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“I think you’ll understand when you see the inside.” I took her hand. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.” I unlocked my door and opened it for her. “I don’t think mine is haunted anyway.”
She walked past me and into the loft. Her jaw dropped as she took in my twelve-foot Christmas tree and all the twinkling lights around the room. “Wow.” She looked over at me. “You love Christmas.”
“Does it show?” I tried not to crack a smile as I took off my coat.
Her laughter made my heart stutter as the glorious, bright sound echoed through the room. She looked over at me with a warm grin. “It’s hard to believe they built something so beautiful out of the Old Jail. I remember when the preservationists were fighting to save the building, but I’ve never been inside.”
“I’ll give you a tour, and if the vibe is off for you, we can go to your place.” I took her hand and gave her the lay of the land. I had a two bedroom, two bath unit on the corner with a gorgeous view of Salem. We walked back out to the living room and sat on the couch. “Are you all right? We can leave if there’s ghost or bad energy or anything.”
“I’m okay. No ghosts.” She met my eyes and shook her head slowly. “You’re nothing like I imagined you’d be.”
“Is that a good thing?” It didn’t escape me that she would be the only woman I would ever love, but she didn’t share my instincts. She could walk out that door and never look back. I prayed she’d find me half as intriguing as I found her.
Damn, I’d never been so fucking insecure in my entire life.
Her lips curved at the corners. “It’s not good or bad, just…different.” She stared at the big tree. “When we were in high school, I guess I thought you were just one of the popular kids who would leave town on a football scholarship and end up with a trophy wife and a couple perfect children, then retire to be a sportscaster.”
I chuckled as I took her hand. Her description was the opposite of me. “I played because I loved the game. I was never in it for a career.” I squeezed her hand. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
We got up from the couch and I took her into the second bedroom that I used for an office. Full bookcases lined three of the walls. I brought her over to my Sherlock Holmes shelves. “These books were more important to me than football ever was.”
She skimmed the spines and met my eyes. “You loved mysteries.”
“I lovedsolvingthem. That was more exciting than catching a touchdown pass.” I eyed the books. “I ended up with a degree in Criminal Justice and got a job in the Boston police department.”
“Why did you leave?”
“It was too risky.” I pointed up at the night sky. “I couldn’t keep calling in sick during the full moon. I left the force and opened my private investigation company.”
She stared up at me, her voice taking on a wistful tone. “So I wasn’t the only one who gave up a dream because of supernatural DNA.”
I shrugged. “I decided being a werewolf was much cooler than being a detective any day.”
She grinned. “I never thought about it like that. I guess being a witch is better than being chased by the paparazzi all over Hollywood.”
I caressed her cheek. “Hollywood doesn’t deserve you.” I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to hers.
She moaned, opening to me as our tongues tangled slowly. Her hands slipped underneath my shirt. Her fingers exploring my back and the animalistic instinct to claim my mate overcame me. I picked her up and carried her over to my desk, resting her ass on the edge. She parted her legs, and I moved in closer, aching to lose myself in the heat of her body.
I broke the kiss long enough to strip off my shirt and reach for hers. Before I could form words to be sure she was willing, she lifted her arms over her head. I pulled her sweater off and dropped it on the floor, then fused my lips to hers again, as if she were the air I needed to breathe.
My wolf howled from the depths of my soul as her bare skin touched mine. I reached around to unhook the clasps of her bra and froze as her cool fingers unbuttoned my pants.
The shock of her cold hands sent a bolt of clarity through the fog of lust.
Condoms. Did I have any?
Her teeth tugged at my lower lip and rational thought escaped me as all my blood rushed to another part of my body.
Her lips trailed down my neck. “What’s wrong?”
I slid the bra straps down her arms. “I need to…” I tossed it onto her sweater and my brain short-circuited. Oh fuck, her breasts filled my hands, heavy and… I couldn’t find words.
“Jackson?” She whispered, her breath catching as I kneaded them. Her nipples were already hard, tempting me to suck them into the warmth of my mouth and worship them with my tongue.
I forced my gaze to her face. “Condoms.”
Her sexy smile widened. “I’m on the pill.”
