“Hi.” My voice comes out husky. “Is this okay? I know you’re working...”
He’s across the room before I finish. He grips my waist, pulling me against him hard enough to steal my breath.
“More than okay,” he growls against my hair. “I’ve been going crazy all morning.”
“Me too.” I fist my hands in his shirt, breathing him in. This close, the need to bite is overwhelming. “I couldn’t stay away.”
His hands slide up to frame my face. I can feel the tremor in them.
“My self-control is hanging by a thread here.”
“Mine too.” I admit.
He kisses me then, soft and sweet, but I can feel the restraint in it. The careful control. When we break apart, his eyes have gone fully amber.
“Let me finish this batch,” he says, voice like gravel. “Then I can take a break.”
I perch on a stool, watching him work. The sure way he moves around the equipment. The flex of muscle under his shirt. He keeps glancing at me, nostrils flaring, like he’s checking that I’m really there.
Or he’s scenting me.
“You’re getting good at this,” I observe, trying for normal conversation.
“Good teacher.” He makes another note, but his hand shakes slightly. The pencil snaps, and he tosses it aside with a curse. “And I enjoy building things. Creating.”
“It suits you.”
He moves closer, caging me between his arms. The metal stool creaks as I lean back, and his heat surrounds me.
“You know what else suits me?”
“What?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“You. Here. In my space.” His nose traces my jaw, not quite touching. I shiver violently. “God, you smell incredible.”
“Billy...”
The door bangs open then.
We spring apart, but it’s too late. Craig’s standing in the doorway, flanked by two other bears. The temperature seems to drop by ten degrees. His gaze takes in our position, the obvious intimacy.
His sneer is ugly.
“Well, isn’t this cozy. The traitor and his wolf bitch.”
Billy moves instantly. One second he’s beside me, the next, he’s between Craig and me. A living wall of protective fury.
But something’s different for me this time. Instead of fear, I feel rage. Pure, protective rage that has my wolf snarling to the surface.
My vision sharpens. My nails lengthen slightly.
“You need to leave,” Billy says, voice deadly calm. But I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he curls his hands into fists. “Now.”
“Or what?” Craig steps further inside. His buddies spread out, trying to flank us. “You’ll run away again? Hide behind your girlfriend’s skirts?”
“He won’t need to.” The words come from me, but my voice is different. Deeper. I step around Billy despite his attempt to keep me behind him. “You’re the one who’s going to leave.”
Craig’s eyebrows rise. “The scared little wolf found her voice?”
