“No, you don’t,” Jesse growled in my ear. His spicy, masculine scent enveloped me. Stubble scraped my cheek. Still moving backward, he hauled me past the secretary’s desk.
As I flailed in his grip, the door leading to the hallway outside slowlyshut itself.
Fear spiked, and I clawed at Jesse’s forearm. But he wore a thick sweatshirt, and my efforts were useless as he spun and marched me into Welch’s office. Morning sunlight splashed the beige walls and Welch’s empty desk. The scent of stale aftershave and artificial cherry hit my lungs. I kicked harder, the heel of my sneaker nailing Jesse in the shin. He took three swift steps forward and released me.
I whirled, my fist already flying. My blow connected with nothing but air, my momentum swinging me around in an awkward stumble that left me facing Welch’s desk.
Jesse sat behind it, his ankles crossed on the surface like he’d been there the whole time. But he fucking hadn’t. He’d moved too swiftly for me to track.
He wore his ball cap, jeans, and a dark blue sweatshirt with a faded “Syracuse” printed across the chest. Once again, his ballcap was pulled low. As I struggled to catch my breath, he pushed up the brim with a long finger.
Bright yellow eyes glowed like twin suns.
He flicked his gaze to a spot over my shoulder. A second later, the door creaked behind me. I turned my head in time to see it snick shut. The click of the lock was like a gunshot in the quiet room.
Heart beating triple time, I faced Jesse once more. His lips curved, revealing fangs and a smile that loosened my knees.
“Come closer, college boy. You and I are going to have a little talk.”
Chapter
Seven
JESSE
The burnt tire scent of fear rolled off Caleb as he stood frozen in the middle of the dean’s office.
Good. The devious little shit was right to be afraid. He had no fucking clue how unstable he was—or how much danger he put us both in every second he ran around unaccompanied by a werewolf strong enough to keep him under control.
I’d throttled my wolf last night to avoid breaking his mind. But the gloves were off now. As he watched me, his heart fluttering, I smiled big enough to show my lengthened incisors.
His chest expanded as he drew a deep breath. The scent of fear thickened, but anger joined it, the whiff of hot metal unmistakable. Suddenly, his nose wrinkled, bunching his spray of golden freckles. He squeezed his hands into fists at his sides.
Ah. He’d scented Andrew Welch’s aftershave. With practice, he’d learn to tolerate artificial fragrances. But he didn’t have the least bit of practice.
Although, he was quite the accomplished escape artist.
I let the full force of my wolf blaze through me as I stood and pointed to one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Sit.”
Caleb made a sound like he’d just swallowed his tongue. But he sprang into action so quickly it was almost comical,stumbling to a chair and sitting hard. He gripped the armrests with both hands, his knuckles white with tension. Two spots of color burned on his cheekbones. He looked at the wall behind me before slamming his gaze to the carpet. A beat later, he darted another look at the wall.
What the hell? I turned, following his gaze to the fraternity paddle engraved with Greek letters. Understanding bloomed, and I couldn’t hide what was probably a wry smile as I turned back to Caleb. “These religious types always tell on themselves, don’t they?”
Caleb lifted his gaze, his wolf bleeding into his eyes and taking them from baby blue to a shade so pale it was almost colorless. He probably didn’t realize it, but his wolf recognized Welch’s scent, and it wanted to find its prey and finish the kill.
I rounded the desk and sat on the edge, my foot dangling near Caleb’s knee. He glanced at the juncture of my thighs like he couldn’t help himself. Which, of course, he couldn’t. Not with the connection his wolf had forged between us. I wasn’t above using it to my advantage, so I spread my legs a little wider.
Caleb’s throat worked as he swallowed. A blush spread under those charming freckles and down his cheeks. The rich, smoky scent of his lust thickened the air, blunting the astringent bite of Welch’s aftershave.
My sweatshirt pulled taut across my shoulders as I folded my arms. “Word of advice. Don’t run from a more experienced werewolf.” I leaned forward. “Right now, that’severywerewolf, pup.”
His hands on the chair’s armrests tightened as he shifted his gaze to my thigh. “Don’t call me that. And drop thecollege boyshit, too.”
“What should I call you? Because right now, you’re an untrained wolf running loose in a college town, and that’s aproblem for both of us. Trust me, you don’t want to find out what happens when a wolf loses control before their first shift.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“If you cuss at me again, I’ll bend you over this desk and heat your ass with that paddle you can’t stop fantasizing about.”
