Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
I cradle her face with one hand, my thumb brushing down her cheek. “You okay?”
She melts forward, almost leaning into me, but not quite. “Yes. Thank you.” She keeps her gaze lowered in that old-school wolf submission to dominance.
I angle her face upward. “Look at me, babygirl. I want those pretty eyes on my face. I don’t need you to show me deference.” You’re my fucking mate.
The moment our eyes lock a zing of electricity shoots through me. I scent her arousal again and barely keep in a groan. I should say goodnight, but I still hesitate. “Do you need anything?”
A long hard fuck?
My teeth in your shoulder?
Yeah, probably not.
“Just some sleep.”
Right. Sleep.
I want to kiss her—badly—but I know she needs space. I settle for dropping a kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, little wolf.”
“Goodnight.” She meets my gaze, but her glance is almost shy.
I wait until she shuts the door behind her before I force myself to move down the hall and into my bedroom.
It’s going to be a long night.
Colleen
I find a toothbrush where Mark told me they would be and brush my teeth and wash my face, staring into the mirror some more, drinking in the changes in my appearance. I look younger. So much prettier. Almost normal. I find a comb and spend some time working it through my hair.
I hear the shower running in Mark’s bathroom.
Back in the guest bedroom, my two pups are both already sound asleep. I kick off my shoes and walk around the bedroom, examining things. The room is basic, nothing personal on the dresser. Tasteful watercolor landscapes of Colorado scenes hang on the walls. They seem to all be by the same artist. I step closer to examine the signature on one. Jeanne Ruhl. His mother? Sister?
I want to go ask. I shouldn’t miss being near a man I only just met, but I do.
Look at me, babygirl.
I love the way he talks to me—that deep voice so gravelly, heavy with sex and desire. He’s a big male—stocky, with thick muscles that bulge under his uniform. I want to see him without the uniform, too. Which is a crazy thought, considering I’ve never taken an interest in a male. I was mated to Dirk far too young to ever want to think about males again.
I start to unbutton my jeans and pull them off, and then a foolish idea takes hold. Rebuttoning my jeans, I open the door and walk down the hall. The sound of the shower has stopped. “Mark?”
His door opens immediately. His short hair is wet, and he’s wearing a soft blue t-shirt and a pair of boxers.
“What do you need, sweetheart?”
You. Being near him again both ignites and settles me. His coffee and leather scent permeates the room. I want more of what he gave to me on the chaise lounge. A glimpse into something carnal and beautiful that I’ve never felt before.
“Um, do you have a t-shirt I could sleep in?” It’s not an excuse. I swear. It’s not. I really just want to get out of these clothes, and I have nothing else to wear.
“Of course.” He holds my gaze as he peels off the one he’s wearing, causing my belly to do flip-flops. His chest appears even broader without the drape of fabric over it, and it bulges with muscles and is dusted with soft, dark curls. The urge to run my fingernails across them makes my fingers twitch.
I lick my lips, and his gaze tracks the movement, his eyes turning silver. I work to swallow as he holds the shirt out to me. “Thank you.” I can’t seem to make myself move to take it out of his hand. To walk back down the hall. All I can do is stare at the gorgeous man standing in front of me.
“Like what you see, babygirl?” His deep rumble washes over me, making all my nerve endings tingle.
Afraid I will tumble forward, into his arms—into his bedroom—I snatch the t-shirt from his outstretched hand and swiftly walk back to my room. When I’m at the door, I stop and look over my shoulder, knowing he hasn’t moved, sensing his gaze on my back. “Yes,” I admit, before I open the door and slip inside, my heart pounding.
I detect a low rumble from him as he shuts his door. A growl, but not the menacing kind.
He wants me.
Dirk didn’t want me. He used sex as another form of violence. It was a cruelty, never for either of our pleasure.
And I don’t want to think about Dirk. I strip down to my panties and pull on Mark’s large shirt, letting his scent wrap around me. I know he gave me this shirt on purpose. So I’d have his scent. He’s trying to trigger my body’s response. To show me he’s my mate.