Her volunteers laughed, understanding a joke that sailed over Jason’s head.
Winona explained. “Rabies vaccines aren’t approved for wolfdog mixes, but I give them anyway. I do what’s best for the animal.”
She gave the wolfdog a drug to revive her, then left her and her pups in the crate with fresh water to rest. “Thanks, everyone, for your help. Heather should be here any minute. I’m going to fill out the paperwork.”
While Winona filled out vaccine certificates, Jason cased out the clinic, looking at its security from a law enforcement perspective, taking photos with his phone. A criminal would have no trouble gaining entrance. Only the back entrance was truly secure. The front door was mostly glass, making it an easy point of ingress, and he had no difficulty forcing the windows open from the outside.
He carried their bags next door to her house and scoped it out, too, finding much the same thing—doors and windows that were easy to force or break, as well as a deck railing that would make it easy for someone to climb into her bedroom.
He couldn’t leave it like this, but none of this was his decision to make. He’d talk to Winona tonight, give her the business card of Nate’s friend in Denver.
As he walked back to the clinic, the truck from the wolf rescue pulled up. He watched as Winona, the volunteers, and the woman from the rescue transferred the still-groggy mother and her pups to a new crate.
Winona handed the woman all of her paperwork. “Thanks, Heather.”
“Any word on the male wolf?”
Winona shook her head. “He ran off when the rangers and sheriff’s deputies approached. I’m worried about him. He might not know how to hunt or fend for himself up there. I’m going to contact wildlife officials and ask what they plan to do.”
“If they catch him, we’ll take him in.” Heather gave Winona a hug. “I need to get Mama and pups settled before dark. See you soon.”
Winona watched them drive away, then let out a relieved breath. “I’m hungry. How about you? Want to head to Knockers?”
He was hungry—for food and something more. “How about we grab something quick and stay at your place?”
“Do you like tacos?”
“Do I like tacos?” Jason stared at her. “I’m O’odham and a Mexican citizen.”
They climbed into Winona’s Outback and drove to a taco truck that was doing a brisk trade, the words Tacos Sabrosos painted on its side—Tasty Tacos.
Winona ordered three tacos with shredded chicken and queso. “No jalapeños. Gracias, Juana.”
“No jalapeños?” Jason had to tease her just a little. “Are they too hot for you?”
Winona lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ll explain in a minute.”
Jason ordered a smothered burrito with the jalapeños, the two of them standing beneath a heat lamp while they waited for their order. “Okay, let’s hear it. What’s the problem with jalapeños that makes you whisper in public?”
Winona leaned closer. “Chaska and Naomi got some food from Juana’s one day, and they were … intimate afterward. Naomi had eaten jalapeños, and the oils from the pepper burned Chaska on his… She says he had to spend an hour with his manly bits in a bowl of milk—which, by the way, is not an image I needed in my mind.”
“Ouch.” Jason winced at the thought of dick-burn and picked the jalapeños off his burrito, leaving them uneaten. “Okay. Agreed. No jalapeños.”
He thought about it for a moment. “Wait. Does this mean you’ve got something specific in mind for later, angel?”
He certainly did.
Chapter 16
Winona and Jason ate their supper at Winona’s kitchen table, talking about everything and nothing. Their shared experience at the Cimarron. How Winona and Chaska had learned to ski. Jason’s first memory of snow.
“I must have been four.” There was a hint of sadness in his smile as he spoke, his hand taking hers. “My mother woke me up early and told me there was snow outside. I had no idea what she meant. I remember her putting a little snowball in my hand. I dropped it because it was so cold. That made her laugh. Then, I discovered that my shoes made prints in this cold, white stuff, so I stomped all over the place.”
Winona smiled, imagining Jason as a tiny child. “You were learning to track already. I bet you were adorable.”
He slipped a hand into his rear jeans pocket, pulled out a leather billfold, and took out a small photo. “This is the only photo I have of my entire family.”
Winona took the photo from him. Three generations stood together beneath some kind of awning made of branches, smiles on their faces, giant saguaros in the background. Jason, the youngest, stood in front of his mother, a bright smile on his face, his mother’s hands resting on his shoulders. “How old are you here?”
“Six or seven.”
“You are adorable.” Winona’s heart broke for that little boy, knowing what lay ahead. “Your mother was beautiful. You have her eyes.”
“That’s what everyone tells me.” He took the photo when she finished with it and tucked it back into his wallet. “I’ve tried seeing her when I look in the mirror, but it doesn’t work.”
Winona stood, held out her hand for him. “Come.”
He took her hand, stood. “Where are we going?”
She led him into the bathroom. “I smell like a wet, dirty wolfdog. I need a shower. I thought maybe you could help me out with that.”
He caught her, drew her against him, nuzzled her neck. “You smell like woman to me, but the idea of getting your body wet and soapy suits me just fine.”
They stripped each other naked and got the water going, Winona making sure it was nice and hot. Then they stepped under the spray together.
Winona wet her hair and reached for the shampoo, but Jason beat her to it.
“Turn around.”
She did as he asked, sighing with pleasure as his fingers massaged her scalp and caressed her nape, sending tingles down her spine. While she rinsed, he washed his hair. Then she reached for the soap.
They lathered each other, hands gliding over soap-slick skin, each seeking ways to please the other. He cupped her breasts, teased her nipples, caressed her bare buttocks, making her blood hot. She explored the planes and ridges of his muscles, took the weight of his testicles in her hand, stroked his erection, her need for him building.
Hot water rinsed soap away, the air thick with steam and sexual need, her skin tingling. Then she traded places with him, looked him in the eyes, and dropped to her knees before him.
His breath hissed from between clenched teeth when she took him into her mouth, his fingers sliding into the tangled, wet strands of her hair. “Win.”
She’d learned a bit about him, and she put it to good use, moving her mouth and hand together along his length, teasing the head of his cock with her tongue, her free hand cupping his balls.
“Jesus, Win.” His fingers fisted in her hair, his hips thrusting, urging her on.
In tune with his response, she picked up the pace, savoring the hard feel of him, remembering how good his cock had felt inside her. His balls drew tight, a sign that he was close to the edge now.