Lukewarm Coffee

      Colin did not sleep well. The knowledge that his mate was in his bed, wearing his clothes, kept him restless. It was a good restless, the best restless he had ever felt. But it still left him exhausted. He spent the majority of the night fighting the urge to go into his room and watch her sleep. Finally, he dozed in and out as Claire's scent gave him wonderful, dirty dreams. 

      Claire woke up at 8:45, as she did every morning. Her body was like a clock, and sometimes she hated it. This was one of those times. She had been enjoying such a peaceful dream. She didn't remember it – she never remembered her dreams – but she knew that it was because she was in Colin's bed. 

      At 9 on the dot, she carefully opened the bedroom door, wincing as it creaked loudly. Colin turned on the mattress but didn't get up. She smiled and leaned in the doorframe, watching him. The golden morning sun came through the window and shined perfectly on his face. It turned the reddish tint to his hair into a fiery inferno. He looked so beautiful with his thick lashes and calm smile. He was also shirtless, and Claire shamelessly enjoyed the way the sunlight bounced off his muscled chest.

      Colin knew that she was there, watching him "sleep." He decided that he was going to stay as still as possible for as long as he could. 

      He lasted about a full minute before he had to open his eyes so that he could look at her. 

      Claire was wearing his basketball shorts and a white tank. He could see her nipples poking through it, and, for a moment, he felt like a horny teenager again. He wanted to jump her bones. Instead, Colin yawned dramatically and stretched, trying to show off his toned arms and back. 

      "Good morning," she said with a smile. 

      "It is now," he replied brightly.

      As Colin stumbled into his kitchen, he asked through another yawn, "Do you drink coffee?" After a pause, he quickly added, "I mean, I know that you can. But, uh, do you like to? Drink coffee in the morning, that is?" 

      Claire broke into a huge grin, making his heart skip a beat. "If you're already making, I'll take a cup." 

      She stood at the counter and watched curiously as Colin placed a kettle onto his stove and lit a match. He took beans from a sealed container and dumped them into a silver container. He began to hand grind them.

      "Are you a coffee snob?" she teased. 

      He flushed and scratched his neck. She giggled as he tried not to look embarrassed. "A bit." 

       He was half-awake, and she couldn't help but admire the precision with which he moved. After grinding, he poured the grounds into a matching container and tapped it a few times on the counter. Although the kettle hadn't begun to whistle yet, he took it off the burner and carefully poured a small amount of the water into the silver brewer before placing it back onto the stove. He took out three mugs, placed them next to a ceramic carafe, and turned to grab a glass bottle of cream from his fridge. Like a well-oiled machine, he picked up the silent kettle in one hand and placed the brewer onto the carafe with the other. As he carefully poured the steaming water, he blew out the flame. While the water dripped, he grabbed a container of sugar cubes and placed it next to the cream. He emptied what was left of the kettle into his sink, and like clockwork, suddenly stopped to place the brewer over the third cup, letting the final drops drain into it. As the steam rose off the carafe, he finished cleaning up. 

      The entire house smelled wonderful, and Claire was smiling from ear to ear. Colin finally snapped from his robotic daze as he handed her a mug. "What?" he asked, confused; he was by no means upset to see her so happy. He craved to know why, needing to repeat the action.

      She shrugged, accepting her cup with a sly grin. "You seemed to know what you were doing." 

      "I do it every morning – I'd hope I know how to do it," he replied, fighting the urge to stick his tongue out like a child. 

      Claire added five sugar cubes and a generous helping of cream. He winced as his perfect coffee turned into a beige monstrosity. She noticed his pouting and laughed. "What's wrong?" 

      "You didn't even try any before you, before you defiled it!" He made a show of adding significantly less sugar and cream into his cup.

      Claire laughed again, holding the cup up to her mouth. He watched her, embarrassed by how nervous he was. It was just a cup of coffee. She wiggled her brows mischievously before finally taking a sip. As the hot coffee touched her tongue, she moaned softly; Colin felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sound. 

      "It's the best coffee I've ever had!" she announced. 

      Colin smiled proudly and finished his own cup before going to take a shower.

      When he returned, he walked carefully over to Claire, who looked up from the book she found and watched him intently. She could see the purity in his eyes when he looked at her. The brewing love. The faith. And she felt a tug at her gut, forcing those same feelings from her, but she fought them. The last time she had given in to an innate sense of love, she had been too betrayed. Colin cared about her enough to not push it. 

      He sat next to her, and their knees touched slightly, causing an electric current to run through both their bodies. He leaned forward and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Claire," he began, a bit nervous. "Can I kiss you?" 

      Her heart skipped a beat as her body screamed for her to agree. To launch herself into his lap and give herself completely to his touch. But her guarded mind allowed only a small smile to grace her face as she blushed slightly and leaned into him. Smiling widely, Colin caught her lips on his and gently kissed her. 

      His stomach did somersaults as they touched intimately for the first time. Her lips were so soft and tasted like the lukewarm coffee that sat between them. She was so unbelievably perfect. 

      Claire closed her eyes, taking in the way Colin's fresh, soapy scent surrounded her entire body. He held onto her in the tightest but most loving manner possible. He was so warm. He was always warm. 

      His fingers wrapped in her hair, pulling her closer in, a sudden hunger in his actions. She responded by running her own hands through his wet, overgrown locks before pressing him onto her chest as she laid her back on the rickety pull-out couch. 

      A breathy, bark-like sound came from his chest, startling her. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, which were shining gold. His face was flushed, hotter than the rest of him. "Did I hurt you?" she asked, worry seeping into her dazed voice. 

      Colin chuckled, shaking his head. He moved his lips back into her neck, littering small kisses as he traced his way up to her ear. He whispered, "It was my wolf."

      Confused, she asked again, "Did I hurt him?"

      Colin laughed again, moving off her and wrapping his arms around her body. He pulled her against him and began to stroke her hair, twisting one of the few corkscrew curls that he hadn't ruffled and ruined. He loved the way she felt against his body. "I suppose the books you read wouldn't have covered this very well. It's a pretty closely guarded secret," he was trying to sound serious, but he kept laughing. 

      "What is?" Claire wanted to be annoyed, but she was enjoying herself too much to be. 

      "How our wolves are."