Nathan had developed a froglike desire for flies, with the tongue to match.
Net result: No second dates and the word had spread like wildfire. I was, in a word, un-dateable, with the most important social event of the hospital calendar breathing down my neck. The event that my ex, Pete, would be at with his new girlfriend. His skinny, blonde new girlfriend. The one I couldn’t even call a bimbo because she was a doctor as well. A damn surgeon, no less. Pete would be smug, I just knew it.
Bastard.
Blowing a breath out and disturbing my bangs, I studied myself in the full length mirror and grimaced. I’d pulled out all the stops for tonight. I had on The Dress. The strappy black number with the spilt halfway up the thigh and a neckline that ensured the girls had a damn good view of the world. It was the va-va-voom dress that I only wore on those important dates where I wanted to move things on with a guy…or to balls where I wanted to make someone as jealous as fuck. It was designed to be fitted, but with the pounds I’d piled on in self-pity as I watched my chances of a decent date high-tail it out of the door after another buzzing snack, it was now skin-tight. The girls didn’t just have a good view; they were practically falling out to join the party.
Great. Just f**king great.
Wriggling again, I tried to pull the neckline up to something approaching respectable and wondered if I could get away with wearing something else. The wriggle became a dance as I sidled crab-wise to flick the closet door open, one hand still trying to readjust the girls in their satin confinement.
One glance confirmed what I’d suspected; I was shit out of luck. I had everything from girls night in sloppy PJ’s right through to board meeting. Causal but fun date? Check. Long walks on the beach? Also check. ‘Just friends’ night out at the movies? Checkity, checkity, f**king check. Sexy but classy outfit that was sophisticated yet restrained, that held an unspoken aura of sex goddess? Not a f**king chance.
The doorbell rang, the shrill demand filtering through the space between me and the front door with the insistence of a door to door salesman or possibly my witch of an ex-mother in law.
Crap. Stone was here. Butterflies assaulted my stomach again as I bolted upright, slammed the door of the closet so hard it rattled in its frame and yanked the neckline of the dress up. In defiance it slid back down. Perhaps there was some duct tape in the ‘man box’ under the sink.
I braved one last look in the mirror. At least the gods of hair were being gracious. For once my hair had behaved perfectly, the long dark waves swept up into an elegant pleat at the back of my head. My make-up, done by the girl at the salon as an impromptu treat to myself, was a work of art. Smoky dark eyes, with nude lips, it was an understated look that made the best of my features.
I sighed as I turned for the door. At least I looked presentable from the neck up. Perhaps there would be a sack in the man-box that I could use to cover myself from neck down.
The walk to the front door was short but took forever. All too soon I was standing before it, looking at the shadow of my paid-for date through the opaque glass. Fuck, he was huge. His tall frame blotted out the glow from the lamp on the street as he turned, no doubt checking the number on the wall by the door. Yeah, yeah…it was a small house, no doubt not what he was expecting, but I didn’t care. It was mine, bought and paid for.
Anger over-rode the nerves and I yanked the door open to fix him with a glare.
“You’re early.”
He didn’t jump, or otherwise look startled by the abrupt greeting. Instead he turned, the blue eyes that had been stuck in my thoughts the colour of a warm tropical sea as he looked me over. Lingeringly.
My thought processes stalled, my ability to think blown out of the water totally. If I’d thought he looked good earlier in casual clothes, then seeing him in a suit was something else. The short dark hair that had been mussed up before was styled, just. The tousled spikes made me itch to run my fingers through it, and he hadn’t shaved.
Normally that and the fact he’d forgone a tie, the top buttons of his shirt open, would have pissed me right off. Instead I was fascinated, struck-dumb as the desire…no, the need, to get closer and run my fingers across his jaw and see how it felt, surged hotly through my veins.
“Fuck. Me.”
His voice was a reverent whisper that fed my feminine ego, but the words broke me from my day-dream of following the parted v of his shirt and popping the buttons one by one. He looked disreputable and gorgeous but I wasn’t up for taking any crap tonight. Not after the dress disaster and with the distinct possibility of making a right twat of myself hanging over me.
“Yeah. That went well for you last time, remember?”
I grabbed the wayward neckline and yanked up again, stepping back and gesturing for him to come in as I did so.
“I’m not ready yet. Give me five minutes and we can leave. Did your boss fill you in on the requirements for the evening?”
He nodded as he followed me in, his gaze riveted on me. My skin tingled and I looked over my shoulder. Yeah, he was looking at my ass. Colour swept my cheeks, the attention making me squirm.
“What’s the matter?” I couldn’t help asking. Did I have something on my nose? Or, even worse, between my teeth? Fuck. Panic sent the butterflies into meltdown as I turned to check out my reflection in the hall mirror. I didn’t complete the turn. Instead, a large hand clamped over my shoulder to spin me around like some sort of child’s toy. Before I could utter a word of protest I found myself pinned between the wall and a hard male body.
The shiver hit me broadside, the feeling of solid male flipping a switch inside and triggering reactions that should have been illegal. His lips paused a hairsbreadth from mine, his blue eyes dark and full of heat. The amusement I remembered from earlier was gone, stripped away to reveal feral need. He held my gaze, not bothering to hide the lust in his eyes and I shivered again.
“The matter?” His voice was a rasping soft murmur, totally at odds with the expression on his face.
My body reacted instantly, the shiver turning to a rush of heat that rolled through my veins. The girls perked up, my n**ples hard and aching in an instant. Even the rub of the soft satin cups brought a flush to my cheeks as it swept through me, en-route to settle low in my belly, my p**sy clenching hard as it ached to be filled. It had been…fuck, I couldn’t remember how long it had been. Which meant it had been too long.
The thought of him taking me, that lean, hard body moving over mine as he parted my legs and filled me with the thick, long c*ck I’d felt pressed against me earlier—Ohhellyesfuckmenow.
He cupped my face, fingers curled into my nape as his thumb caressed the skin of my cheek. Oh lord, he was good. Just the right amount of rough and charm to have even the most hardened ice-queen falling at his feet, and I was no exception.
The touch was gentle, but the tension in his body told a different story. As though he was having to hold himself back and, f**k yeah, I wanted some of that. Wanted a guy to want me so much he had to hold himself back. Pete hadn’t been like that. He was more once a week with the lights out, missionary position all the way baby. I’d once suggested we spice things up with some toys. From his reaction you’d have thought I’d suggested we host a debauched orgy and invite all the neighbours. Scandalised wasn’t the word. Fucking prude.
Another sweep of Jared’s thumb as his gaze riveted on my mouth.
“Nothing’s the matter. Unless you count the fact that I don’t want to go to this fancy do. I’d much rather push you against this wall and suck your tits as I shove your dress up, then f**k you until you come screaming my name.”
Fuck me. Yes. Now. Please…
Despite the fact that the heat in my stomach exploded outwards like a supernova, I somehow managed to swallow the moan of need that wanted to escape my lips and arch an eyebrow.
“Oh really?”
It was a world class bit of action, one that would have fooled any man into believing my cast-iron bitch routine. Any human man that was. His nose twitched a half second before his lips twisted into a slow grin.
“Yeah, really.”
He leaned in, lips brushing my ear as his aftershave wrapped me in a seductive spell. I couldn’t help it; I sucked a deep breath in on automatic. Oh lord, he smelled divine. Warm man, citrus and sandalwood; my favourite combination.
“I’ll let you off for now. But, for the record, wolves always get what we want. Eventually. We’re stubborn like that. And I want you. Just sayin’.”
Oh, he was a cocky bastard, that was for sure. He stepped back, an easy grin in place as he re-adjusted his cuffs. When he looked up, the fire was still there but banked.
“You’ve got five minutes. Iliona gave me the file earlier but mentioned something about a problem with your ex? You can fill me in on the situation in the car.”
Chapter Two
“I still can’t believe that your ex cursed you. What a bastard.” Jared’s voice was rougher than human, as if his wolf agreed with his opinion of my ex as we pulled into the parking lot outside the Fremont Hotel. The vehicle—some low slung, expensive sports car—hadn’t been what I was expecting, but it suited him. And hell did he handle it well, his hands easy on the wheel and gearstick while he controlled the beast of a car as though he’d been born to it.
Another shiver hit me. What would those big hands feel like smoothing over my skin instead of the steering wheel? Biting my lip, I pressed my thighs together in a prim movement that belied the fires raging through my body as liquid heat seeped from my channel to dampen my panties.
“Yeah, that’s one name for him. I’ve used a few others as well,” I blurted out, trying to cover up. I needn’t have bothered. The sharp intake of breath next to me and his sidelong look told me that he knew. Damn werewolves and their sense of smell.
He smiled, graciously letting me off as he pulled up to the valet stand. My initial decision to give the agency minimal information had lasted a hot minute once he’d gotten me into his car. Before I knew it, I’d told him everything about the situation with Pete and his pathetic curse deal, admitting that the real reason I’d used the PPA wasn’t for protection but because I couldn’t take a human date to the ball. And the directors were sticklers for convention. If I’d gone alone, the stuffed shirts would have commented, frowned and before long my tenure as Executive Administration Manager would have been over.
So in a way I did need the PPA for protection—just for my job, not my person.
Once he’d dropped the charm offensive, Jared had turned out to be a good listener. Calm, attentive and he’d asked intelligent questions. Ones that drew more information out of me than I’d intended to give. It didn’t surprise me that he’d been a cop before. I could just see him with a pair of handcuffs…did he still have them?
I cut that thought off and watched him as he walked around the car to open my door. He moved easily, with a fluid grace that turned the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other into a sensual and highly masculine dance. Another flood of heat wet my panties and I blushed as he held his hand out for mine. Fuck. I was creaming my pants over watching him bloody walk… What would I be like if he actually got nak*d in front of me?