Bewitching the Werewolf (4 page)

She grunted and left, hitching up her pants as the door closed. Chuck chuckled and talked about being in a pickle or stuck in a sandwich or something. I was frankly so shocked my ears were ringing a little and I didn’t catch it.

“
It’s
not
me.”

“
Go outside so we know for sure.”

“
There is absolutely no reason to. It isn’t me.”

He growled again. “What makes you so sure?”

“
Well, I hate doggy-style for one.”

Chuck high-tailed it out the door, and oddly, it made the room seem smaller. Zack was looming over me. He took a step closer and I backed up, ass hitting the security system controls.

“
Then you haven’t done it right.
Go outside
.” His voice was so seductive my nipples turned to stone.

My throat was dry.

I went.

I walked outside, and with every step, I heard an echo in my brain, a little mantra, ‘I’m not his mate’, ‘I’m not his mate’ and every fifth or sixth step would be overlaid with his comment about not doing it right.

Jesus.

Ten minutes later we were told to come back in. Zack was nowhere in sight. What did that mean? I went back to the office, imagining that everyone’s eyes were on me.

Totally imagining it. For a brief moment I wondered what it might be like to be Zack’s mate. The one person in all the world that was meant for him. My eyes got a little teary eyed and I blamed it on the fluorescent lights. He was hot, charming, a leader, funny
, hot
, sure he turned furry every now and again. But once a month I was no picnic either.

But I just couldn’t fathom that it was true.

Zack’s door was slightly ajar, so I knocked and heard him tell me to come in. I peeked my head around the door and he was standing next to a little winebar.

“
Brandy? Scotch?” he asked me in a flat voice.

Oh, fuck.

“
Is it to celebrate my lack of matey-ness?”

“
Nope.” He swallowed his back in one huge gulp. I wasn’t offended, I’d drink too if I found out I was my mate.

He poured me a glass of something and prowled towards me, almost proprietarily.

I blushed and almost took a step back, but thought it was a good idea to stay still. Otherwise, he might think I was submissive. Wait, was that actually how it worked?

Holy shit, was he going to treat me like a dog? It didn’t matter, I wasn’t his mate.

“
Hold up, hound dog. So I guess that when I left the building the ‘feeling’ went away?”

“
You got it. The only thing I didn’t understand was how I felt her presence last night even though you weren’t there. But I just made a phone call and guess what I found out? Apparently the house car dropped you off outside the party last night. So you were there, weren’t you?”

“
Yes,” I said, like I was facing the guillotine.

“
Do you want me to explain the joys of doggy style to you or just give you a demonstration?” he said it half-jokingly, but the look in his eyes was dead serious.

I backed up.

“
I’m not your mate! There is another explanation. Down, Kujo.”

“
You yuck it up with those dog jokes but you’re going to pay for each and every one of them.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me flush up against him.

I felt him through my clothes, hard and ready, his hips against mine. It was exciting, frightening, made my legs a little weak and my panties a little damp.

“
How--” I had to breathe and swallow before I could say anything else, “out of curiosity, would I pay?”

“
I’ll show you once I get you out of these clothes.”

And then he kissed me. Softly, like a friendly, nice-to-meet-you-can-I-strip-your-clothes-off-and-bury-myself-inside-you-kind of kiss.

I finally pulled back, but I didn’t want to and hoped that I had been able to convey a yes-you-can-and-why-haven’t-you-done-it-already response when I’d moaned and shoved my tongue into his mouth.

“
What happens if I am your mate? Where do we go from there?” I mumbled, unwilling to allow him to get too far away from me. I kept my arms twined around his neck and looked into his eyes.

“
Station wagon, two kids, the whole deal. And maybe a wolf litter or two.”

That made me feel a little nauseous. Something must have shown on my face because he spoke again, and gripped my hips tight to hold me still.

“
We’d date. Get married and try to live happily ever after. Isn’t that what most women want?”

Oh god
. I could feel myself on the verge of hyperventilating. The plane was going down and I couldn’t even say may-day.

“
You don’t seem very happy about the idea that we might be perfect for each other. Why is that exactly?” He nuzzled my neck and I could feel his warmth seeping into my frozen bones.

“
You’re a great guy. Really. You seem…amazing. But I’m not a soul mate kind of person.”

He jerked away from me, staring at me intently like he’d know whether or not I lied by close study.

“
You don’t think it’s possible?” he asked, shocked, like I was a five year old telling him I didn’t believe in Santa Claus.

Which told me that he did believe in soul mates. This guy believed in soul mates and he thought I was his.

My body felt a little trembly. “No. It’s…possible. Just not for me, with someone like you. You know, the whole package. You’re like all that and a bag of kibble,” I said.

“
You walked in the door and it was like being punched in the stomach.”

“
That good, huh?”

He chuckled. “
Worse
. But you were so…prickly and different to what I expected that I just couldn’t believe you were my soul mate.”

“
And now?”

“
Now I’m thinking there are going to be a lot of dog jokes in my future. You’re smart, funny, have a great body, why wouldn’t you deserve a catch like me?” He sounded self-deprecating and it was really adorable. “Don’t you think you deserve to be happy?”

Oh. Ouch. Did I deserve to be happy? That was a brain teaser. Yeah, sure I did. But I didn’t expect it to be so…imminent. To be confronted with it and have to make a choice for it. I guess I had thought I’d date some guy and a lot of time would pass, we’d get married and I’d realize I was in love— it’d take me unawares, like a mugger in the dark.

He wanted me to make a conscious decision, to have faith in him, myself and the enigma idea of ‘us’.

“
What happens if I say yes?” I asked.

“
We will leave here immediately and go to your hotel or my house. I’ve got a raging, enormous…
headache
. And then, we get dinner.”

“
It’s ten am!”

“
It’s a very serious headache. I expect I’ll need repeat applications of whatever you did before.”

“
But I would get dinner? Somewhere nice I hope,” I said, trying to keep it light, disbelieving that I was making plans to not only sleep with this guy but more… like
permanent
more.

“
You can hope. I’m thinking it might be room service.”

I shivered and felt myself skip a breath. He must have seen my panicked look. “Trust me. Just walk out the door.”

So I did.

We walked side by side to his car, the strangest and most uncomfortable walk I’ve ever been on. I knew he was near me. I could almost feel him there. I couldn’t look at him directly so I watched the ground and the parking garage, catching glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye.

He walked over to my side of the car and opened the door for me. I walked past him, imagining a little crackle of energy between us, like static cling when my underwear stuck together.

He closed the door and walked around the car while my heart beat a million times a minute. He opened his own door and sat down in the driver’s side, closing the door.

The keys were in his hand and I saw him squeeze his fist tight. He didn’t start the car, just sat there looking out at the parking garage.

“
Jesus,” he said quietly, still staring straight ahead.

I turned to see him, not having my seat belt on yet, and all I wanted to do was lunge across the space and straddle him. have sex with him here and now. He was too close, like all our energies were getting pent up in the little car, making me more and more desperate to have him inside me.

He took a breath before putting the keys in the ignition. Then he turned to me, car still off. His voice was low, almost pulled from him like he didn’t really understand the question or the answer but was thinking about something distant and very far away.

“
What do you think, your hotel is about twenty minutes away?”

“
Yup.” And I was thinking the exact same thing. I couldn’t stop looking at his lips. They flattened as he watched me.

“
What time is it?” He looked at his watch and answered his own question. “Ten. No one will be leaving for lunch for quite a while.” I watched as he turned and faced forward, running one hand through his hair as he looked at our logistics. It was a large parking garage and where we were was secluded and dark. The odds of someone seeing us having sex, if they even came out, were low.
“Not much of a backseat,” I said, and yet I was already leaning forward, trying to get closer to him. Be on him. Take him.

“
Fuck. God, I can smell you. You’re everywhere,” he said, voice like misery.

It was so hot, so primal and then we were kissing, our mouths already having sex while the rest of our bodies tried to catch up. His hand was behind my head, holding me where he wanted me.

His arms dragged at me and I climbed over the seat, both of us panting hard.

“
Wait. One moment,” he said.

Zack reached down and the seat gave a huge jerk as he pushed it back, reclining it so I wouldn’t break my back on the steering wheel. I made a squeak at the sudden movement and he looked at me with a slightly sheepish smile.

We both laughed a little and then we were kissing again, kissing with a trace of a smile that I thought I could taste.

It was so right, so necessary. But all I could think was
now, now, now.

His hands slid up my thighs, under my skirt and there was a sharp tug, my underwear ripped away from me. His mouth slanted beneath me, plunging deep, the taste of scotch on his tongue an aphrodisiac.

He moved his fingers against me, finding exactly where I needed to be touched so that I cried out, moments from flying apart.

“
Don’t stop!” I gasped into his mouth, writhing upon him.

“
Never. You’re mine. Do you understand?” His breathing was harsh next to my ear, each exhalation licking over my skin and then I was suddenly coming, hard and fast. I heard the sound of his zipper, felt his knuckles graze me as he parted the fabric of his clothes.

I kissed him and reached down, grasping him in my hand.

His hands slapped to the backs of my thighs, trembling, his breathing harsh. I leaned back, looking him in the eyes, the depth of emotion on his face shocking me. The passion was obvious but he was also looking at me like I was a wonder, something perfect and fascinating.

I slid down and his eyes closed, air whooshing out of him. His hands left my thighs, roaming upwards, over my stomach and to my breasts. He thrust upwards from below, deeper and faster, breath sawing out of him.

And then his hand was in my hair, a loose fist at the nape of my neck, urging me to look at him. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.

My heart melted a little bit and then his thrusts were faster, deeper until he held my hips hard, grinding me down onto him with a hoarse groan. I felt him come inside me, his head dropping forward to rest on my chest.