I lifted my head, ever so slightly.
I don’t remember the trip to the next room. Another blink of the eye. Werewolves cross the time barriers. I never knew that before. Or speed. God knows what it is they do. But they can get from point A to point B before I can do much more than blink. It’s a little freaky. One minute they’re behind you. The next, they are staring right down into your soul from six inches in front of you.
That’s why they’re such good hunters, I think. And why they don’t get a lot of guff from other species. Garou mostly have to worry about their own kind. Which is a little sad, when you get thinking about it.
Anyhow, he could have laid me on the bed. I think I half-expected it. But no, once in there, he paused, smelled the air, looked around--then slid me down his body. I felt the ridge of his arousal. It was definitely a road bump to notice.
The way he let me take my feet, I ended up straddling his leg. My thigh lifted, and his hand, of its own volition, wrapped under the fleshy part where my leg connects to my ass--his fingertips only a scant distance, a tickling, teasing nuance from my center. It was very sexy. Since I was wearing a short skirt, his hand on the underside of my thigh, all possessive like that--just felt--like foreplay. A promise. The wait, maybe only seconds, was long enough for the feeling to sink in. I looked up at him--anticipating. Ya know?
Leer…leered down at me. You don’t often hear about men giving sultry looks, but that's what it was. Sultry, sensual. Promising. He licked his lips. I remember that, because I thought…it was like he was getting ready to eat, already savoring the meal.
His head swooped in, pushing mine back, locking lip to lip.
I felt his other hand slide over my hip, up my waist, around my back. I arched into him, wanting my breasts to rub against his body, wanting him to desire me as much as I craved his touch. He tilted over me. The embrace probably looked like something off the cover of a torrid romance. A dip on a dance floor.
When we came up for air, we were both panting again.
Chapter Three
Very slowly, he let go of my leg. Even more slowly, I let it ride down his.
Let me tell you, the guy can kiss. I wanted more of it.
He said, “I didn’t believe it.”
“What?” I was forward. I was already working on unbuttoning his shirt.
He was trembling. That surprised me. I didn’t lift my head--just my eyes. His fingers were sweating. I could feel it through the back of my shirt--and through the hand he now had on my hip. He barely had a hold of me, like he was afraid to get a real grip again.
The kiss--he’d had a hold of me then. But he was fighting something, I could tell. I know now--he was trying not to unleash the beast.
He kind of laughed. It sounded a little like a hoarse dog. “Well…” His fingers on my hip squeezed, ever so slightly. “I’ve been with plenty of women.”
That didn’t surprise me. Big, good-looking guy like that--reeking of his pheromones. I’ll bet they fell at his feet in droves.
I teased, relieved to get the last of his shirt buttons free. “What? You’re not a virgin?” I tsked like it was a bad thing and grinned.
He laughed again. Another show of nervousness.
I pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. There, in glory and moonlight that filtered through the half closed drapes, his upper torso was illuminated. Broad, broad shoulders. Tight vee’d waist. Washboard abs, big deltoids and pectoral muscles. The body of Mr. Universe.
He was tense, too. Like--and this is gonna sound crazy--like maybe he was afraid I wouldn’t be impressed. Like--it mattered if I was attracted.
Forget the man’s to-die-for scent. The fact that we were going to
I don’t remember the trip to the next room. Another blink of the eye. Werewolves cross the time barriers. I never knew that before. Or speed. God knows what it is they do. But they can get from point A to point B before I can do much more than blink. It’s a little freaky. One minute they’re behind you. The next, they are staring right down into your soul from six inches in front of you.
That’s why they’re such good hunters, I think. And why they don’t get a lot of guff from other species. Garou mostly have to worry about their own kind. Which is a little sad, when you get thinking about it.
Anyhow, he could have laid me on the bed. I think I half-expected it. But no, once in there, he paused, smelled the air, looked around--then slid me down his body. I felt the ridge of his arousal. It was definitely a road bump to notice.
The way he let me take my feet, I ended up straddling his leg. My thigh lifted, and his hand, of its own volition, wrapped under the fleshy part where my leg connects to my ass--his fingertips only a scant distance, a tickling, teasing nuance from my center. It was very sexy. Since I was wearing a short skirt, his hand on the underside of my thigh, all possessive like that--just felt--like foreplay. A promise. The wait, maybe only seconds, was long enough for the feeling to sink in. I looked up at him--anticipating. Ya know?
Leer…leered down at me. You don’t often hear about men giving sultry looks, but that's what it was. Sultry, sensual. Promising. He licked his lips. I remember that, because I thought…it was like he was getting ready to eat, already savoring the meal.
His head swooped in, pushing mine back, locking lip to lip.
I felt his other hand slide over my hip, up my waist, around my back. I arched into him, wanting my breasts to rub against his body, wanting him to desire me as much as I craved his touch. He tilted over me. The embrace probably looked like something off the cover of a torrid romance. A dip on a dance floor.
When we came up for air, we were both panting again.
Chapter Three
Very slowly, he let go of my leg. Even more slowly, I let it ride down his.
Let me tell you, the guy can kiss. I wanted more of it.
He said, “I didn’t believe it.”
“What?” I was forward. I was already working on unbuttoning his shirt.
He was trembling. That surprised me. I didn’t lift my head--just my eyes. His fingers were sweating. I could feel it through the back of my shirt--and through the hand he now had on my hip. He barely had a hold of me, like he was afraid to get a real grip again.
The kiss--he’d had a hold of me then. But he was fighting something, I could tell. I know now--he was trying not to unleash the beast.
He kind of laughed. It sounded a little like a hoarse dog. “Well…” His fingers on my hip squeezed, ever so slightly. “I’ve been with plenty of women.”
That didn’t surprise me. Big, good-looking guy like that--reeking of his pheromones. I’ll bet they fell at his feet in droves.
I teased, relieved to get the last of his shirt buttons free. “What? You’re not a virgin?” I tsked like it was a bad thing and grinned.
He laughed again. Another show of nervousness.
I pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. There, in glory and moonlight that filtered through the half closed drapes, his upper torso was illuminated. Broad, broad shoulders. Tight vee’d waist. Washboard abs, big deltoids and pectoral muscles. The body of Mr. Universe.
He was tense, too. Like--and this is gonna sound crazy--like maybe he was afraid I wouldn’t be impressed. Like--it mattered if I was attracted.
Forget the man’s to-die-for scent. The fact that we were going to
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