Wolf Hunter. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
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length of fine, drifting silk. “About the fun.”
“Yes,” Abby admitted. “I’d be lying.”
She knew right then and there that it was too late for escape. Electrified excitement charged through her. Moonlight sparkled around them like a desert sandstorm, dulling the edges of reality, making closeness to a wolf seem viable. Making sexual fantasies with one seem viable.
Hell, possibly she did have a death wish.
And God...his eyes, drawing her to return his gaze, turned out to be gold, like the rest of him. A light, pure gold.
“I won’t hurt you. Go on. Take off.” The gruffness of his voice suggested that he might be sharing her inner turmoil.
“If you follow me, you’ll know where I live. I can’t allow that,” she said.
He held up both of his hands in a gesture of placation. “Then I’ll just wait here. I won’t follow.”
Abby’s left hand hovered over the pocket that held her cell phone. Her right hand straddled her right thigh above the knife by her boot. But she didn’t use either escape route, imagining she already felt his heated breath on her cheek.
Up close, this guy was outrageous. He oozed male masculinity and owned the term raw animal magnetism. This wolf was sex on long, lean legs, and seduction by design. He smelled like a man, not a monster. Drifts of aftershave, damp cotton fabric and musky male moistness floated in the air.
She wanted him in a really bad way, and there was no excuse. Her chest hurt. Bones ached from standing at attention. Her heart felt as if it had been squeezed, and not one breath she took in seemed sufficient to fix her oxygen deficit. It had been a long time since she’d been this close to anyone of interest. Her life had been that of a loner for reasons that necessitated never allowing anyone in.
At her father’s bar, she had remained more or less camouflaged, which made coping skills in dealing with her inner angst so much easier. She did her job. She did what she was told to do in order to be left alone afterward. Alone time away from Sam Stark and his gang had always been a reward.
Did it take a creature so unlike herself to make her desire something more? Someone not completely human who had to understand what it was like to feel out of place?
Damn it, she had caved. Someone had to pull her away because she couldn’t do it herself. The dichotomy of what she had been taught versus what they had going on here ratcheted up the tension of her internal tug-of-war. There had to be some good with the bad, and she wanted proof of that.
The pulses of desire passing through her were richly intense. Just looking at this guy was a treat and a pleasure. Doing anything more, however, might be suicidal.
“You have the police on speed-dial?” Her companion pointed to her pocket. “In case you meet someone else out here who’s not so accommodating?”
Another surprise. The concern in his tone sounded genuine.
An inexplicable flush burned its way up Abby’s neck and into her cheeks. The exposed triangle of flesh at the base of this guy’s neck had become like a glimpse into a world completely foreign to her—a world that was off-limits, new and untried, yet something she suddenly and desperately wanted to find out about.
Would he act on her show of weakness at last? Take advantage? Push her over the edge?
Abby briefly closed her eyes.
Despite everything in her life so far, and while knee-deep in danger, she wanted very badly to see what lay beneath his baby-blue shirt.
She wanted to know what made this Were worth so much to the team, and why he hadn’t yet hurt her, when the people in her life wouldn’t have given him the same consideration.
More than anything, she desired to run her tongue along the crease of his lips, drink deeply from his Otherness and truly indulge in the flavor of night. She would get those longstanding questions about his species over with, once and for all.
Right now.
“Perhaps you’d like me to go first?” he asked soberly. “The sooner you’re out of the area, the better. That’s a fact.”
He raised a hand as if he’d touch her, then let it fall before he did. Hoarsely, and as though the words stuck in this throat, he said, “My advice? Run away, little girl. Run fast.”
On quaking legs, Abby stubbornly stood her ground. “You first.”
His sigh struck her like a soft caress. “All right.”
When he took a step back, the strange bond that had sprung into place between them stretched tight.
“Good night,” he said without leaving her or turning away. The bastard just stood there, his golden gaze riveting.
Perhaps sensing how the mood had changed, he shook his head and smiled warily. Though misplaced, the smile dazzled, lifting the corners of lips Abby fantasized about licking, and making him seem way more human and approachable.
Suddenly, she felt like the animal here.
His unexpected exhibition of lightness seemed a confirmation, a mutual acknowledgment that the link that had sprung into place between them had grown red-hot and all-encompassing for no apparent reason, other than that old adage about the craziness of animal attraction.
That smile made something inside Abby shatter. Pieces of the reasoning process scattered like confetti. Sparks imploded down deep inside her with an interior fireworks display, creating a craving for this Were like no other, a craving the equivalent of a wave of primitive primal need.
Swearing beneath her breath, Abby realized that she truly hadn’t finished with this Were. She knew with absolute certainty that the treacherous moon above their heads that was nothing more to most people than a silver disc orbiting the earth was now about to become either her keenest enemy...or her future lover.
Fully aware of the risks, and discounting the consequences, she took that last stride forward...
And looked up just far enough to see the surprise on the gorgeous Were’s face.
“What the...?”
Cameron Mitchell took a good look at the woman standing before him and frowned. She was within touching distance, and he hadn’t put her there. The woman had gotten right up in his face.
Her actions were a complete surprise, and not wholly unwelcome. His feelings for her had come on strong from the first glance, and as unlikely as it seemed, her feelings appeared to parallel his. Still, acting on those feelings would be a huge mistake.
They were strangers, talking because of the way these immediate attractions went. Though the urge to touch her was impossible to resist, and he didn’t want to resist, he did have to maintain control. She wasn’t the reason he patrolled the park, and was, in the end, a distraction.
Still, his groin ached over the lushness of her scent. The inhuman parts of him swirled in reaction to the way she licked her lower lip after speaking, with the tip of a small pink tongue. Looking at her made the wildness trapped inside him long for release, and there was only one way to solve that problem.
Crazy woman! She telegraphed her willingness to break down barriers in a way that even the dullest senses could have picked up on. But the heat signature that had drawn him to her in the first place would also be a homing beacon for other Weres in the area, and a lightning rod for lunatics.
He couldn’t have her. The sooner she got out of range, the better. He had to let her go. Discounting others in the area, there was no way to predict what might happen if he acted on his sudden addiction to her, or if she might end up getting hurt. Though his wolf wasn’t in charge tonight, it hovered close enough to be in favor of taking this opportunity.
And the wolf’s