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He held out his hand. “Sit with me.”
I peeked down at the dusty old couch. “Sit on that?”
He eased himself down and nodded. “Yes. Sit with me and let someone help you for once.”
I rolled my eyes but did as he asked. “All right, now what?”
“Face me.”
I cocked my body toward him. “Done.”
“Now, hold out your arms like so.”
I watched as he balled his hands up into fists and turned the underside of his arms up toward the ceiling. I mocked his movements, clenching my fists as I stretched them out toward him. Dean’s eyes fell to my skin and his fingertips bounced along my wrists. Each soft touch of his skin against my own sent goosebumps fleeing across my skin, and the electricity that shot throughout my head left me breathless.
I had to coach myself on how to breathe again simply to focus on him.
Dear God, he’s hot.
With his blond hair swept to the side and his icy blue eyes ignited with something that bubbled behind them, his tanned skin flushed with a red tint. His broad shoulders poured into lean, trimmed arms with veins that bulged from his forearms. Dean had always been thinner. Lean, agile, and easy on the eyes. But he had grown into a man. A man with etched muscles, powerful legs, and a boyish gaze that held a determination I simply couldn’t put my finger on.
And as his fingertips danced slowly up my arm, that voice in my head sounded once more.
Let me have him.
I shook my head, trying to shake away the voice.
Mine. Give him to me.
“Shut up,” I whispered.
Dean whipped his gaze up to mine. “What was that?”
I cleared my throat. “Nothing.”
He eyed me carefully as his fingertips approached the crook of my arm. “Are you sure it’s nothing?”
Goddamn it, those lips. Kiss them. Just do it.
“Stop it,” I hissed.
He wrapped his hands around my arms. “Stop what?”
I clenched my teeth together. “I’m not talking to you.”
He tilted his head. “So, you’re talking to your wolf.”
My eyes widened. “I’m not crazy for hearing that voice?”
His smile was so kind. “We all hear it. It can get pretty feral sometimes.”
I scoffed. “You’re telling me.”
Just do it. You won’t be sorry. Kiss him. Kiss him like you mean it.
“I can’t,” I whimpered.
Dean leaned closer to me, his fingertips sliding up the expanse of my upper arms. “You can’t what, Raven?”
