We fucked again a third time that night, me on hands and knees in front of him, face to the mattress and biting a pillow to keep from howling the house down. Afterward, I ordered some food sent up, because I for sure needed to refuel and I thought some time spent feeding each other might be a nice way to start cooling the date down toward the end point. Not that I'd object to going longer--he was attentive and curious and took surprisingly good direction. Asked for it, even, which wasn't usual in a date. So a little spoiling was in order, and some odd quirk of sentimentality had me putting the meal on my own account with the house, not his.

He really had me.

While we waited for the food, we snuggled in the bed and he explored my body some more, but just casually, as if he couldn't stop the restless movement of his hands.

"You're in very good shape," I commented, tracing the solid lines of his pecs. He had a small round scar on one, up high, almost to his shoulder. "This must have hurt."

"It did." He picked my hand up and kissed my palm, then laid it back down on the center of his chest and covered it with his own hand. "What made you want to do this?"

His heart beat against my palm, strong and steady. "Oh, well, lots of reasons." Oddly, I didn't want to sound mercenary to him, though I guess I kind of was. "I like people. This is a good way to make a living. It's not hard work, I hear lots of interesting stories. And it means I don't have to depend on anyone else."

"And you never wanted to be mated?"

Why was he asking these questions? "Never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. I'm happy like this." A thought occurred to me. "You know a bit about us."

He froze, then took a deep breath and shrugged. "I've worked with shifters before."

As an explanation, it said everything and nothing. But it wasn't my business to pry into his life--he was here for sex and maybe a little fantasy, not for in-depth philosophical discussions. "So that's why you aren't scared of me," I teased and kissed the nipple closest to me.

"I wouldn't say that." He laughed softly, but it was a dark thing and I hid my wince at having stepped on his paw.

A knock on the door announced our food. I scrambled off the bed and trotted over to open it, throwing my robe on at the last minute. Didn't want to shock the human, but it wasn't like I hadn't been seen in all states of undress by half the staff here before anyway. "I'll take it, thank you," I said to the shifter who'd brought it up. She must have been new, or maybe just covering for someone else. Her brown bracelet was shiny with lack of wear. I made sure to step in the way of her sight as I pulled the cart inside the room—privacy was also something we prided ourselves on. And, to a certain extent, I was feeling a little possessive of this human. I hoped he'd come back.

I hoped he'd pick me if he did.

"Food," I announced once the door was closed and began pushing the cart across the room. I lost the robe again on the way, because nothing was more fun than being waited on hand and foot by your own personal naked servant. The attentiveness with which he watched me cross the room again was proof that I'd once again judged him correctly.

Chocolate dipped fruit fresh from our own little orchards, thin-sliced steak coated with pepper and spice, deep fried julienned vegetables—all things that could be easily eaten with hands, or fed to your partner without mess or crumbs in the sheets.

I climbed up to sit on his lap again, figuring I could distract him with food if his fascination with my omega line got the better of him. Though if he wanted to play with it again after, I was more than willing. I'd been stunned by the difference in sensation between my own personal explorations of that part of my body and the feelings he'd invoked in me simply by breathing on it. A shiver ran over my skin as my body took the memory of his tongue tracing over my line and thrust it back into my nerves.

"Cold?" David asked and reached to pull the sheets up around my hips.

"Not cold," I told him and lowered my eyelids so I could peek up at him through my lashes. "Remembering."

His cheeks went a little pink, but he smiled. "Me too," he confided, as if we were two pups sharing secrets.

I laughed and reached to pick out the nicest of the slices of beef. "Open up, my alpha," I said, and wondered at the sudden jerk he gave. Maybe he didn't want to be compared to a shifter? Most humans liked the idea of being an alpha to my omega, though. But, everyone was different. I covered up my mistake by holding the meat to his lips. "Try this, it's delicious." I let my fingers rest on his lips as he took the tidbit and, as I'd expected, he licked the tips of them, his eyes burning as he watched me.

His hands skated up my thighs again and tugged me down to lie on his chest. "How am I supposed to feed you from here?" I pouted and stretched so I could rub myself against him. Maybe the food could wait...

"What if I want to feed you?" he said and his voice rumbled in his chest beneath my ear. "What do you like?"

I snorted a little in laughter. "I might have ordered my favorites," I confessed in my best I'm-so-bad-you-have-to-love-me voice.

"Ah," he replied and dragged the cart a little closer. "What are these?" He held up the crispy oval of a breaded and fried slice of carrot.

"Try it and see." I could feel a building tension at the base of my spine, but most of me was quite content to lie on top of him like a blanket, muscles slack with exertion and the heat of his body, and just watch him try the food. Every second mouthful was offered to me and I accepted them carefully, making sure to run my tongue or lips or even the edge of a tooth over his fingers as I ate. His eyes grew darker each time I did it and the hand splayed over the middle of my back began its gentle exploration again.

When the food was finished, I poured us more water—his rum and coke still sat neglected on the table—and settled on his lap again to let him amuse himself with my body.

"Can I ask you something?" he said in a voice that was so uncertain I almost didn't recognize it.

“Of course,” I said as I ran my hands up his ribcage. He was ever so slightly ticklish and it was fun to watch him struggle not to give in to it.

“Could I…” He paused and glanced toward the window, then looked back at me, though I noticed he didn’t try to meet my eyes. “Could I see your wolf form?”

I froze. I couldn’t help it. Normally I just rolled with the requests, put them off or led them along to some version of what they wanted that I was willing to do, but this… “We don’t do that here,” I croaked through a throat gone suddenly tight. “If you want that kind of thing, you’ll have to go someplace else.” Out of the country, probably. I rolled off him and onto the floor on the other side of the bed, backing away until I could figure out if this was just awkward or a date going bad.

He looked down and away from me and began scrabbling about for his clothing. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. It’s personal, I know.”

I watched in astonishment as he jerked his pants up over his legs. For a moment, the look on his face had been that of a heart-broken man, like he’d built himself up with hope and dreams and I’d just smashed them—and him—carelessly to pieces.

But why? What would make a human ask something so…inappropriate? I wasn’t a dog to do tricks for him, and he’d done nothing throughout the night to make me think he saw me that way. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and scented, but it was hard to tell what was him and what was the emitter. He certainly smelled like a human, if slightly off.

“Why do you want to see my other form?” I demanded as he gathered up his socks and his shirt.

He stopped at the side of the bed, a sock clutched in each hand, and stared at me wide-eyed.

“Why?” I demanded again. “No other human has asked me for this. Why?” I needed to know with a strength that puzzled me.

“I just…” He stopped and shook his head. “No, there’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I’ll leave. Charge me for the whole four hours, you more than earned it.”

He was ignoring me, ignoring my questions. My…personhood.

“Not until you explain. You at least owe me that.”

He slumped down onto the edge of the bed and after a moment began pulling his socks on, but it was like watching a blind man in an unfamiliar territory. “I think you’re beautiful. It’s been a long time…”

Oh. OH.

It happened, sometimes. A human who lived near an enclave might find a shifter attractive, might get to know them a little. It was a scandal to encourage them—the humans thought we were animals, the shifters thought the humans were monsters. But it still happened occasionally.

The hint of alpha came back to me again, but this time it had an entirely different connotation. He was likely wearing cologne, something his shifter lover had said made him smell a little like an alpha.

I edged around the foot of the bed, watching him carefully.

David stood up and glanced around the room as if searching for something. Probably his shirt. Or his shoes.

His eyes were red.

I was a fool. The hooker with the heart of gold. He looked so broken, the poor thing. If I did this for him, would I just hurt him worse?

“Promise me,” I said slowly, “that you will never mention this to anyone. It’s…”

His eyes widened and he turned slowly to look at me as if he were trapped in honey. “No, Salem, really. You don’t—”

I put a hand up; he was just close enough that I could lay my fingers on his lips to stop him saying whatever was coming next. “Promise me. We are not dogs, to perform at your bidding. But I will do this for you, if you will promise to take this secret to your grave.”

He nodded dumbly at me and I watched him a moment longer, worried that I’d trusted too far.

“I swear to you, on my mother’s ashes,” he said quietly, and there was something in his voice that rang like an alpha’s. It was easy to see how a fellow shifter could take him into their heart and their bed, try to keep him like he wasn’t something entirely other.

“Wait here.” I wasn’t going to shift in front of him, that was too private for humans. But the gift of my wolf, I could give him, for the sorrow and longing in his heart. We were wolves, and that made us fierce, but a wolf could be gentle too, and care for those creatures unable to defend themselves.

I slipped into the bathroom, closed the door until there was only a crack of open space between it and the wall, and changed.