Awakened By The Wolf. Kristal Hollis

ached for a kiss and so much more. Her taste on his tongue, her scent on his skin, her luscious legs wrapped around his hips. A deluge of erotic dreams had eroded his resolution to keep things platonic.

      Cassie’s scent wove a spell of need and want that smothered reason. Helpless to resist, he slipped his arm around her waist and lowered his face to hers. She squinted and puckered her mouth, but not to receive his lips.

      The unexpected rejection jolted Brice. “What’s wrong?”

      “I don’t want this.” She gestured a between-you-and-me hand signal. “I have plans for the future and you’re not in them.”

      Damn. That stung.

      Even though he agreed they had no future together, he disliked hearing her say it.

      “You need ground rules.” Cassie wormed out of his hold and faced him with a straight back, squared shoulders and both hands on her hips.

      Her eyes slanted with censure. She pointed her jaw and scrunched her mouth like his fourth-grade teacher when he’d neglected to do his homework three days in a row. When he’d been a wolfling, the no-nonsense, better-get-your-shit-together look had mortified him into compliance. Now that he was an adult male in his prime, that look on a feisty, petite human female did something entirely different.

      “I don’t like rules.” He smiled.

      “Too bad.” Cassie’s frown deepened. “Rule number one, no more prancing around naked.”

      “Why?” Brice leaned back against the counter, stretched his legs in front of him and crossed his ankles. “Are you afraid you’ll jump me? Fuck me until I’m senseless? Go ahead.” He held up his arms in surrender. “I won’t resist.”

      Cassie’s mouth opened in a silent gasp. The pinkness of her skin surpassed the shades he’d seen last night, and he wondered how far he could push before her choke hold on her passion broke.

      “Where would you like to start? The bedroom? The living room?” Brice moved in front of her, hooked his finger beneath her jaw and tipped her face up. “Right here in the kitchen?”

      Soft, rapid puffs flared Cassie’s nostrils. The delicate vein beneath the porcelain skin of her neck pulsed with an escalating canter. Her pupils grew large and dark. “Um.” She moistened her lips.

      The scent of her budding desire reached his nose, but the disconcerted hesitancy in her eyes cooled his urgency. He wouldn’t press her to do something she’d regret.

      “When you’re ready, tell me where you want me. I’ll be there.” Primed and panting. He walked to the sink and filled a glass to the rim with cool water. Pacing himself with small sips, he took his time draining the contents, giving Cassie opportunity to collect herself and him a chance to dam up the flood of testosterone gushing through his body.

      Cassie audibly huffed. “Behavior like that is why you will adhere to rule number one.”

      Brice set the glass in the sink and turned around.

      “And I’m not doing your laundry as a concession for you wearing clothes,” she snapped.

      God, he really liked her fiery spirit. If only they’d met a lifetime ago.

      “Do I get bargaining privileges?” he teased.

      “No. Since neither of us wants to sleep in your grandmother’s room, pick either the couch or the bed. And stay there.”

      “Not a debatable issue,” he said sternly. “Where I sleep, you sleep.” Her scent kept the nausea at bay, and he’d do everything in his power to circumvent the crippling sickness, including tying her to the bed. Though he really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She’d demonstrated her trustworthiness by not reporting his trespass to his father. He’d hate to repay her loyalty by turning her into a prisoner.

      A ferocious frown sharpened her jaw.

      “It’s only for a few days, Cas. Something about your scent keeps me from becoming violently sick. I barely made it through the day without you beside me.” A slight stretch of the truth, but he wasn’t about to explain how he had improvised.

      Her expression softened. Mostly her eyes, which warmed the icy stare sharpened on him.

      “Fine.” She anchored her hands to her hips. “But stay on your side of the bed and stop looking at me like I’m a ham at Easter.”

      “Great.” Brice loosely clasped his hands the same way he did when he’d successfully mediated an important issue during a negotiation. “What are the other rules?”

      “Hmm?” Cassie’s attention returned to the pantry.

      “We agreed on the first rule. Are there more?”

      “Yes, but I’ll have to let you know when I think of them.” Cassie’s posture stooped a little. She grabbed a bowl for her ramen noodles, and he wondered how long it had been since she’d eaten a substantial meal.

      “I’ll make dinner tonight,” he said. The chicken he’d found in the fridge during his lunch raid needed to be cooked before it went bad.

      “You can cook?”

      “Of course. Do you think I have a personal chef?”

      From her sheepish expression, it appeared she did.

      “Mamie taught me.” The best cook the resort ever had. God rest her soul. “I’m not as good as she was, but I’m in no danger of starving. You, on the other hand, could use a few good meals.”

      The playful tease Brice intended flopped. Cassie stared at him as if he’d popped her with the back of his hand.

      “I do the best I can with what I have. Not all people have a co-op to take care of them.” She smacked the ramen noodles package against his chest and stormed out of the kitchen.

      “Whoa.” Brice netted her in his arms.

      “Let me go.” Cassie’s struggle lacked the hellcat fierceness of last night’s battle.

      Brice held her tight and stroked her hair. “Bad day?”

      “I’ve been a freaking mess.”

      “Why? What happened?”

      “You happened.” Her long, heavy sigh scraped his bare chest. “I kept imagining everyone with fangs and fur and eyeballing me because I know their wolfy secret.”

      He rolled a silky curl around his finger. “No one wants to hurt you, Sunshine. Wahyas are ordinary people who live ordinary lives.”

      “Ordinary people don’t maul each other.” Her finger trailed down a scar on his arm.

      “Have you seen the news? Violent crimes occur in every society. Ours included. There are good Wahyas and bad, same as humans. We aren’t that different.”

      “Except for the teeth, the tails, the paws and all that hair.” The electric charge in her tentative smile pulsed along every single nerve in Brice’s body.

      His heart thundered. His skin itched for her touch, and his insides jittered. “Anytime you’re feeling a little wolf envy,” he murmured, “you can pet mine. He’ll even do tricks if you whisper in his ear and stroke his belly.” Or something a little bit lower.

      “No way, Benji.” Cassie’s tinkling laugh encouraged him.

      “Too bad.” Brice buried his face in her hair. Inhaling slowly and deeply, he allowed her scent to swirl along his senses.

      Suddenly he clasped her cheeks between his hands. “I can smell the resort.”

      “From here?” Her cute button nose wrinkled.

      “On you.” He picked her up and swung her in a circle. “Your hair smells like cinnamon and cloves.”

      “That’s