Page 13 of Her Convict Wolf

“Hi.” She waves self-consciously. “I’m just going to take a shower.”

“Sure thing.” I stretch casually, trying not to stare as she pads off.

When the bathroom door shuts, I get up—although every nerve in my body wants me to bust in the bathroom and join her in the shower.

Instead, I go through to the kitchen. It’s a nice little room. There’s a slatted blind at the window—that’s smart. Good for providing privacy. I ease the slats apart with two fingers and peer through. There’s a building directly opposite that looks kind of abandoned. Not good. If I was going to watch Emory, that’s exactly where I’d hang out. I locate the coffee maker, fill it up and flick it on.

A few minutes later, the smell of good coffee fills my nostrils. I sure missed real coffee while I was in jail. Along with food that I’d hunted myself, and freedom to run. Being locked in like this has been hell for my animal. It’s been starting to go a little stir crazy. I even volunteered for the chain gang, knowing that being outdoors would give it a little respite, no matter that I was chained at wrist and ankle. And thank the heavens that I made that decision. If I hadn’t, I would never have come across Emory again.

I go to the fridge and see what’s in there. I want to make her breakfast, but to be honest, cooking is not my forte. I try to remember what she liked eating as a little kid. I shake my head. That was dumb. It was probably chicken nuggets and fries. As if she’d enjoy eating the same things now. She’s a grown woman.

There’s a click as the bathroom door opens again. A jolt of electricity goes through me, but I force myself not to turn around. She doesn’t want to feel like I’m watching her. I hear her pad into the bedroom. I pour out two mugs of coffee and when I’m done, she’s back again.

She’s wearing a tight black V-neck shirt and tight black jeans, and she’s breathtaking. Her hair is wet and tousled, like she just towel-dried it, and her eyes are huge and sparkling blue, full of the morning sunlight.

My breath catches in my throat because now they remind me of those eyes that I knew from before.

She flashes me another self-conscious smile, which connects directly with my cock. I turn my head sharply, break the eye contact. Gotta keep my beast under control.

“I just dug some things out for you,” she says. Belatedly, I notice she’s carrying a phone and a bundle of clothes. “This is my spare phone. The WIFI’s already connected and we can get you a SIM on the way to work.”

“I sure appreciate that.” My girl’s so smart and resourceful, I think as I unravel the clothes. There’s a gray T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Both man-sized. My beast gives a bellow of jealous rage.

“You have a boyfriend?” I burst out. I’m already imagining tearing him to pieces.

She blinks. “N-no. I’m single.”

My beast withdraws an inch.An ex-boyfriend then?I survey the clothes. They’re massive—shifter-sized. She’s been dating some beastly asshole who’s not capable of protecting her? I’ll rip his head off. Make him wish he’d never been born.

“They were lying in the closet when I moved in here,” she continues. “Think they belong to some guy who was mated to a girl who used to live here.”

Ohh. Someone else’s boyfriend. I can stop being a jealous lunatic. I shove my animal back down.

“There’s never been anyone else,” she says, so quietly I almost miss it.

I go still.Did she really just say that?

She’s a virgin, just as I thought. Untouched, since the last time I saw her.

I avoid looking her in the eye, for what she might see in my expression. But when I finally dare to fix my gaze on hers, her lower lip is trembling, but she looks… eager.Like she really wanted me to know?

Need pours through me like liquid fire.

Damn. I need to get out of here, before I try to seduce her.

“Thanks for the clothes.” I lift my hands in a clumsy gesture. “I’ll just go shower.”

She closes her eyes, like she’s relieved. “Bathroom’s just there.”

I close myself into the bathroom and lean against the door. Shit. The atmosphere in there was electric. I could barely hide my feelings from her, or keep my beast under control.

I strip off my dirty T-shirt and prison jumpsuit and jump right into the shower. The shower gel is a pink, feminine scented thing, but I squirt it into my hand and rub it over my body eagerly. I love that I’m using the shower gel she just used to cleanse her own body with.

Did she use a sponge or her hand?I wonder as I lather up my torso, then move down to my cock. Does she use her hand to wash her little pussy, her small fingers sliding between the slippery folds? Does it turn her on to touch herself like that?

Shit,my hand is pumping up and down my cock as I imagine her in here, naked, caressing her own breasts, her little pussy. I imagine she’s with me now. How I’d lift her up, wrap her legs around my waist and plunge my huge, slippery cock into her tiny virgin hole.

She’s mine. Every bit of me knows it.

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