You going back to the apartment? Brandy immediately texted back.
Lana didn’t bother to lie. No, I’m heading over to see Max. We need to talk.
There was no response for several long seconds, but when it came, it was slightly different than she expected.
Good. That’s what you should have been doing instead of coming out to the club with us.
Lana threw back a thumbs-up emoji, then flagged down a cab. Giving Max’s address to the driver, she settled into the backseat, trying to figure out exactly what the hell she was going to say to him.
She still had no answer to that question when the cab pulled up in front of his apartment building fifteen minutes later. By the time she paid the driver and walked upstairs to his place, she decided less talk and more action was called for in this case.
Max jerked open the door before she could ring the bell. He was wearing a pair of black athletic shorts, his hair was sticking up, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, but he’d never looked more handsome. Why the hell had she ever walked away from him?
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She knew she probably looked more than a little rumpled after her mad dash through downtown and that tumble along the gravel-covered rooftop, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to get into any of that at the moment. There was more important stuff to cover first.
Holding his gaze, she held up her right hand and let her claws extend. She’d discreetly practiced the move in the backseat of the cab on the way over and had been shocked at how easy it was to make her claws extend and retract by doing little more than tensing her fingers.
“I know everything.” She stepped inside and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry I ran away from you.”
She felt him take a deep breath, as if he was about to say something in reply, but she hadn’t come here to talk. They could do that later. When they talked about all kinds of stuff—like how she’d become a werewolf. Right now, she needed to be with the man she loved like he was the air within her lungs.
Reaching up, she tangled her hand in his rumpled hair, jerking his mouth down to hers. Then she kissed the hell out of him, trying to say with a single touch of her lips something that would likely take a thousand words.
Her body immediately began to tingle all over, and Lana felt her claws and fangs slide out. She simply couldn’t help it, and besides, it felt so right. Even so, she pulled back, worried about cutting Max’s tongue. Then she saw his fangs were out, too, and his eyes were glowing so bright they lit up the dim entryway.
He reached out and kicked the door closed behind her, then his mouth was on her neck, nibbling and kissing her there, driving her crazy. She heard a deep growl coming from his throat before she realized she was raking his back with her nails. She started to apologize but stopped as he slid his hands under her shirt and pushed it up. Things got a little wild after that, as clothes flew everywhere and claws gently raked across naked skin.
Then her back was pressed up against the door and Max’s cock was sliding deep inside of her. The pleasure was so intense she feared her growls would force the neighbors to call the police—or animal control.
Biting her fist in an attempt to hold in the noise wasn’t going to be enough, but she had to do something. So she once again followed her instincts, sinking her fangs into the muscles of his shoulder.
Growling, Max slammed into her so hard she thought the door behind her might shatter. But any concerns about that disappeared when she felt her orgasm approaching like a speeding train. Lana wrapped her legs around his powerful body and held on tight.
She was home. Where she was supposed to be.
* * *
“So I’m a werewolf,” Lana murmured as she sat astride his hips and grazed her extended nails across his chest, watching with fascination as her claws left light welts on his skin that faded almost immediately.
It took a minute for Max to reply. He was too busy catching his breath. They’d made love for nearly three hours straight, and this was the first time they’d slowed down enough to talk.
Talking was so frigging overrated.
Lana wiggled back and forth on his hips as she waited for his answer. Even after making love like two overly caffeinated Tasmanian devils, one little sexy move of that ass was all it took to get him going again. He couldn’t believe he was ready for more. But the night was still young, so anything was possible.
He was pleasantly tired, his body completely wrung out. He had bite marks on his neck and shoulder, not to mention claw marks on his chest and back. Most were shallow, but he felt a few on his back that might take a day or so to heal up completely.
The urge to mark Lana the same way she’d marked him had been intense, but she was a beta and wouldn’t heal as fast as he did. Still, he’d left a few reminders on her skin she was going to notice for a while. He couldn’t be sure without coming straight out and asking her, but he had the feeling she kind of liked the way those marks looked on her perfect skin. Possession was nine-tenths of the law after all, and it definitely felt like Lana was his now, the same way he belonged to her.
“Yup,” he said in answer to her question, feeling himself getting harder under her rocking hips. “An extremely sexy werewolf.”
Lana smiled but didn’t say anything. Instead, she lifted her hands and stared at her fingers, her claws extending and retracting over and over. Damn, her claws were so cute. Shorter and daintier than an alpha’s or omega’s, but still long enough to do some damage if she wanted to. His back was a stark testament to that fact.
Suddenly, Lana jumped off him, moving so fast she almost damaged the part of his anatomy that had been trying to get her attention. She stood beside the bed and stared at her feet, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Why won’t my toenails extend like my fingernails?” she asked, her face screwing up in effort as she looked down at her bare feet.
