Page 5 of Witchwolf

“No, thank you.”

As we approached the house, Luna, my virtual assistant, automatically turned on the lights. The interior lit up before I opened the door, inviting Dakota inside.

Truth told, the house was too big for me alone. When I’d first bought it, Jillian lived here full time too, but as the company had taken off, she’d gotten a place of her own. Balancing the business with pack dynamics meant a lot of us valued our alone time more than the packs we’d grown up with. Nothing about listening to a man drone on in a business meeting made anyone want to cuddle up with him in a giant puppy pile.

“This is... nice,” Dakota said, his voice a little strained as he looked around the open living area.

“Thanks. Can’t really take credit for it myself, but I think it’s comfortable.” The interior designer had gone for something between clean modern lines and an old hunting lodge. Exposed wooden beams crisscrossed the high ceilings and framed the full-wall windows. Turned out, no wolf could really escape a love for fur pelts, even on two legs.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“That’d be great,” Dakota said.

I turned into the open kitchen, but by the time I turned back around, he was gone.

“Dakota?”

Nothing.

I found him in my bedroom, standing just inside the door, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in.

“One-track mind, huh?”

Dakota started and looked at me, eyes wide enough that I could see the whites all around for a split second before his gaze softened and he accepted the glass of water.

He took a tiny sip. “You don’t want me looking around?”

“Oh, no,” I said. “Please, look all you’d like.” I tugged open the buttons of my shirt one by one, letting my shirt spread wide over my chest as I followed the trail down and down.

Dakota’s gaze dropped with the motion of my hand, and a satisfied smile crept onto my face.

“I’m just happy to find you in such convenient proximity to my bed.”

He made a tight sound in his throat. One step closed the gap between us. I took his glass, set it on the dresser, and kissed him hungrily, gratified when he rushed to slip his hands beneath my shirt and feel my chest.

Werewolves ran hot, so his hands were almost cool against my overheated skin. I growled, wrapping an arm around the small of his back and drawing him up on his toes. When I tilted him back, he opened for me, going slack in my grip, but for those questing hands that shoved my shirt and jacket onto the floor.

When I straightened and pulled him up, Dakota took the chance to hop up, and I caught his firm ass in one hand while he wrapped his legs around my hips. Goddamn those jeans had to have some kind of stretch to let him do this, but I felt good with him in my arms, his full weight in my care already.

I carried him over to the bed—made up by the wolf I’d hired to clean during the day when I was gone—and tipped him back onto the cashmere throw draped oh-so carefully across the end.

Though I held myself above him, I slipped an arm behind his head and leaned in to press down on him, his chest to mine, his tank not enough to keep me from feeling his body. His soft black hair tickled my forearm, and I grinned against his lips. Maybe Jillian had been right—I needed this before the harried bullshit of the next few weeks. For the first time in days, I felt relaxed. Happy, even.

“What?” he asked, blinking up at me, flushed and beautiful.

“Nothing.” I kissed him again and drew myself back. “I need you naked.”

Dakota’s breath caught, but he nodded, already squirming and pulling up the hem of his shirt.

That left me with his pants, his boots, and—well, the wolf got distracted.

I’d unbuckled his jeans and spread them wide, and the scent of his skin and the wet spot on his silky briefs sent me spinning. With a moan, I leaned down and pressed a kiss beneath his bellybutton, breathing in deep.

Had anyone ever smelled so good? It didn’t seem possible.

He was all ginger from his earlier drink, and the vanillin of old books, and the undeniable scent of man. Combined, it was intoxicating.

Nuzzling his stomach and the dip just inside his hip bone made pulling off his boots clumsier than I’d intended, but it wasn’t long before I had them off and could tug his jeans and briefs down all at once.

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