He grinned at her over his shoulder, and her stomach did a slow flip-flop.
Wow. He didn't have a right to look so hot when he spent 99 percent of his time trying to annoy her.
“Werewolves eat a lot. Especially fully grown male wolves.”
“Maybe it escaped your notice, but I'm not a werewolf. Or male. There's no need to fill my kitchen.”
He swept a critical eye over her. “You're not eating right.” The comment surprised her speechless. For the first time in her life she was losing weight. And she'd stumbled across the only male in creation who didn't appreciate that? She wasn't sure if she should be insulted or kiss him in thanks.
She shrugged, going for nonchalance.
“I've lost a few pounds. It won't kill me to lose a few more either.” Jonas growled and with two long strides was right in front of her, so close his chest brushed against hers. It was damned hard to hold back a moan of longing. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her flush against him. There was no way to miss his erection, hard and hot even through his jeans.
“It might kill me,” he said before leaning down and nipping her neck. His hands slid around to mold her ass, and this time there was no way to hold in her moan. “I like your body like it is. I love your curves.” He nibbled her throat, searing a path up over her jaw to her lips. The kiss was slow and teasing. Coaxing. He broke away gradually with little bites and licks. Her heart raced, and her body went into a slow meltdown. He was being nice. He was being…seductive. He was sending major mixed signals, but how the hell could she resist him like this?
With a wink he stepped away and rummaged in the lower cabinets for cooking pans. Her fingers hovered over her lips. She might prefer him grumpy and snarly.
In a good mood, with a teasing smile, he was too damned enticing. He'd lull her into a sense of security and then morph back to the big bad wolf, wouldn't he?
Mick, who hadn't said a word, came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. His chin rested on her shoulder.
“He's nice when he's like this,” he teased.
“When does he turn back into a pumpkin?”
Mick laughed at her joke. His tone was light, but she wondered if his next remark was serious. “When he does, it's just because he's trying to keep up his macho image.”
This time she laughed. “Is that why? You mean he's not just mean tempered?” Jonas turned from the counter, where he was cracking eggs into a bowl. “You really think it's wise to harass the chef?”
She grinned. “Maybe not. But it's kinda fun.”
And she hadn't had nearly enough fun in her life. Not enough of this teasing banter. A look crossed his face that made her suspect he knew that.
He nodded. “You get a pass. This time.”
“Don't listen to him,” Mick whispered close to her ear. “He likes it when you give him attitude.”
It was hard to concentrate on his words with his lips so close to her skin.
Especially when he left a trail of kisses down her throat and over the exposed part of her shoulder. His fingers tugged the collar of her V-neck sweater out of the way, and he continued the soft kisses across her shoulder. When he dipped his hand down her torso and under her sweater to cup her breast, she gasped, arching against him when he shoved her bra down.
She stared down at herself, knowing she should protest. Her breast rested on top of the bunched-up cup of the garment. He held the weight in his hand, stroking the skin above her nipple with his thumb. His fingers were lightly callous, rough and sensual on her smooth flesh. Her eyes slid closed, only to snap open seconds later when Jonas spoke.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with lust.
Then he leaned forward and sucked her nipple into his mouth. He was gentle.
She wasn't sure if she wanted gentle. She tunneled her hands through his hair, holding him to her. He increased the pressure, the suction until he was taking long pulls. She shook when she felt teeth. Her hands slid to his shoulders, fingernails digging as she struggled to stay upright.
She needn't have worried. Mick held her with one palm on her belly. Under her sweater. His palm felt hot and fevered. She didn't notice he'd unsnapped and unzipped her jeans until his finger slid through her slick folds.
“Oh gods,” she moaned.
He nipped her shoulder hard enough that it should have hurt. “Should I stop?”
“Don't you dare.”
He chuckled, spread the lips that hid her pussy, and pushed one finger inside her. Then a second. He thrust them in and out, building up to a fast, even rhythm, each withdrawal scraping over sensitive, inflamed tissue.
Jonas switched to her other breast, pushing her bra down to expose her and stare a moment. She swore she could feel the heat of his gaze on her skin. He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, and she started to quake. Mick's fingers fucked her harder. Faster. When his thumb grazed her clitoris, she bit her lip and fought the orgasm rising in her body. She wanted to come, but this felt too good to ever stop.
“Let go, sugar,” Mick said gruffly. “Come for me now. I want to feel you on my fingers.”
She would have been able to hold it off if not for that order. She'd always longed for a take-charge lover. Someone who would dominate her with loving protectiveness, not cruelty. She quit fighting the sensations in her body. It was like a dam breaking, flooding her with pleasure, pouring through her body until it almost hurt, and she cried out.
They didn't give her time to enjoy the warm glow that suffused her. Mick's fingers were suddenly gone. He pushed her jeans and panties down so they pooled at her ankles.
