WADE helped escort me out of the car. His touch was captivating, sending a ripple of tingles down my spine. My breath hitched in my chest, and I struggled to walk up the automatic doors of the hotel without crumbling. My knees were like Jello, shaking with each step.
When we finally got inside the hotel, Wade rushed to the check-in desk. I was so preoccupied with steadying my breaths and trying my hardest to not let any embarrassing sounds escape my lips that I didn't pay much attention to what was going on around me.
In record time, Wade had been handed our room key and then was fast to book it toward the elevator. The wait was excruciating. My eyes would wander to Wade, and I'd have to bite my tongue to keep from gawking. My wolf wanted Wade, and she wanted Wade now.
I wasn't in much of a state to deny my wolf her wants and desires. But is that what I wanted? Did I want him? Moreover, did I want him like this?
Heat was nature's way of bringing mates together. When the bond wasn't enough, more often than not, the burning heat would have a tantalizing effect on both people in the mate bond.
It was hard to resist.
But something inside me made me believe Wade would be just the right person to restrain himself from such temptations.
After a few minutes, the elevator finally chimed, opening its doors wide. Wade muttered under his breath as he guided me into the lift. When the doors finally closed and Wade pressed the third-floor button, the lurking tension between us was palpable.
I leaned against the side of the elevator for support, taking a moment to catch my breath. The fire between my legs grew as I watched Wade's chest rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern.
I adjusted the collar of my shirt as a bead of sweat trickled down my back. I licked my lips and closed my eyes. I didn't know how I was going to get through the night.
When the doors of the elevator reopened, I stumbled forward, but Wade caught me before I could faceplant on the floor. His touch soothed the flames dancing up and down my arms, and I instinctively leaned into his touch.
He whispered, "Fuck," as he dragged me to our destination. He fumbled with the key, but it was not long before the hotel door opened. Wade rushed me to the bed, plopping me down on the mattress. He wasted no time scurrying off toward the bathroom.
Too comfortable to move, I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling as my body shivered. Sweat began to drench every inch of my body, but I was cold at the same time. I could hear the tap from the bathroom run, but it was quickly cut short. Wade's hastened footsteps marched back toward me.
"Here," his voice was raspy. "This should make you feel better."
He placed a damp washcloth on my forehead. I sighed in relief, pushing the washcloth over my eyes. I barely managed to mutter a jumbled, "Thanks," before Wade was back in motion.
"I'm going to get our luggage," I could sense he neared the door. "I need some air."
And then he was gone.
And I was left to my spiraling thoughts.
I had never realized how attractive Wade had been before. When we first met, I had been caught off guard by his stand-offish exterior, but in the light of my heart, I could marvel at how well-sculpted he was.
He had just the right amount of muscles. He was fit without being too well-built. He still had some soft edges. His jaw was sharply aligned, and the scar on his face made my heart skip a beat. His skin was so perfectly tanned. I couldn't help but wonder if the same pigment was carried beneath his clothes.
Wade without clothes. The thought entered my mind, and suddenly, the relief from the damp washcloth was no more.
I could feel my temperature rising as my back arched and pain shot through my side. I cradled my stomach, turning over on my side. The washcloth fell from my forehead as I withered in pain.
No matter how I tried to position myself, I could not get comfortable. Wade had not been wrong when he said we were in for a long night.
I allowed myself to fantasize. It was the only thing supplying me with relief at the moment.
I'd picture Wade, slightly out of breath from rushing to get our luggage, coming back into the room. Our eyes would meet from across the room. There would be a moment of hesitation, but the moment would soon pass and give into our animalistic desires. Wade would walk over to me in long strides like he was stalking his prey.
And I would let him.
I'd let him devour me like I was his prey. His.
My breathing picked up, and I could feel that my body had found even more pleasure in my fantasies than my mind had.
Get a grip, I told myself. He could come into this room at any minute.
But he didn't. At least, he did not return so soon.
He had been gone long enough for the fantasies to fade into pure, burning agony. More sharp pains radiated from my stomach. I rolled over and dug my head into the mattress, but there was no relief.
I briefly wondered if anyone had ever succumbed to the symptoms of their heat; had there ever been a case when heat had been too intense to handle? Whether it had happened or not did not matter much, because I believe it was occurring to me.
My heat was getting the better of me, and I didn't know how I was going to handle countless more hours of this.
As if on cue, my body perked up when the sound of the door latching open filled the room. I squeezed my legs and inhaled as I tried to soothe my hair down. The door soon closed shut, but Wade had yet to make his presence known.
But I could hear his erratic heartbeat. He was in the room.
I wanted to call out his name, but I could not trust that my voice would not betray me. I didn't want to sound desperate. Even if I was desperate for his touch, desperate for his validation, I did not want him to know that.
I strained my eyes. And then, finally, Wade emerged from the foyer of the hotel room. My suitcase was in one of his hands while his black bag was slung across his other shoulder. His eyes gazed over me, and I could see his body tense.
He tightened his jaw and shook his head. His eyes darkened for a moment, and he said, "You smell so good. I could smell you all the way from the car."
My spirits lifted, and I maneuvered myself so my back leaned against the headboard. "Why don't you come and get a taste?"
I watched for his response, but he remained stone-cold. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and tried to position myself more seductively. I elongated my legs, trying to show them off. The thin layer of sweat that coated my body made my legs shimmer in the dull glow of the overhead lighting.
"Violet," Wade warned with a growl.
"Wade," I taunted.
His eyes darted toward the door, looking for an escape before landing back on me. "I can't."
Sitting up as straight as possible, I began removing my shirt. It was too hot in the room to be so heavily clothed, and I wanted Wade to see me. I wanted him to be tempted by me. I needed him to, and so I responded, "You can."
When the shirt was over my head, I flung it to the side of the room. Wade stalked forward, and he was soon at my side. His eyes were still dark, but his face contorted.
"Violet," my name scraped through his mouth.
Reaching out to him, I expressed my feelings. "I want you, Wade."
"Fuck." He hung his head back and ran a hand through his hair. He leaned forward. Our lips were close, but we could still look into each other's eyes. A storm brewed within his eyes as he searched through mine for answers. He questioned, "Do you really want this?"
"Yeah," I breathed as my eyes honed in on his lips. His lips were slightly chapped, but they were still inviting. I wanted so badly to close the distance between us.
"Violet?" He warned, and he began to lose his resolve.
"How can I not want you when you say my name like that?" I said, but my mind had begun to dissolve into putty. I could not think straight without circling back to Wade–without circling back to his body. I could think of nothing else.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Wade asked, "But do you want it to happen like this?"
"I," I began to say as my head tilted to the side. In a brief moment of clarity, I responded truthfully. "I don't know."
He seemed to understand. As his body still hovered over mine, he asked a different and seemingly off-topic question. "Do you trust me?"
I nodded my head, and he wasted no time scooping me into his arms. With his supernatural speed, he zoomed out of the hotel room and down the stairs until we were back in the hotel lobby. I did not know where he was taking me. I just knew my heat symptoms relented with Wade's close proximity.
On the other hand, I was becoming more and more aware of the fact my shirt had been left behind. Luckily for me, no people were lurking in the lobby as Wade carried me down the adjoining hallway. It did not take long for us to reach our destination.
The pool.
Wade opened the glass door to the pool and then set me down by the edge of the water. Once Wade's touch was no longer settling over me like a blanket, the pain began again. I doubled over, gently laying my head on the concrete edge of the pool.
Rasping, I said, "I know I said I trust you, but I don't trust myself not to drown."
"Are you doubting me?" Wade questioned. I could hear his feet splash in the water as he made his way over to me.
"Maybe," I grumbled, my arms holding fast around my stomach.
"Here," he said, finally reaching me. He held out his arms, and I struggled to sit up. As I did so, my feet dipped into the pool, and I almost groaned in relief. The water was refreshing. Growing impatient, Wade pulled me to him and soon most of my body was submerged in the chlorine-filled water.
I closed my eyes and welcomed the relief. Wade held out my shoulder for support as I floated in the water.
"Does that feel better?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, trying my best to look back at him. "How did you..." my voice trailed as I realized I didn't want the answer to my impromptu question. I didn't want to hear about all the different methods Wade had tried to soothe his first mate when her heat came.
His body tensed, and then a light chuckle left his lips. "It's not what you think. My mom actually gave me the idea."
"Your mom?" I was confused.
"I called her," he explained. "When I went to get the luggage. I've never had to go through this before."
"Not even with—"
"Not even with Willow," he responded, and I couldn't help but feel solace in the fact there were still firsts Wade had not encountered.
Flipping around to face Wade, my arms folded around his neck, and I said, "Thank you, Wade. I know this couldn't—I mean can't—be easy for you."
His lips folded into a smile. "You make it easier, Violet."
And then we floated in the pool for hours, waiting for my heat to subside.