“If you had a solid pair, I wouldn’t need to.”
On instinct, I lunge forward. But I stop myself before my anger propels me to swing at him. If I don’t remove myself right now, my wolf is going to burst out of my skin. I don't give Dom the satisfaction of smashing my fist into his nose. But damn, do I want to lay into that door again.
Back in the hallway, a shot of panic stops me in my tracks. The chair has been abandoned. But thankfully, Vessa hasn’t gone far. At the end of the hallway, where the balcony railing merges with a wide steel beam, she dances alone. My fury fizzles out instantaneously.
The sight of her hips moving beneath that dress has me in a chokehold. Sparkles from the disco ball reflect off the material, her waist stirring in a fluid motion, hypnotic in the way that I can’t tell if I’m looking at her or a body of moonlit water.
I want to touch her so badly my lungs are screaming. But I can’t. Only a hint of lucidity shines in those smoldering eyes. Eyes that track mine even as she dips and caresses her thighs, fingertips migrating upwards, playfully rolling up the hem of the dress. Merciful Goddess, where did she learn to move like that?
I’d give my right arm just to trail a single finger up her thigh. To press my mouth to her neck. Thatfucking scent—it’s dangerous, dizzying enough to make a chaste man feral. I grow more gluttonous with every inhale. Resisting this woman is a torment in the worst degree. And I haven’t the slightest idea as to what defenses are even possible. Even if I did, my wolf has every intention of sabotaging them.
Right on cue, he punches me in the chest, shoving me forwards. Her hands slink to my sternum, sliding down the center until she grasps my own. She places them on her swiveling ass.
“I can’t stop thinking about these big hands.”
Fuck. Me.My wolf drawls a guttural growl and I stumble backwards.
“Please,” she whispers. “I need you.”
“No,” I huff. “You don’t. You can’t even begin to imagine whatneedfeels like.”
Vessa throws out her hips, tossing her hair with a sultry giggle.
“C’mon. It’s time to go.”
Her answer sends my blood boiling. “Make me.”
Lassoing her in with the coat, I grip her waist with one hand and drape the garment over her frame with the other. Stifling the wolf’s urges, I haul her over my shoulder. She squeals in protest, laughing breathlessly as her dark locks sway all the way to my truck.
Chapter 17
AXE
The moment my eyes blink open, I find my forehead damp. Silverfire, I’ve got to quit sleeping in my clothes. My neck is stiff from my reclined position on the ground, but not nearly as agitated as the rock-hard staff in my jeans. I turn over my shoulder. Vessa is dozing peacefully under the tufted headboard. The influence of Ludone has long faded, thanks to Cora. Last night’s dress has also vanished, replaced by a baggy grey sweater.
Within the confines of my chest, the wolf scrapes against my conscious, pleading to hop in bed and join her. The incessant whining is starting to piss me off. It’s all he does, making excuses to touch her in some capacity. It’s bizarre, given that most of my life, I’ve had an aversion to nuzzling.
My wolf pushes an image from the club to the forefront of my mind: Vessa’s hands trailing sensually down my torso. I peel off my t-shirt, balling it up in my fist.Knock it off, I growl at him.
Sensing a presence, her face begins to stir. I curse under my breath, scanning the room for something to quickly and conveniently tie around my waist. The t-shirt won’t do. I'm left with no choice but to grab the throw blanket at the foot of the bed.
Vessa sits up and rubs her eyes. As she squints at me, color returns to her skin. Her raspberry lips are full and puffy, ripe for a morning kiss. I wonder if that’s what they’d taste like. Raspberries . . .
Why don’t we find out?the wolf teases. On a shallow breath, I shove him back down.
Six weeks,I chide him. I’ll sit on my hands if I must. I’ll do whatever it takes to retain my dominance. One misstep, and she could run for the hills again.
Blinking twice, Vessa’s gaze sweeps across my bare arms and stomach. Her scent shifts as she studies my extensive tattoos. She likes what she sees. Damn it, that isn’t helping. Those pheromones fully awaken my senses, sending my wolf into a panting frenzy.
No, not raspberries. Something sweeter.Darker.
"Hi," she says. Vessa fiddles with the back of her hair but pauses when she realizes what she's wearing. And then looks back up. "Did you?—"
"No," I gruffly insist. "That was Cora.”
She nods to herself. “Guess I’m not over that concussion yet."
"Do you feel up for walking me through what happened?"
