The couches and chairs in the living room were arranged to best take advantage of the fireplace. Covered with soft throws and bunches of pillows, it was clear that Rafian enjoyed his comfort. When Rafian emerged from the hallway with only a towel around his waist, she nearly dropped the small clay wolf she’d picked up from a table to examine. His hair was slicked back, throwing the bones of his face into sharp relief. He’d shaved off the stubble and his skin was still damp. In short, he looked damn good. “My mother made that.” She blinked, trying to pull her mind out of the gutter and follow the logic of his comment. Glancing down at the clay wolf, she lifted it. “This? It’s nice.” He shrugged. “It’s her hobby.” “Does she have two mates too?” He nodded, walking toward her. “Yes. Adrian and Max.” “Do you know which one is your biological father?” “Not for sure. I have a suspicion, but it doesn’t matter. They’re both my dads.” He took the wolf from her fingers, set it aside, then cupped her jaw in his hands and kissed her slowly, his lips running back and forth over hers before he slipped his tongue into her mouth and stroked up against her tongue.
