“I love her bluntness,” Jen said absently but then quieted.

“And because of those things, I want to be close to him. But the only thing I’ve longed for in my life was my freedom. It’s all I thought about. Every moment of every day. It was a desperate cry of my soul and nothing, no desire, had ever surpassed it until Drake. I crave him. I want to feel him. It’s like his touch would be able to quench my thirst. It’s intense, but I accept it. I even welcome it. For once, I have something I never ever thought I would have—a future. I thought I was going to die in those tunnels with those monsters. And now, now, I actually have hope.”

The room was silent when she finished talking until Jacque finally spoke up. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Okay,” Jen said, suddenly all business. “You said he won’t touch you because he doesn’t think you know what all that could lead to, correct?”

She nodded.

“He’s got some hang-up that if he touches you, it’s like touching a seven-year-old girl.”

“Ew,” Jacque groaned. “Don’t say that.”

“No,” Jen smacked Jacque. “I’m not saying he’s a perv or anything. I’m saying he sees her mental state as innocent, like a child’s. I’m sure he doesn’t actually think of her as a child.”

“I’m not seven,” Bethany said adamantly.

“Sweetie, with tattas like those” —Jen motioned to her chest— “it’s quite apparent that you aren’t seven. You’re what, a D, a double D? I don’t remember what size bra I gave you. Point is, you’ve got goods and he’s noticing them. But he can’t reconcile the goods with the young girl who was taken eleven years ago and kept from being a part of a world where she would have matured naturally and learned about these things. You see?”

“I guess. But I don’t feel like a young girl. I feel old.”

“Well, that’s to be expected. You’ve been through more crap than most people will ever face in a lifetime. So in some ways you are very mature. We just need little Drakey to see that.”

“Don’t call him little Drakey,” Jacque said dryly. “Ever.”

Jen pressed on ignoring the redhead’s comment. “So let’s start your education. Let’s get you knowledgeable so that Drake no longer feels like a creeper around you.”

“Again, ew,” Jacque said.

“And, you will be able to decide, after learning about these things, whether or not you’re truly ready to complete the Blood Rites and be joined with him. It might be that after we unveil the mysteries of the sexual world, you decide that you need some time, like years, to process it. If that’s the case, then Drake will have to wait those years to be intimate with you, because, sorry, honey, in my crib, people have to seal the mated deal before they get to roll around in the sheets.”

“Okay, stop.” Jacque held up her hand. “I swear your analogies get more and more ridiculous.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have my mad communication skills.”

“Yes, I’m totally jealous. I’m jealous of your bedroom activities. I’m jealous of your ability to spew BS. I’m jealous of your black-op skills, your anagram making skills, and, hell, I’m even jealous of your ability to give birth to a baby and not die. Oh please Jen, teach me your ways,” Jacque pled in a breathy, desperate voice. “Please, oh wise one, share your knowledge and skills.”

Jen stared at Jacque with a single brow raised and then turned back to Bethany. “Ignore her,” Jen told Bethany. “And I know you’ve got questions. So let’s go.”

“I do have some questions. Drake said some things when we were arguing. He asked me to name things that married or mated couples do. Of course, all I can think of is kissing and sex. But there’s obviously more. I need to know what that ‘more’ is.” Bethany said. Her face was red and Jen could tell she was hesitant.

Jen looked at Bethany, really looked at her. She was truly dying to learn. She wanted to be with Drake so much that she was willing to sit there with two women she barely knew and talk about things as intimate as love making and all that went with it. Drake was a lucky son of a wolf and Jen was going to happily point it out to him the next time she saw him. Stupid werewolf butthead, she growled to herself.

Well, if Bethany wanted to learn, then Jen would not deprive her of the opportunity. “Does Drake make you feel all tingly in places you aren’t supposed to talk about?”

Jacque choked on the drink she was taking, and Jen patted her on the back while still looking at Bethany.

“Yes,” she answered.

“And, you aren’t sure what to do about the tingling because you don’t know what those things are?” And with that question, the dam broke.

With a huge sigh her mouth opened and out flowed the words that Jen was sure had nearly been choking her. “Exactly. Drake makes me happy. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel things that I don’t understand. I like when he touches me—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Jen interrupted at the same time Jacque said, “Stop there.”

“I thought you said he doesn’t touch you?” Jen asked as she leaned forward and rested her forearms on her knees.

“He holds my hand, he puts his arms around me, he touches my face. There’s no pain when he touches me. But he only touches me certain places. My thigh, where the markings are, for example, he can’t touch me there apparently.”

“Oh, no the markings are like catnip to a cat. Their wolf sees them and all he can think of, at that point, is that you’re his and he wants to claim you. It becomes primal, which is harder for him to control. Okay, so we’ve established he hasn’t touched you, touched you?” Jen asked.

“Touched me, touched me?” Bethany questioned.

“She means has he touched you anywhere that makes you gasp, groan, or turn into a shameless hussy begging for more?” Jacque asked before Jen could answer.

Jen looked over at her best friend. “Wow, being nearly dead changed you.”

Jacque shrugged. “It’ll do that to a person.”

“I feel sort of like that when he kisses me,” Bethany admitted. “I just feel like there’s more. I want more and I don’t understand exactly what that means and he won’t tell me. Every time I ask him, he says that I’m not ready to know those things. He treats me like I’m fragile.”