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Kurt was an eager man, a shifter who undoubtedly wanted revenge with a wolf living inside him, an animal just spiteful enough to look at the outside world with enough scrutiny to question anyone and everyone who stepped in his way to prevent him from taking what he wanted. At that time, he’d clearly wanted to stop a killer.
He was there to put the bullet in a murderer’s skull.
His passion had been remarkable, just as it was extraordinary now. He’d kill for those he loved. And when he wasn’t chasing the devil or trying to capture the extortionist or anyone else who threatened to destroy them, he’d love his woman like there was no tomorrow and nothing to stand in their way today.
Kurt had easily slipped into the small town of Pleasant and made friends in their community. Later the residents of Pleasant had discovered putting down the extortionist wouldn’t be as simple as firing a gun or swinging any other significant weapon. The extortionist was a supernatural, an entity they couldn’t fight like an ordinary enemy.
And Kurt wasn’t a man a woman could handle like any other man.
His eyes held fire as she crawled across the smooth tabletop surface. She took one painstakingly inch at a time, certain her knees would be raw by the time she reached him.
The lust in his eyes drove her motivation. Her hips swayed
to the music as she traveled to the other end of the table. As if she’d rehearsed this seduction a thousand times in her mind, she thrust one arm in front of her and flattened her hand on the table before hauling her body closer to her finish line—Kurt.
His expression was priceless, hardcore yearning lived in his eyes, in the tight definition of his boxed jaw. A few times he released this carnal noise, a masculine sound too wrought with need, too thick with male hunger.
“Stop.” His voice was deep, raspy.
She wasn’t about to stop. She kept her pace. One arm out in front, then the slow drag of her body as she pushed her hips up and back, pursuing him. She might as well have been swimming toward him, nice and easy, taking her own sweet time with slow, manipulated strokes.
As if he had every intention of scolding her then, his gaze darkened. Thick lids lingered over his pupils and the shaded circles underneath his eyes appeared grey.
In that moment, she owned him. He was all but curved around her body and he probably suspected as much.
“You want me.” She needed to hear him say it. She longed to hear him tell her exactly what was on his mind.
He held up his hand then and cocked his head with a sudden jolt. “Shh.” Obviously startled, he leapt from his chair and went to the window.
So much for whispered passionate sentiments.
“What is it?” She trembled as a cool breeze filled the room. “Kurt?”
“Suzette. Get dressed.” He peered behind the dated curtains hanging in her living room.
“What do you mean get dressed?”
“I mean, put your damned clothes on, honey. He’s here!”
“And you think it will matter if my body is covered?” She jumped from the table and scooped up her clothes, aware of too much jiggle in her chest as she slid the material over her hips and fastened the button at her side.
Kurt’s heated gaze swept over her once more as he took long strides across the room and grabbed her by the hand. “Let’s hope he doesn’t have a thing for unfashionable clothes.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m afraid he’s more interested in the woman hiding under these godforsaken garments.” He squeezed her hand. “And that’s where he and I are gonna have a real problem.”
* * * *
“Damn it!” Randon lowered the binoculars and handed them off to Pageant. “He didn’t do it.”
“What do you mean he didn’t do it?” Blaine asked.
“You’re privy to enough pack information. Figure it out.” Randon wasn’t a smartass by trade, but lately he’d been short on patience.
“He didn’t mate with her,” Pageant informed Blaine, tucking the field glasses in the case.
“You mean you were actually spying on them?” Blaine wrinkled his nose. “I thought you were covering their asses, not watching for the chance to see them grinding and fucking.”
