5: Hood - Pack Trust Read Free Page A

arms. I know they’re gearing up to hunt him down. That’s why I’ve got to find them first. They’re gonna climb off an airplane or a boat somewhere and face a frigging death squad.
     
     
    I’m not just looking out for their lives. I have other reasons why I need to be the one to find them first. Not to mention Hood would reward me big time for that.
     
     
    That thought literally makes me wet.
     
     
    Who’s purring? Me? Or him? I swear he can smell every change in my body chemistry. Gotta distract him.
     
     
    He doesn’t talk a lot, actually. A man of action. One of those guys who carries silence around like a gun, so you end up running your mouth, telling him everything you know? That’s the big grip a girl has to learn. How to play poker with a straight face.
     
     
    Getting him to talk is a trick in itself. So, conversation--
     
     
    “Ah, man, you can keep that up all night.” It came out on a sigh, I know, but I can’t help it. He’s doing magic on me. It was the best I could come up with.
     
     
    Never stopping, he leans to my ear and kisses just below it, pausing to inhale right before he does it. That’s the wolf in him. Always gotta appreciate. How sexy is that?
     
     
    I’m telling you, there is no defense from a garou in a mood, and I can tell by his approach what he wants. As much as he’d like me to find his sister, Hood is all over being a man with instinct in overdrive.
     
     
    He probably smelled me the minute he walked in the door on the bottom floor. I was down there just a little bit ago, getting a little fresh air. Watching the parking lot for him, wondering where he was.
     
     
    I’m always thinking about sex with him. Hot and hungry. Lonely and needing attention from him. No one else really does it for me. So what if he sniffs a bit, catches a whiff, then beelines it for me because that’s in the air? Or because sex is one of his main drives? I’m cool with it. I mean, I’ll take what I can get.
     
     
    Trying real hard to pretend disinterest, I shrug, click another screen.
     
     
    Thank God he doesn’t stop.
     
     
    His lips trail down my throat, forcing me to close my eyes, tip my head and moan. He answers that with a little growl. One of those things that come from deep down in his ribcage. I can tell he’s just starting to get his fire going.
     
     
    I’ve gotta make him work for it. Fighting the urge to turn into his arms, I struggle to lift my eyelids and click again.
     
     
    “I don’t know how you do it, Giselle.” It sounds like silk, sleek seduction. I love to hear my name on his lips.
     
     
    “Mm.” Yeah, it sounds more like reciprocal appreciation. I’m telling you, it’s impossible not to swoon. He’s got his hands on me, and his lips on my neck. I force myself to add, “What’s that?” My voice is husky.
     
     
    He’s talking about going without sex for days. If I’d had it, he’d be able to smell it on me.
     
     
    Lips back at my ear, he says, “Come to bed.”
     
     
    I want desperately to know where he’s been. I can smell more than one female on him. I try not to focus on that. But I don’t have much luck. I’m jealous and hurt over it. I wonder if he does that to make me angry? Sleep with someone else, more than one woman, and then come to me. He knows I can tell.
     
     
    You can’t be bitten and not have heightened senses. It’s the first gift of the curse. You can smell everything, and from a mile away. And your eyesight gets better. Your stamina improves. Your muscle tone firms up. That may be from your increased urge to run.
     
     
    I can’t say anything about where he’s been. I’m not his keeper. And he doesn’t like being questioned. It’s a real good way to get myself on his bad list. Been there. Hated that.
     
     
    He reads my mind. So I have to concentrate when he’s with me. Reading the names. Just do the introspective thing in between--when he’s miles away from me. But still, he knew I was pissy