the arm of the couch. Her eyes devoured every inch of his bare skin. Celina had never seen a man built like him. He sported so many hard ridges and shadowed lines that he didn’t look real.
His long, tapered fingers moved to the button on the front of his jeans. She’d had those fingers inside every orifice and still she wanted more, needed more.
Slade popped the button. The denim slipped an inch, riding low on his hips, exposing the indentations that hinted at greater perfection. He didn’t seem to notice her physical response. Without a second glance, he walked into the bedroom.
Celina tried not to drool as she watched him go. The second he was out of sight, she glanced at the phone and debated whether to call Mindy.
And say what? Be careful, werewolves are sniffing around your house? Watch out, werewolves are real? She’d have her committed.
“Celina,” Slade’s raspy voice called out.
She recognized the tone immediately. He only sounded sexy like that when he wanted some, wanted her. The realization dispersed her doubts and bolstered her hopes.
“What, babe?” she asked.
“I’m hungry,” he said, surprising her.
Celina glanced at the food on the table. “You want me to heat up the plate?”
“I don’t want food,” he said. “I want you to get your butt in here and take your clothes off.”
Desire mingled with defeat. Celina couldn’t resist his call, hadn’t been able to from the start. Slade had come into her life and stolen her soul.
No, not stolen, she thought. She’d given it to him willingly. Wrapped it in a bow and handed her soul over, along with her self-respect.
Celina reached for the bottom of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. She hadn’t bothered to put on a bra, since Slade didn’t like them. He wanted easy and fast access. She dropped the shirt onto the floor and slowly strolled into the bedroom.
Slade was lying on top of her white comforter with his back pressed against the wrought-iron headboard. He was gloriously naked, waiting for her. His tight fist encased his swollen flesh, emphasizing his arousal.
Celina gulped, drinking in the sight of him. He was big and thick. Everything about him was sheer perfection. “You’re beautiful.”
He ignored the compliment as if it were his due. “About time,” he said, stroking himself. “This isn’t going to suck itself.”
Celina let out a desperate whimper and dropped to her knees.
“That’s a good girl,” Slade said, as she brushed his hands aside and grasped him, then slowly lowered her head.
* * * * *
Chapter Eight
The sun had barely peeked its golden head above the horizon, when Nic arrived at work the next morning. He punched in his security code and the large metal gate swung open. Nic pulled through and stopped, waiting for the gate to close behind him.
They’d had a security breach not long ago. Jenna Dane’s “ex” had broken onto the estate and threatened to expose the Kin.
The problem had been dealt with swiftly, but he and the other wolves had become more vigilant about the pack’s security.
The woods rushed by as Nic meandered down the long drive. The concrete and stone manor came into view as the trees parted and the road split in two. If he veered right, he’d go toward the circular drive in front of the house.
He went left. Most of Aidan’s estate was still asleep, but the lights were on in the garage as he pulled his truck up and parked.
Nic walked in to find Josh Dubois and Bernie Macklemore already hard at work.
“Morning,” Nic said, and went straight for the pot of coffee on the shelf.
Josh popped his dark head out from beneath the hood of the sports car he was working on. He was a wiry twenty-something who laughed as much as he talked and had the kind of energy that would shame that battery- operated bunny. “You look like crap. Must’ve been some night.” Josh grinned and his youthful eyes danced with glee.
Bernie slid out from under the sedan he’d been
His long, tapered fingers moved to the button on the front of his jeans. She’d had those fingers inside every orifice and still she wanted more, needed more.
Slade popped the button. The denim slipped an inch, riding low on his hips, exposing the indentations that hinted at greater perfection. He didn’t seem to notice her physical response. Without a second glance, he walked into the bedroom.
Celina tried not to drool as she watched him go. The second he was out of sight, she glanced at the phone and debated whether to call Mindy.
And say what? Be careful, werewolves are sniffing around your house? Watch out, werewolves are real? She’d have her committed.
“Celina,” Slade’s raspy voice called out.
She recognized the tone immediately. He only sounded sexy like that when he wanted some, wanted her. The realization dispersed her doubts and bolstered her hopes.
“What, babe?” she asked.
“I’m hungry,” he said, surprising her.
Celina glanced at the food on the table. “You want me to heat up the plate?”
“I don’t want food,” he said. “I want you to get your butt in here and take your clothes off.”
Desire mingled with defeat. Celina couldn’t resist his call, hadn’t been able to from the start. Slade had come into her life and stolen her soul.
No, not stolen, she thought. She’d given it to him willingly. Wrapped it in a bow and handed her soul over, along with her self-respect.
Celina reached for the bottom of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. She hadn’t bothered to put on a bra, since Slade didn’t like them. He wanted easy and fast access. She dropped the shirt onto the floor and slowly strolled into the bedroom.
Slade was lying on top of her white comforter with his back pressed against the wrought-iron headboard. He was gloriously naked, waiting for her. His tight fist encased his swollen flesh, emphasizing his arousal.
Celina gulped, drinking in the sight of him. He was big and thick. Everything about him was sheer perfection. “You’re beautiful.”
He ignored the compliment as if it were his due. “About time,” he said, stroking himself. “This isn’t going to suck itself.”
Celina let out a desperate whimper and dropped to her knees.
“That’s a good girl,” Slade said, as she brushed his hands aside and grasped him, then slowly lowered her head.
* * * * *
Chapter Eight
The sun had barely peeked its golden head above the horizon, when Nic arrived at work the next morning. He punched in his security code and the large metal gate swung open. Nic pulled through and stopped, waiting for the gate to close behind him.
They’d had a security breach not long ago. Jenna Dane’s “ex” had broken onto the estate and threatened to expose the Kin.
The problem had been dealt with swiftly, but he and the other wolves had become more vigilant about the pack’s security.
The woods rushed by as Nic meandered down the long drive. The concrete and stone manor came into view as the trees parted and the road split in two. If he veered right, he’d go toward the circular drive in front of the house.
He went left. Most of Aidan’s estate was still asleep, but the lights were on in the garage as he pulled his truck up and parked.
Nic walked in to find Josh Dubois and Bernie Macklemore already hard at work.
“Morning,” Nic said, and went straight for the pot of coffee on the shelf.
Josh popped his dark head out from beneath the hood of the sports car he was working on. He was a wiry twenty-something who laughed as much as he talked and had the kind of energy that would shame that battery- operated bunny. “You look like crap. Must’ve been some night.” Josh grinned and his youthful eyes danced with glee.
Bernie slid out from under the sedan he’d been
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