The Werewolf Meets His Match

This time he touched his nose to hers and whined softly.

He was courting her, wolf-style.

And it was working.

If they’d been in human form, she would have jumped him. As it was, she was barely holding on to decent behavior. She got to her feet and shook her head. He bowed on his front legs and shook his head, too, flicking his ears back.

He understood.

He took off in a gentle trot, then stopped and looked back at her. She joined him, and he started up again.

They stayed side by side until they returned to his house, then he shook himself back into his human form.

She did the same, the excitement of the run electric in her blood. Like all shifters, their clothes and pelts exchanged places when they shifted unless they’d started out in nothing but skin. When she was alone in familiar woods that was her first option. But being naked with Hank? That wasn’t a bridge she was ready to cross. Not when she’d started this run. Now, with the night air draping her like silk, being naked with Hank seemed like a grand idea.

She tipped her head back and inhaled deeply, trying to rid herself of the throbbing need pushing her closer and closer to action. Action that would take her down a path there would be no returning from. She sighed. “That was a great run.”

He grunted affirmatively.

She glanced at him.

From the smoldering gold in his eyes, he needed something more.

Her.

Hank only barely kept himself from lunging at her. “Go inside.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Not yet.” He shouldn’t have played with her like that. Being so close to her in wolf form had only aroused an unquenchable need. He’d known that was a risk and yet, he’d done it anyway. Running with her, going wolf with her, had made denying that side of himself impossible. She was too large a temptation. And he’d given in. He just hadn’t bargained on how strong his desire for her would be. “I need to run.”

She shook her head, the slightest hint of gold dancing in her eyes. “We just ran.”

“It wasn’t enough.” Actually, it had been too much. Too much inhaling her scent and sharing her space combined with the pull of the moon and the power of the night. He ached with wanting her. Ached to claim her as his mate, right then and there.

But that was too much, too soon. He didn’t make rash decisions. About anything. There was a right way and a wrong way to do things, and he always chose the right way.

That was what any good alpha would do.

Her eyes flashed gold, and she took a step toward him, hips swaying with the kind of deliberate movement that told him she understood exactly what he was feeling. “And if you don’t run?”

He swallowed, fists tight at his sides. “I won’t sleep.”

She swayed closer. “Maybe I won’t sleep either.”

He did the impossible and backed up. No matter what he was feeling, this decision was hers to make. “I want you, Ivy.” Understatement of the year. “I think you can tell. But it’s too soon. I think you know that, too.”

She took another step toward him, head lowering as she took a breath. “What I know is the moon is making me crazy.” Her eyes went full gold, and she massaged the back of her neck. “I feel like I’m in heat around you. Which isn’t a bad thing, considering we’re about to be married.”

He stopped retreating, mesmerized by the play of moonlight on the curves of her body. Someday, when they were married, they were going to do the run the right way. Clothes-free. The thought caused his fists to press hard against his thighs. Breathing normally became a concentrated effort. Standing there without making a move became a timed event. Another minute and his reserve would be gone. She deserved to know that. “My control is almost shot.”

She came closer still. “Control is overrated.”

The muscles in his jaw twitched. Desire owned him. Somehow, he made rational words come out of his mouth. “We should get to know each other better.”

An inch, maybe two separated them. She didn’t touch him, maybe because she knew that if she did, that would be the end of this conversation. She tipped her head back and stared into his eyes. “What better way to get to know each other could there be than giving in to the moon’s pull?”

His body tightened, every fiber taut with need. His voice came out a gruff scrape. “Are you saying yes?”

She nodded. Her lids were heavy with desire as her lips parted. “Take me to bed, Hank.”

He was very good at following orders.

She’d lost her head to the full moon fever. Hard. Ivy stood at the living room windows, her gaze lost in the tangle of trees at the edge of Hank’s property line. Dawn was still minutes away, but she’d been unable to sleep.

She plucked at the hem of his borrowed t-shirt with her free hand, her other wrapped around a cup of coffee that wasn’t doing enough to perk her up. His scent surrounded her, not just on the t-shirt but on her skin. Every inhalation reminded her of the man she’d come here to marry. And deceive.

Steam curled up from her coffee cup. Her sigh pushed it away.

She hadn’t wanted to sleep with him—well, she had, but not like this. Not while she was still holding back the truth about Charlie. It felt wrong to give herself to Hank that way when she wasn’t being honest with him.

Couldn’t be honest with him.

Damn her father and his cruel, manipulative ways.

Now, when Hank found out, he’d think she’d slept with him in an attempt to snare him deeper in her web. And that might make him feel used. Might make him hate her.