A self-effacing answer if she ever heard one. God, his eyes. They caught hers and she couldn't look away. The depth of his stare pinned her to the spot. Her rapture lasted only a moment when Kellen pushed out of his chair. Before she realized what was happening, he was by her side. Spinning her chair to face him, he squatted down in front of her. He pulled his hands off the chair, so there was no chance of them touching. Good thing too, because at that moment, jumping the boss became a real possibility.
"My wolf," he said, his voice soft and breathy as if in absolute wonder, "He's been bouncing around my skull ever since you wandered into this place. We knew you were here even before I stepped behind the bar. Keeping my back to you and pretending to take inventory was nearly impossible. You're a wolf shifter. You have to be. There's no reason for my wolf to react to you so powerfully unless you were."
"What are you saying?"
"My wolf wants yours."
"My wolf is dead." As if he needed reminding.
He shook his head. "I don't believe that and neither does my wolf."
"Well, I do." She pushed the chair back, away from him, but not so far that he couldn't reach out for her if he wanted. "I didn't ask for this, and I don't want it."
Kellen tilted his head. It was such a wolf-like gesture that Samara could almost see his wolf, along with his confusion, in his eyes. "I wish I could make this easier for you, but I'm not going to lie to you either. Your wolf is still in there somewhere. I don't know why you can't sense her or why your own senses are diminished, but I'm scared for you. If you keep acting like a human and your wolf suddenly reappears, it could be disastrous for both of you if you're not prepared."
Denial overtook her good sense. Damn it, she had just gotten settled into routine, and she truly enjoyed working with Carlie and George. "I took down more of the Riverside pack than you ever have, and I did it without being prepared. I'll be just fine. And if I have to swallow another gallon of silver, I'll do it."
"Please don't." He reached up and gently touched her face, his fingers running over her lips. "There's still so much life you have to live. Cutting it short because you've become something you don't understand is heartbreaking."
That word broke her. Her heart raced and her blood roared in her ears.
She wanted Kellen, but it wasn't enough.
"You say your wolf wants mine. What about you? Do you, Kellen Maratto, want me, or are you just a slave to an animal that would mate with any female in your pack?"
Oh, she touched a nerve judging by how fast his face changed from gentle wolf to rock solid hard wolf shifter charged with desire. "I am no slave, and my wolf wouldn't force me to mate with someone I didn't love."
"That had better be the truth." She couldn't stand it any longer, so she leaned forward, grabbed Kellen's shoulders, and yanked him forward into a kiss that seared her soul.
Chapter
Eight
Oh boy, could that man kiss, and kiss, and kiss. By the time he took a breath, she imagined her lips had turned from blue-tinged to glossy red. Because she also needed a chance to breathe, he slowed down, forcing her with him. He trailed a string of nibbles down her neck right to her pulse. It was as if a light switch turned on and her entire sex drive doubled.
She didn't just want him at that moment. She needed him. Hard and fast, on the floor, on the desk, it didn't matter. Sitting in the guest chair was becoming more awkward, limiting her ability to press against him so she could feel every inch of his restrained muscles against her own.
Without warning, Kellen wrapped his arms around her back and slipped his hands under her backside. That made her squirm closer, opening her legs as much as the chair allowed. Realizing there was a sharp barrier between them, she reached under her shirt and unclipped her knife, letting it fall to the floor. It still wasn't enough, but Kellen took care of that problem with one swoop as he lifted her out of the chair, settling her against his chest. Automatically, Samara wrapped her legs around him. Now she could feel just how much he wanted her.
Sex on a desk sounded great in theory, but it was too small for any real activity. Kellen must have realized that, because he whirled her around, his lips never stopping, until he'd maneuvered her against the back wall. With her trapped between his chest and the wall, he released her backside and jammed one knee under her to keep her balanced. With his hands free to roam, he skimmed up her torso and found her breasts. For a fleeting moment, his hands massaged her soft flesh, but then he teasingly changed tactics, and used only his thumbs to rub her nipples.
Oh heavens!
The powerful desire between them continued to climb upward toward a peak she could reach without even removing her jeans.
The loud bang of a pot falling on the floor of the kitchen followed by some creative Navy cursing interrupted their bliss. Kellen pulled his lips away and stilled his hands. Samara could do nothing but moan her frustration and claw at his back, trying to regain the friction she'd lost.
It was too late; the connection she'd felt with him snapped.
"I'm so glad you closed the door," he whispered, his breath tickling her nose, slipping his hand back under her backside to keep her supported.
"Me too." She wiggled herself around, trying to get his hands moving again, but they remained annoyingly still. "I feel safe with you. Safe enough to close the door."
He waited another beat. "I'm going to lower you now. You'll want to drop your legs so you don't fall."
"Why?" It sounded like a cry of desperation to her ears. "This was so perfect."
He didn't respond, so she lowered her legs, and he released her from his embrace.
