Page 83 of Red

Maybe he wants to set me up with someone so he can hand me off.

“Not a big badass werewolf like you? Sorry, if this is a wake-up call, but you don’t get to judge or have a say in my love life because I’m not like you.” Heat flares under my skin. I could turn right now, reveal my beautiful ruby-red fur. He’d probably have a heart attack or try to kill me. Still, that split second of shock would be a highlight of my life.

What am I doing? Thinking of turning in front of him? This is not a good conversation for tequila to be a part of.

“You are that repulsed by werewolves?”

“Stark.” My eyes dip toward that delicious V before I snap them back up, hand covering my mouth as the wrong words claw up my throat. “I would . . .” —wrap my mouth around your cock until you yelled my name so loud it woke everyone up in this house and had them breaking down the door. Except he’s mated, and that won’t change. The spirits just had to give me magical tingles from the one werewolf I can’t even have.

“You would . . . ?” The patience in him wearing thin.

“I would mate a werewolf, but the real problem is convincing one to mate with me, so good luck with that.” I do a twirl and fan my arms out. I think I’d want them to fall for me before I told them the truth. I’d want them to mate me, not the magic in my blood. I wish Pratt and I had this conversation, about me eventually finding someone. “Can we like move on to something else? Talking about my failed love life while you’re happy with yours doesn’t make me feel, you know, all bubbly inside.” I walk over and lay down on the bed again, staring at the ceiling. I wonder what Pratt and Mom are up to.

“You ever wish you could change it?”

I stare at the carved posts next to his bare shoulder—werewolves running in a group. Do I wish I could run with everyone? Not being hidden for almost ten years? Yes. Would I give up my ruby-red fur, the magic I do have, even if it puts me at risk?

“No, I don’t.” My hands run over the top of the comforter.

He raises his eyebrows. “Ever wonder if you’re so hot internally because your werewolf never got released?” For once, he speaks in a normal voice.

“Um, it’s definitely not that.” I pick at a thread on the bottom of my silk shorts.

Stark lies beside me. Tingles whisper over my bare skin, just inches from his. Why is he even in here? Nikki must be asleep in his bed by now.

“Why not? It’s a good theory. Maybe we could get it to release. I’ve been reading books on werewolves who turned later in life.”

I let out a long sigh. “Stark . . . I’ll be okay if no one mates me because I’m not like all of you, but thank you for the help.”

“That’s not why I want to help you.”

I stare at his lips, and my hand reaches out, the tingles like a magnet pulling me closer to him. They grow while I trace down his muscles. The tingles are so nice, I want to feel them everywhere.

Stark takes his hands and grips them around my waist. I’m in the air for a moment before he lowers me down, my legs straddling his defined abs. The sensation fills in all the places. I want it to grow and consume me. It’s better than the tequila.

His hand traces down my arm to my fingers, and he pulls me down to face him. I breathe in his scent. I could replace my rose soap with it. I stare down at his lips, and I want to see if my lips will tingle. Last time we kissed, I can’t remember if they did.

He blinks his mesmerizing eyes, and his hand wraps up in my dark hair. I wonder if he’d like it red? He did say it’s my color.

I think about sliding further down and taking his pants off. Getting the werewolf sex I’ve always dreamed of, wild and hot.

I’ll break her.

What? I shake my head and sit up. Why does he want to hurt me now?

“Why didn’t you fight against having me here with you?” I ask, catching my breath.

He shakes his head in silence.

“I think you should go.” I start to swing my legs off him, but he grips my thighs in place. The tingles crawl deep up my thighs and my body shivers. Good timing for that reaction.

“Why?” His voice comes out low.

“This is wrong.” I push up, but the grip intensifies, and a moan comes from the center of my chest. I try to sit up to give space.

He growls, sliding his hands further up the inside of my thighs, the length of him pressing harder against the dampness under my thin shorts.

“You said you’d mate a werewolf.”