“I feel like I should try this all on to practice before tomorrow.”
“Good idea,” Blaze said.
Stella took everything to the bathroom and set it on the counter. Siren had made her an instruction manual for the makeup look Mia was supposed to wear. Stella opened the makeup case and started with foundation to cover her freckles. Contour next. Shadow under her cheekbones, along the sides of her nose, at the edge of her jaw. When she stepped back, the softness was gone, and her face had angles she’d never seen.
Eyeliner next. She’d done eyeliner before, but she’d never done a wing this sharp. Then lashes. The glue smelled like rubber cement, and the first one went on crooked. She peeled it off and started over. Then lipstick. She painted her mouth red, blotted once, and applied again the way the card said.
She looked at her face. The freckles were gone. The cheekbones weren’t hers. The eyes looked enormous. Her mouth was deliberate, painted on, and finished.
She put on the bra. The cups lifted her breasts. Her nipples hardened against the fabric just from the cold and the look of herself. She thought about Blaze sitting on the bed in the next room and her nipples got harder. She then stepped into the pleather skirt and pulled it up over her hips. The hem hit the upper third of her thighs.
She pulled the mesh top over her head. Red, fine enough that the black bra showed through in full, the hem hitting just below her ribs. The skin of her stomach was bare from the bottom of the top to the waistband of the skirt.
The choker fastened at the back of her neck, and the metal ring settled in the hollow of her throat. The hoop earrings slid in. Gold caught the light when she turned her head. The boots were last. She stood up straight and looked in the mirror. The heels added four inches and made her ass pop and her calves flex.
She braided her hair flat against her head and pinned it with the bobby pins, then fit the wig cap over the braid. The blunt platinum cut pulled her cheekbones forward and made her eyes look even bigger. The woman in the mirror was someone Stella didn’t recognize.
Stella opened the bathroom door and walked back into the hotel room. Blaze looked up from where he sat at the edge of the bed. The hard line of his mouth opened half an inch, his wolf came up behind his eyes, and his chest stopped moving.
The bond cranked open between them so hard that heat moved down her stomach and pooled wet between her legs. Her bear pushed against her chest and moaned. Blaze looked at her like he was going to lose his mind if she didn’t close the distance in the next ten seconds.
She walked toward him. The heels made her hips switch. She stopped two feet from Blaze and put one hand on her waist.
“Do I look like a fighter’s girlfriend?” She started to dance.
He didn’t answer, and his jaw tightened. His hands had gone tight on his thighs, and the cords of his forearms were standing out. She watched what her dancing did to his face. His pupils had blown wide, the blue bright. He was breathing through his mouth like he’d forgotten his nose worked.
Her bear was roaring. She felt herself getting wetter just from the dance. She walked the last few steps toward him, hips still rolling, and stopped between his knees. The smell of him hit her. Leather, lemongrass, the musk of his wolf underneath.
“Stella,” he said, low and rough.
She leaned down with her mouth close to his.
“Do you like it?”
His hands closed on her hips. The grip was firm, and his thumbs pressed into the bare strip of skin between the waistband of the skirt and the bottom of the mesh top. She straightened, reached behind her, and opened the bra clasp. She slid the straps downher arms under the top and pulled the bra out from underneath. She dropped it on the bedspread beside him.
His breath caught and his eyes dropped. The mesh was fine enough that the shape of her was fully visible, and her nipples were tight against the red. He brought one hand and palmed her breast through the mesh. His thumb dragged across her nipple through the fabric. She gasped and climbed into his lap.
Her knees went down on either side of his hips. The skirt rode up to her hipbones the moment she straddled him; the pleather bunched at her waist. The thin satin of her thong was the only thing between her wet pussy and the denim of his jeans. She could feel the hard shape of him pressed against the seam between her legs.
She rolled her hips against him and moaned. The ridge of his cock dragged against her clit, and she gasped. Her bear pushed up under her skin so hard she felt it in her teeth. He groaned low in his chest, his hands tightened on her waist, and his head tipped back. His throat was exposed. She licked up the side of his neck to his jaw. The taste of him was salt and skin, and his pulse hammered under her tongue.
“Stella,” he murmured.
She rolled her hips again, harder, and sucked his throat. The friction of his denim against her pussy was making her wetter, her panties were soaked through.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and brought his mouth up to hers. The kiss was hungry. Her tongue darted into his mouth, and he answered her with a sound that wasn’t quite human. The bond opened wide and hot, and her bear met his wolf in the space between them.
He pulled her flush against him. Her breasts pressed against his chest through the mesh. He kissed her like he’d die without it. He stood up with both arms around her and laid her down on the bed. He came over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, and her bear rose under her skin in recognition. He braced one hand by her head and looked down at her.
“I need you,” he growled into her ear.
He gripped the hem of the red mesh top and dragged it up over her head. His mouth went to her neck, then her collarbone, then the curve of her shoulder. His stubble dragged against her skin and left it stinging in the best way. His mouth was wet and hot, and the smell of him drove her mad.
He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked, and her back came off the mattress. His tongue worked her, flat then pointed then flat, and his hand came up and rolled the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger in time with his mouth. She groaned loudly, and he hummed against her skin, pleased with the sound.
He pulled off her nipple with a slow drag of his lips. The cold of the air on the wet skin he’d left made her gasp, and then his mouth was on the other nipple, his hand on the first.
