Feral Northern Shifters 2

bathroom’s down the hall.”
Bram nodded and, strangely, Ethan hesitated before he reached for Bram, hugged him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Unable to even manage a thank-you, Bram just stared into the tawny gaze and felt like he was drowning.
Then Ethan was gone from the room, and Bram got up and hurried to the bathroom, found a towel and showered. It wasn’t difficult, taking care of his erection in the shower. Shifting made him horny and shifting after three months made it even worse. He understood that it was probably the same for Ethan, but the idea of talking about it was beyond him. He leaned against the shower stall as he came. It didn’t release any tension though, he simply felt more tired and found it harder to focus. He wished he could remember how he’d got here. At least he’d recognized Ethan. Those first few moments, of staring into the face of a beautiful stranger, had thrown him off.
While toweling off, Bram reminded himself that Ethan, despite everything, was glad to see Bram. Ethan had sounded sincere on that subject. He’d sounded sincere about everything. Bram was uneasy about Doug, and should probably not stay long, but company for one evening, after a very long bad patch, was impossible to reject.
Besides, he was starving and exhausted.

Chapter Fifteen
    Bram hovered at the kitchen door as if Ethan might kick him out. It almost made Ethan laugh, given the months he’d spent looking for the wolf, except Bram’s uncertainty was painful to see. Obviously it was going to take some time for him to feel comfortable which was not surprising for any number of reasons.
    Ethan smiled. “Come in. Sit down. I’m not the world’s greatest cook, but I’m a good shopper. The bread and cold cuts are quite good.”
“Oh, I like everything,” Bram assured him a little too earnestly.
Ethan beckoned him, since the wolf wasn’t moving, and Bram walked into the kitchen. The T-shirt he wore was tight across the shoulders and a little short. The narrow line of skin between the top of his sweats and the bottom of his shirt was something Ethan found appealing.
“You don’t have to like everything, as long as you like something. I know you must be starving.” Ethan gestured to the table. “Pull up a chair.”
Movements a little jerky, Bram did. He very carefully took some cold cuts and bread from the communal platters, and his actions looked almost practiced because it had been months. Once Bram started eating there was no time for conversation as he vacuumed in desperately needed food. The downside of shifting was the enormous caloric requirements involved.
Ethan waited until Bram eased up on eating before he came to stand beside him. Bram glanced up, wary. Slowly, Ethan brought a hand to Bram’s shoulder, watched him jump slightly as Ethan traced the shoulder blade.
“Too thin.” Ethan observed Bram’s eyes. The dark pupils went even darker. He felt he knew what the wolf was thinking. Shifters often wanted sex after shifting back to human. It was as if everything in them had been rejuvenated, as if after being an animal they needed to connect to their human, or someone else’s human. An excess of longing—Lila had described it as such once. Back then Ethan had snorted, embarrassed by the topic of sex education that Lila had felt obliged to give, but somehow that description seemed apt now.
However Bram was too skittish for Ethan to make any kind of move. Earlier Bram had attempted to hide his erection.
Well, they had time. Yes, years ago Ethan had enjoyed the game of seduction, but that had been with older, experienced men, humans. Now he was dealing with an inexperienced, nervous werewolf, younger than himself. Not only that, despite his desire, Ethan felt way out of practice.
He dragged a chair over, so he could sit next to Bram. Their legs brushed together and Bram didn’t jump this time, instead his breath hitched.
Ethan nudged Bram’s shoulder with his own. “Are your recent memories coming back?” Memory confusion was common after a shift, but it didn’t necessarily take long for the brain to sort itself out.
Bram nodded, staring down at his hands on the table. Those hands flexed once. “I remember I was protecting you from four wolves.”
“They’re our friends.”
Bram picked up a knife, put it down again. “One is named Trey.”
“That’s right.”
He lined the knife up with the fork, a slight tremor in his hand. “Doug calls Trey the