male parts?’

Jasper snorts, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, but I’ve seen kids do that.”

Taking a deep breath, I nod. “So Cobalt was doodling peens on his notebook. Not the stuff he turned in, just the notes I wasn’t supposed to see.” Jasper shakes his head, his lips pressed together to suppress his grin. “Well, of course the other kids got in on it.”

“So what happened?”

“Daisy turned a page in.”

“Oh, no.”

I nod. “I asked her what was drawn on the corner of her math quiz.” I pause, enjoying his eyes going wide. “And she said it was a pickle.”

Another rough laugh escapes him.

“So I had to go through everyone’s notebooks.”

“Of course. ”

“And I find a lot of these drawings. But everyone is claiming they’re pickles with eyeballs”

“Naturally.”

“So I sit them down, and ask why they think these are pickles. And Starling looks me dead in the face and says, ‘Because Cobalt drew a stick figure eating one. So they must be pickles.’”

He drops his head, body shaking with laughter. “Seriously?”

“Yes. A stick figuring eating a pickle .”

“Stick figure…” he says between laughs. I nod, reaching out and running my hand down his back as he calms down. “What did you do about your brother?”

Shaking my head, I cross my arms. “Let my dad deal with it. Honestly, it was probably Indie’s fault as much as Cobalt’s.”

“He seems like a trouble-maker when he wants to be,” he says, and I have to agree. I love my brothers, but they are a lot to handle.

“You’re a great teacher. And you’re funny,” he praises, taking my hand, flipping it, and kissing my wrist. I can’t help but be disappointed I’m in my own chair and not in his lap. Public space and all.

Back in his car, he pulls out of town, but then slows and parks on the side of the road.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask, fidgeting with the leather seam of my seat.

Jasper smirks. “I think you should drive.”

Spluttering, I shake my head. “No thank you. This is a really nice car. I’d rather learn on a junker so if I screw something up, it’s not a huge deal.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, running his hands over the steering wheel.

“Bad idea.”

He opens his door and slides one leg out. “I’ll be right here. We can go slow.”

“Seriously, what if I bust your car?” I say, reaching over to grab his sleeve and keep him from climbing out of the vehicle.

“Marigold, you can do this.” The command in his voice silences me.

The driver’s seat is overwhelming, with so many indicators and knobs. Jasper points out the speed and how to change from Park to Drive to Reverse. I know the basic mechanics, but I’ve never tried to use them.

“Foot on the brake, and take it from Park to Drive,” he instructs. I hold down the brake so hard, I expect to snap the pedal.

“Now ease off the brake, and it’ll start rolling forward, and you can steer us off the shoulder into the road.”

Gritting my teeth, I lift my foot, only to slam it back down when the car lurches forward a few inches.

“Try again,” he orders, his hand coming up under my hair to massage the nape of my neck.

On the second attempt, I manage to roll along the side of the road. Slowly, I pull the wheel to the left until we’re drifting onto the pavement.

“Okay, you’ll need to add a bit of gas before another car comes along and gets pissed we’re going five miles per hour.” I shoot him an alarmed look and he laughs, his hand squeezing the base of my neck, thumb rubbing circles. Tentatively, I press down on the gas pedal. The second we surge forward, I yank my foot back and he smiles at me. “It’s okay, Sunshine, try again.”

Soon enough we’re hurtling down the road at an impressive twenty miles-per-hour. But once another car pulls up and swings around us with a honk, I lose my nerve.

“Can that be enough?” I ask, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“If that’s what you want,” he agrees and then jerks forward when I tap the break harder than I meant to. Somehow I manage to slow and pull off into the grassy shoulder. A bush scrapes along the side of his car and I cringe, but Jasper seems unbothered. I reach for the door handle to get out, but he grabs my forearm and pushes the button to turn the car off. “Where are you going?”

“Swapping back,” I say, frowning at him.

“You can climb right across,” he says with a cocky tilt of his head.

Rolling my eyes, a reach for the door. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m too clumsy for that.” The center console is fairly low and flush, but I still don’t like my odds of not kneeing him in the groin.

His eyes spark. Oh, crap, I know what that look means.

Before I can open the glossy black door handle, hands grab my waist and I’m hauled over the center console into his lap. I want to be angry, but I’d spent our coffee date wishing I was here, so it seems hypocritical to put up a fuss.

For a moment, he holds me, his brassy grin softening while he inspects me. Unable to help myself, I reach up and drag my fingers through his hair. He leans into my touch, eyelids drooping as he enjoys my nails against his scalp.

I love him like this. He’s still charming, but the polished edges are washed away to show something real and genuine underneath.

Leveraging against the door and the dash, I lift one leg across until I’m straddling him.

“You make me crazy,” he murmurs, his hands falling to my hips and slowly stroking over the fabric of my dress.

“I think you were already crazy,” I tease.

With a growl, his hands slide up to run across my ribs, causing me to jerk away. He pauses and his eyes flick up to study my face, understanding dawning. If he starts to tickle me, I really will knee him in the groin.

A few heartbeats pass as he decides what to do, but then he’s pressing against my back and urging me closer. Heat and spice envelops me.

After last night, I’d like to think I’m an expert at kissing Jasper. It’s been my new favorite hobby, so when he scatters light, tormenting kisses across my cheeks and the edges of my mouth, I want to grab him and shake him. He’s being a tease.

Instead, I grip the sides of his face and cover his mouth with mine. He tastes like coffee and vanilla and I’m lost in the blissful sensation. His tongue, his teeth tugging my lip, his hands roving. It’s everything.

My dress has ridden up, exposing the length of my thighs. His hands track upwards, teasing the hem of my dress. I let out a frustrated groan and can feel his mouth curve into a smile.

Softly, he uses his hand to tip my jaw up and give him easier access to my neck. I arch my back and throw my head back. It’s a display of trust and vulnerability, and from the hitch in his breathing, one he finds appealing. He kisses down my neck, nipping the skin and then smoothing over the sting.

At the base of my throat, his sharper canine teeth scrape my skin, causing me to gasp. He repeats the action, momentarily taking up all space in my consciousness. All I can do is hold on to his shoulders. His lips close around the spot and he sucks, following with a lick that sends sparks down to my toes.

He leans back enough to look at the spot, a wicked smile forming. I don’t need a mirror to know he left a hickey. The possessive curl of his fingers on my hips and the growl he lets out is pure wolf shifter.

His next kiss is demanding, aggressive, and I love it, from the way he forces my lips apart to the unyielding pressure. Tension builds in my body as he slides his palms up my legs again, pausing at the top with the barest brush before descending. I can’t take it anymore.

Blood pounds through my veins, beating so hard I’m sure he can feel my pulse everywhere our skin touches.

“Jasper,” I rasp, my words choppy, “if you don’t start touching me, I’m going to have to do it myself, because otherwise I’m going to die. ”

His laugh is evil. “Not sure what you’re talking about, Sunshine.” My nails dig into the skin on his biceps. He knows exactly what I mean.

My forehead falls against his shoulder, my eyes squeezed shut. Releasing my hold on his arms, I reach down between us and under the hem of my dress. Before I can touch where I need, his hand grabs my wrist with a guttural “Mine.”

I’d love to make some clever comeback to that, but the second he says mine, all rational thought drops out of my head. I’m burning, about to break.

“You need it that badly?” he teases, his whisper almost inaudible. “Let me hear you beg.”

“I did,” I whine, the shake in my voice betraying my failing composure. My free hand slides under the collar of his shirt, loving the heat of his skin.

His chuckle makes my stomach clench. “You didn’t.”

Scowling, I open my mouth to argue, but the feel of his lips against my skin short-circuits my brain. He kisses further down my chest, tugging the neckline of my dress down. His mouth across the sensitive skin on my breast is enough to break down my resolve entirely. “Jasper, please. I need you.”

Grinning, he releases my wrist and runs his palms up my thighs. Tentatively, he brushes his fingers across my panties. Light, teasing. On the second pass, he’s firmer, and my body squirms in reaction.

“Hold still,” he says softly, authority in his voice causing me to stiffen .

His teeth close on my breast, marking me again, as his fingers hone in right where I need him, swirling and pressing. The sharp pain punctuates the pleasure. My vision goes spotty, touch overwhelming the rest of my senses. His voice sounds far away as he says, “Good girl.” I come so hard I think I might actually die.

Jasper gathers me up in his lap with my head against his chest. “You okay?” His words are sweet, but his tone is wicked.

“I didn’t realize,” I say, gathering up my scattered thoughts. “When it’s just me, it doesn’t quite hit that hard.”

“You’re saying I’m the best you’ve ever had?” I can hear the pride in his voice. My laugh is dry.

The weight of his arms around me is comforting, like an anchor holding me together. Finally he breaks the silence. “What do you imagine when you touch yourself?”

Closing my eyes, I say, “You want to hear that I think about you?”

“I think about you . Even before you moved in,” he confesses, his cocky tone replaced with vulnerability. Nuzzling his nose into my hair, right behind my ear, he sends a shiver through my body. “So what about you?”

“Really, before?” I ask, a flush rising up my neck. He nods and I feel it more than see it. “Okay fine, I think about you, but only recently.”

“As long as I’m it from now on,” he says possessively, “In fact, you don’t even need to do anything. Come to me and I’ll take care of you. ”

Rolling my eyes, I tip my chin up and place a soft kiss on the edge of his jaw. “Sure.” No girl would turn down an orgasm like that one. Talk about some amazing benefits with this friendship.

“I feel like I should return the favor,” I say, shifting on his lap so I can cup his erection through his jeans. That can’t be comfortable.

He kisses my cheek and then opens the car door. “As nice as that sounds, we should get going. We don’t want to miss dinner.”

“I’m fine with missing dinner,” I say, reaching for his belt buckle.

Scowling, he shakes his head. “No missing meals.”

With that, he slides out from under me, and heads around to the driver's seat, leaving me to fumble with my seatbelt like I’ve forgotten how my limbs work.