Me
I’ll keep thinking about it
How are things at the resort?
My subject change would ensure entertainment for at least a while, because there was always something interesting going on at the resort.
After we heard all the drama from Sage, we’d get the latest news on Vera’s soulmate search, which would take another half an hour.
By the time our conversation finally ended, I put my phone down and looked over at Bo. He was focused on his work. There was a crease on his forehead, and a couple of wild curls had completely concealed his left eye.
Hewasgorgeous.
And ultimately, weweretrapped in his cabin. If my fiancé could catch up to me before I could safely make a run for it, I was going to end up marrying him. There was no alternative. Every bastard in the skulk would help him kill me if I refused in person.
Three or more days with Bo might be all I had left of my freedom.
And if they were…
Well, then I might as well enjoy them.
Though I’d made up my mind, I silently weighed the pros and cons of doing what I was considering while I washed the dishes and cleaned the rest of the kitchen too.
Screwing Bo would change everything. We could never go back to what things were like before.
But things had been shitty before.
So why would a permanent change matter?
I was sure of my decision by the time the kitchen was spotless.
Though my stomach was tight with both nerves and excitement, I dropped my dirty hand towel in the laundry room before walking over to Bo’s desk.
Bo looked up just as I reached him. “Everything good with your friends?”
“Yeah. You busy?”
“Not with anything that needs to be done right now. Why?”
I sat down on his lap, straddling him and taking fistfuls of his shirt.
Fire lit in his eyes, and his hands landed on my hips.
“You said we’re stuck in here for at least three more days. I think we should do our best to enjoy them,” I said.
“What are you suggesting?”
He wanted to hear me say it.
“An agreement. Sex, with no strings attached. When the snow melts enough for me to run, I run, and neither of us looks back.”
Bo studied me for a long moment. “I’m in. Conditionally.”
“What are your conditions?”
“First, we don’t talk about your alpha.”
“He’s not mine, but agreed.” I didn’t bat an eye at the request. Shifters were possessive. Talking about my fiancé—even if I hadn’t actually chosen him or agreed to be his—would be a turnoff for Bo.
