I realize I’m still half braced, half sagged against the sink, my hand covered with my own arousal.
I shut my eyes so tight I see stars.
It’s never been this bad before, and to calm my somewhat cooling body, I try to rationalize why.
Because I have, no,had, feelings for Hunter. Because he touched me, then Brexley touched me and that was too much.
But then what was that slam of power I felt from Brexley when he touched me?
Normally my arousal is indiscriminate, and I would cry out the more the merrier. But I didn’t want Hunter touching me while Brexley did. In that moment, the Were owned me whether he knew it or not.
Before I could chalk it all up to something logical, a soft but audible knock raps against the door.
“You okay?” a rough male voice asks through the door.
It’s Brexley.
I turn around and face myself in the mirror. My face and chest are almost as red as my hair.
“I’m fine,” I try to say as normally as possible.
There is a pause then, “Are you sure?”
I turn on the faucet and wash my hands, skirt still askew. “Yes,” I say crisply, desperately wanting him to go away. Turning the water off, I shake my hands dry.
“If you let me in, I could help you, Red. Let me help you, Red.”
I go completely still. The suggestion in his voice . . . like he knows exactly what I ran in here to do. Like he’s offering to . . . no, that’s not right.
Images of letting him in and him fucking me over the sink until I’m screaming out of my mind has my engines revving again, hard.
“Ooh, Red.” His words come out half teasing taunt, half blatant need. “Let the Big Bad Wolf in and I’ll take care of that aching little cunt.”
Oh fuck. Can he hear my body?
No, there is no way he can sense my body through the door.
Still, I edge toward the door, my hand outstretched to the handle. I don’t even have to open it. I only have to pop the lock and let him do the rest. And I have no doubt he’d do just that.
It’d be so easy. I’d know relief, but first pleasure and ecstasy. I bet he’d pump me with a punishing speed and could go for as long as I needed. My skin screams in frustration.
“No one has to know,” he purrs.
I sober so fast, I'm back against the other side of the bathroom, hand curled into my body.
No one has to know.
I’d heard the same thing from Hunter countless times. I’m someone to kiss and fuck in the dark, but nothing more. The Big Bad Wolf, who thinks I’m a spoiled princess, would lower himself to give me a pity fuck because I need it. And because he wouldn’t mind getting his rocks off. How much of that would be because he is a wolf and enjoys getting territorial around other males?
The thoughts, one after another, are finally sobering. I push my skirt back down.
“Go away, Brexley.”
Though I don’t hear anything, I sense he’s left. Despite my heavy eyeliner, I throw several handfuls of icy water over my face.
Wiping away the black streaks now running down my cheeks, I use a stern tone with the girl in the mirror. “You are not that girl anymore. You choose the time, you choose the place. You control your body.”
My resolve crystallizes, but my hands still shake. It takes several more minutes to calm myself before I slip out, grab my stuff from the back room and take the back exit out of the Poison Apple.
