Page 58 of Shifted Desire

He palms his face with a tortured groan. “No, gods, no. You’re perfect.”

The heady desire that floods from him takes my breath away.

“I don’t understand.”

“I…it’s wrong. I thought I could do it, but then I spent time with your father and…” His eyes meet mine. “The guilt is eating me up.”

Oh. I thought he was okay with that. I hate that I’m relieved it’s nothing I did. That I’m not a failure.

“Okay.” I swallow against the disappointment of finding out the problem isn’t one I can solve. I can’t change who my parents are.

“No, it’s not okay,” he says, taking a step closer. “The guilt is intense, but this need…the hunger I feel whenever you’re around…it’s ten times worse.”

If I wasn’t going commando, the rasp of pained desire in his voice would set my panties on fire.

“It is?” I ask, far too breathily, moving so that my chest brushes against him and I have to tilt my head to meet his gaze.

“I can’t fight it any longer. If that makes me a terrible person, so be it. But gods, I can’t be around you and smell you, and do nothing. It’s torture.”

A hint of a smile curves my lips, the rush of his need better than any drug. Alarm bells go off in the back of my mind that this is not a great dynamic to feed into, but my desire to be wanted drowns them out.

I lick my lips. “Then stop fighting it.”

22

If anyone asks me, I can say that I tried to resist. Gods, I’ve tried.

Knowing what it feels like to be with Samantha, feeling a semblance of calm and ease that only she seems to be able to bring about, and turning away from it is too much.

People will say I’m weak. That I’m only thinking with my dick, or letting my wolf control me, and maybe they’re right. But I’m fucking tired of always denying myself. The guilt after spending more time with Shane was intense, but so was the realization that I have nothing in my life compared to my old friends.

Restraint and responsibility for a family that I’ll never be enough for has left me a bitter, exhausted shell of an old man. And here is vibrance and pleasure incarnate, telling me I’ve somehow failed again because I tried to do the respectable thing. Smelling like raw desire and something I’ve yet to put a name to, so perfect and utterly Samantha that how the fuck am I supposed to keep “doing the right thing”?

Maybe the right thing is giving the beautiful, whip-smart woman in front of me what she wants.

If I thought she was only seeking sex because she was worried about her job, then I could push her away, but there’s an undercurrent of hurt that tells me it’s more than that for her. She’s upset that we’ve stopped because she wants me. And gods, if that isn’t the most mind-boggling, intoxicating feeling in the world, having a woman like Samantha offer herself to me because she’s as desperate for it as I am.

My hand trembles as I reach out to rest it on her waist. Samantha’s breath hitches the moment I make contact, and my wolf lets out a primal rumble of pleasure at touching her again.

“I’m sorry,” I say, voice thick. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.” I lean in and inhale her fogging scent with a groan. “Gods, I’m a fool to think I could fight this.”

She laughs softly, wrapping my tie around her palm and tugging it. “Yes, you’re an idiot. Don’t do that again. If you have a problem or want to stop, tell me.”

Her gaze is sharp, but I feel the deeper emotion behind her words. “I’m done trying to resist you. It won’t happen again.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “You don’t know that. Promise me you’ll tell me so I don’t torture myself with annoying self-doubt.”

Dammit, I made her think she did something wrong. I hurt her because I was so wrapped up in my own guilt and struggles that I didn’t consider how pulling away would affect her. I assumed she didn’t care, because why would she?

My reality shifts as I realize that Samantha cares deeply about what I think of her. That what we’re doing means something to her. It’s dizzying and makes my wolf purr with excitement.

“I promise.” The rasp and weight of the words linger between us, the awareness of this being more than sex permeating the air.

Samantha releases my tie and pats my chest, then steps back.

I frown, resisting the urge to keep her held against me. “Where are you going?”

“Relax, Wolf, I’m just locking the door.” She goes over to the door, listening outside for a moment before flicking the lock and turning around with a wicked smile.