“You cheated!” I holler.
“Figured this was the best move I had left,” he admits. “You two are doing great.”
The praise makes me feel warm all over. Hearing that low, pleased voice in my ear is a nice bonus.
“Are you going to help?” I ask my canine companion.
Melody tilts her head like she doesn’t understand the strange maneuver the silly humans are doing. If I were in real danger, I have no doubt she’d defend me. This doesn’t rise to the occasion. After a moment’s consideration, she sniffs the air, nose twitching, then drops her snout to the ground. With a soft woof, she trots off, following some invisible trail into the underbrush, her tail swishing through fallen leaves.
“Let the record show that I totally won,” I announce, trying to salvage my dignity despite being thoroughly trapped. “This doesn’t count. There’s no way I can get out of this hold. Well, it has crossed my mind to try kneeing you in the junk, but I’d rather not. I might want to use it later.”
“Is that so?” His voice has that honeyed quality that makes my stomach flip.
It started as a flippant comment to save face, but it hits me that there’s nothing standing in our way. With everything cleared up between us, we really could pick up where we left off. The thought sends heat pooling low in my belly, and I become hyper-aware of every point where our bodies connect.
“Are you naked?” The words come out breathier than intended.
“Is that a problem?” His voice is silky and teasing, fully aware of the effect he’s having on me.
I find myself leaning back, deliberately pressing into the solid wall of muscle behind me. His arm responds instantly, sliding around my waist and pulling me flush against him. The forest air suddenly feels ten degrees warmer. I can’t see him, but my mind paints the picture vividly—golden skin stretched over well-defined muscle, breathing hard and maybe still carrying the wild energy of his shift, triumphant and hungry as he holds on tightly to the prize in his arms, the fading forest light playing across his body.
“Mmm, Dodger.” His head dips, lips brushing the sensitive juncture where my shoulder meets my neck. His hot breath raises goosebumps along my skin. “Your scent just went all spicy. What are you thinking about?”
My pulse jumps at the contact. “You know.”
His lips curve into a smile against my skin. “Still want you to tell me.”
I turn in his arms, finally facing him, and my breath catches at the hunger in his golden eyes. “What if I just show you?”
Despite having no werewolf speed and being incapable of running a mile, I almost beat him getting inside the cabin. My feet barely touch the forest floor as I sprint, hearing Harper’s deep laugh behind me and the sound of his bare feet pounding on the earth. We crash through the cabin door together, his arm already reaching for me as it slams shut behind us.
When the Dog is Away, the Couple Will Play
Dodger
Am I dreaming or is this somehow the height of romance? In a secluded cabin with a gorgeous muscular werewolf, watching as he lights and stokes a fire. If you forget about the madman chasing me, this feels more like a romantic getaway than a hideout.
The logs in the fireplace are no competition, the very air between us crackles with possibility as he turns to face me, those golden alpha eyes holding mine with an intensity that makes my heart stutter.
“Where’s the dog?” he rumbles out the question.
I blink. “That’s what you have to say? Thought you were gonna say something romantic.”
“I’d rather make sure we aren’t interrupted this time.”
“She’ll stay out of our way.” Probably. Hopefully. This is her chance to go nuts exploring the surrounding woods. Hopefully, lots of squirrels and other woodland creatures are busy entertaining her while being confused as hell by a part-ghost predator. “Does that mean you want me all to yourself?”
“Damn right,” he growls.
Okay, the intensity in his eyes that threatens to burn a hole through my clothes isn’t exactly romantic either, but it’s damnsexy and impossible to resist. I launch myself at him and crush my mouth against his.
Harper responds immediately but not with the same frantic energy I’m pouring into him. His hands come up to frame my face, thumbs stroking over my cheekbones as he slows the kiss and takes control of it. Well, hello there romance. His tongue slides against mine, exploring every inch of my mouth thoroughly like he’s mapping territory he plans to claim.
It’s maddening, the way he can reduce me to shivers with just a kiss and how he refuses to be rushed. I nip at his bottom lip in frustration, but that only makes him smile against my mouth, his hands sliding down to my hips and holding me steady. The strength in those hands—the same hands that held me down so effortlessly last time—make my knees weak.
