how tightly it was leashed. Squeezing her hand, he let go and stepped back.
“What?” Her reply was breathy with anticipation.
“When I was in your bedroom after being wounded, I crawled under your bed.”
“And I wondered why.”
“The razor. I couldn’t let you shave me. I had a forest run with other werewolves scheduled in San Francisco, and I didn’t want to explain to them why I was shaved.”
Laughter danced in her eyes. “Oh.”
“But when I was under the bed, I couldn’t watch you undress.”
“Is that the request? To watch me take my clothes off?”
He nodded.
“Such a simple thing.” Backing away a little more, she nudged off her shoes.
“Not to me. I’ve imagined you here stripping down because you can hardly wait to show me what I so desperately want to see.”
“But I’m just an ordinary—”
“Shh. You’re a goddess. Your skin is like satin. I know that now because I’ve touched you, but somehow I’ve always known.”
She’d taken hold of her T-shirt hem, but she paused. “I need to do this right.” Releasing her hold on the shirt, she reached behind her back and slid both hands under the shirt to unhook her bra.
Once it was free, she whipped off both her bra and the shirt in one dramatic motion. He caught his breath. In the kitchen, he’d been too intent on caressing her to really look. Now he did.
She was lush, ripe, tantalizing almost beyond his ability to control himself. Saliva pooled in his mouth as he imagined swirling his tongue over each of her raspberry-tipped breasts. He would take his time, cup them in his palms, and savor the pebbled texture while she moaned with pleasure.
But she was not content merely to present her treasures for his viewing. No, she had sweet torture in mind. Sliding her hands up her rib cage, she cradled her bounty, lifting and massaging her breasts for several long seconds.
She couldn’t know that her massage intensified the sweet aroma of her skin, a powerful trigger for a creature with a heightened sense of smell. Her preference for almond lotion and soap had always drawn him, but now he breathed in her essence, that pheromone-laden scent that was unique to her and the most compelling aphrodisiac he’d encountered in any female, ever.
His cock swelled in response. He clenched his hands, determined not to grab her like some savage. But with each breath, a red haze of lust threatened to overwhelm his control. When she squeezed her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, he nearly came. The effort not to made him groan.
Her eyes lit with mischief. “Am I creating the fantasy you had in mind, Jake?”
“Mm-hm.” Coherent speech had deserted him. He hadn’t counted on her vivid imagination, but he should have after admiring her carving wizardry all these years. She might not have his physical stamina, but she was miles ahead of him in the fantasy department.
“I’m glad I’m pleasing you.” Slowly moving her hands down her torso, she reached for the fastening on her jeans. She held his gaze as she undid the metal button and inched the zipper down.
He expected her to wiggle out of the jeans once they were loose enough to slide over her hips. And then . . . then she would be his, every sweet-smelling inch of her. His nostrils flared.
But instead she slipped one hand under the elastic of her panties and eased it down, down, until . . . dear God, she was pleasuring herself.
Earthy and primitive, the scent of her arousal was more than he could take. He held his breath to block it. But he had to breathe, and when he did, his heart kicked into overdrive and the crotch of his jeans felt like a vise squeezing his privates.
She moved her hand faster and with obvious intent as her lips parted and her breathing quickened. Her nipples puckered in response to her impending climax.
Her question came out as a short gasp. “Why . . . not?”
“Because . . .” Wrenching his zipper down, he closed the gap between them and pulled her hand from her panties.
That was all he needed, one leg free. He backed her against the nearest wall, not even caring which one, knowing only that he needed a surface that wouldn’t give way as he drove into her. At last he could breathe, because at last he could satisfy the pounding need she’d unwittingly escalated beyond all endurance.
The rich scent of her was a banquet and he was taking his seat at the table. Grasping her sleek bottom in both hands, he lifted her and propped her against the wall.
“I’m not athletic,” she said breathlessly.
“That’s okay. I am.” He found her pulsing wet center and surged forward. As he buried his aching cock up to the hilt, he cried out in triumph. Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing.
She might not be athletic, but she obviously understood the basics of this position. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his shoulders as he began to move. He could have supported her without that extra help, but he was willing to accept it because it allowed him to relax and enjoy the ride.
And that meant relishing her response when she came, and if he was very lucky, when she came a second time. Once they were both steady, he looked into her eyes. “How’s that?”
For an answer she tightened her pelvic muscles and squeezed his very happy cock. “How’s that?”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds while he fought against coming immediately. “Dynamite. Keep that up and this will be over in a jiffy.”
Her low chuckle was the sexiest laugh he’d ever heard. “What about your famous stamina, big boy?”
When he opened his eyes, she was smiling at him. “You sabotaged it, you sexy woman.”
“I wanted to fulfill your fantasy.”
“You did. And then some.” Later he might tell her how far she’d pushed him without even knowing it. He eased back and slid home again. “What about your fantasy?”
“This . . .” She gasped as he pulled away and pushed in tight. “This handles it.”
“Too bad.” He began to pump faster. “I was hoping you’d want another round.”
“I might. Mm. I just might. You’re very convincing, Jake.”
He stroked faster as the smell of good sex whirled around them. “I like it when you say my name.”
“I like your name.” She whimpered and arched her back, allowing him deeper access.
“Say it again.”
“Jake.” She murmured it at first. Then his name became a chant, then a wild cry as she came, her spasms gripping his penis, massaging it relentlessly, coaxing him to pour himself into her.
With a groan of surrender, he did. With one more deep thrust, he erupted. His seed spilled out in a rush of such pleasure that he was left gasping her name.
As long as he lived, he would remember this moment. And this woman. This very human woman.
• • •
Rachel discovered she liked being with a physically fit male creature who could carry her around. After experiencing the most shattering climax of her life, she didn’t have the strength to stand, let alone walk over to the bed. Jake carried her there. Problem solved.
He even managed to slide the covers out from under her limp body so that she was lying on the soft bottom sheet. Jake obviously favored a high thread count. She did, too, but his concept of luxury bedding was even more evolved than hers. She liked that in a man . . . er . . . werewolf.
In her postorgasmic haze, she wasn’t particularly concerned about Jake’s alternate persona. He was behaving like a strong and very solicitous lover, which certainly worked, no matter what he became in his spare time. He finished undressing her so that every inch of her could appreciate the softness of his sheets, which were pale green and had a masculine scent that reminded her of sage.
The room dimmed as he closed curtains or blinds or both. She didn’t look to find out. She was still riding the
