Skin Deep Read Free Page B

Understand?”
    Kira huffed and tossed her head before settling onto Angelique’s plush bathroom rug. She winced, but cat hair was nothing compared to Kira potentially hurting someone or, worse yet, showing herself.
    Angelique shut Kira into the bathroom and headed back toward the bedroom door. She placed her ear against it and listened.
    “You shouldn’t have come here. What the hell were you thinking?” Connor’s voice was gravelly and low again.
    Monica’s heels tapped on the hardwood floor. “What was I thinking? What was I thinking?” She laughed. “I’m not the one that should have to answer that question. You’re pathetic coming here. You could have something so much better with me. I want you, and I understand you. Do you think she’ll ever understand or care about you the way I do? Do you? You’re wasting your time. Not too much longer, and—”
    A fierce growl curled beneath the door, and if Angelique hadn’t had her ear pressed against it, she would’ve thought it had come from Kira in the bathroom, except again…it sounded more canine. “How dare you! Get out of here. Now.”
    “Make me. Obviously, you’re set on staying here, but I won’t make it easy for you.”
    Angelique wanted to punch her in her perfect nose. Jealousy hit her in the gut like a sledgehammer. Shit.
    She still loved Connor.
     

Chapter Two
     
     
    Connor couldn’t believe he’d been so close to having at least a tolerable evening with Angelique for the first time in too long, and now he had to deal with Monica. When Angelique had first left him, he’d rebounded with the other woman, but he’d quickly recognized his mistake. Monica didn’t know when to accept that it was over. She was a werewolf, like him, and in her mind, they made a perfect match.
    He couldn’t stand her snobbish ways. And while she was beautiful, she didn’t know when to just shut up. They could never be mates.
    Monica stared him down and cocked her chin up a notch, daring him to do something. She knew he didn’t like to hit women. That was part of his upbringing, something he cherished, but if she didn’t back down and act sensible about this, she’d test his patience.
    No, there had to be a way around that. He didn’t want to fight. When werewolves fought, it wasn’t in human form. And wolves didn’t care about things like damaged furniture or lamps.
    He hefted her over his shoulder, and she let out a surprised gasp. She didn’t do anything for a moment, whether she was too stunned or because she liked it, he didn’t know. When he rushed to the door, her fists smacked against his back and she bucked in his arms.
    “Set me down, damn it. Don’t make me fucking hurt you,” she shouted.
    He reached for the doorknob, but her legs slammed into him hard, driving air from his lungs. His grip on her slipped, and she landed, wobbling on her stilettos. How she kept her balance in those, he’d never know. Her palms slammed into his chest, driving him back a few steps.
    His eyebrows rose. Maybe he’d underestimated her ability to fight. She’d taken advantage of his distraction well.
    Her lips quirked into a wicked smile—the same look that had driven him to her, but he wouldn’t let it affect him now. Right now, he needed to get her out of here.
    “Come on. Don’t make me fight you.” He nodded his head toward the door. “You know it wouldn’t go well.”
    Her smile turned into a frown, and anger lit up her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you. Your absence has made me a stronger person. I’ll fight for you, even if I have to fight you .” She balled her hands into fists. Her petite shoulders tensed, and she stabbed her finger into his chest. “You could do so much better than that piece of trash. I mean look at this place—”
    Before he could stop himself, he grabbed her by the arm, twisting it behind her back hard enough to drive a gasp from her lips. He tossed open the door and swung her through it. “Get out of here,