Page 56 of Mated
I snort but trail Nisha inside.
The store is a wash of indie brands in every color imaginable. Like walking into a fucking rainbow with high price tags.
Nisha hovers at my side. "So ... What am I looking for?"
My head turns slowly. I let my eyes trail from her battered sneakers up to the high ponytail she seems to prefer. My body hardens.
Shit.
"No shoes. You won't need them," I exhale. "Think soft, movable. You need to be able to run in whatever you wear, and if you do shift, you won't mourn the loss. But it needs to be somewhat formal. A pack run is a ritual. A way to tie the group together. That begins with observing certain traditions."
"Like?"
"There are several rites and any discrepancies or issues will be brought up and resolved.”
She nods.
“Most women will be wearing dresses," I say honestly. "It's not sexist. But when you run, you will feel the heat. The wind. Everything about a pack run is sensual, invigorating. Every branch that touches your flesh is like a lover's nails. Scratching, drawing you closer. The scents of earth and fire are primordial. Primal. It brings out the beast in all of us. The darker more savage instincts. That is also why ... You can’t wear underwear."
Her full pink lips part. "What?"
I turn to face her fully, catching the blooming heat along her collarbones. The urge to lean in and inhale her scent is demanding. Hard to ignore. "No panties or thongs. No bra either. You’ll want easy access for your partner. And it wastes less fabric."
She gulps. "Partner?"
My smile is all teeth. "You will lay with someone tonight, Nisha. Be they male or female. Or both." Her flush scorches across her pretty cheeks. I want to turn her backside the same color as I bend her over before me. My hands clench. "By the end of the night, you will have someone between those lush thighs, sweetheart. And everything you thought you knew about sex ... It will go out the proverbial fucking window."
Chapter 25
Nisha
It takes everything I have not to grab Tanner and push him to the floor. But standing there, with his silver eyes fixed on me, I can't move. I'm frozen like a deer in headlights. But inside? Lava.
Every word the man speaks is fucking sin. Hot and sexy in that near rumbling drawl. I want to climb him like a tree. My core is hot, slick. I need to be filled. To be taken. It's not a want anymore. It's a need.
Please, to whatever god may be listening, ease the desire. Just a little.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. "Okay. No underwear and a dress. Got it."
His smile grows wild. He looks like the big bad wolf. Like he wants to eat me alive. And boy oh boy do I want to let him.
Instead I dive into the racks of clothes, Caine tight on my heels.
"How about this one?" he says casually, grabbing a gown and reaching around my body to offer me a glimpse.
My head continues to spin. "Where is he?" I breathe.
“The cat?” A pause. "Near the entrance. He is watching the exterior. Why--"
I grab his arm and haul him deeper into the store. He makes no sound, merely follows.
At the rear, obscured by numerous racks and a short partition wall, I turn to Caine with a glower. "What are you doing?"
His crimson eyes widen. "Beg pardon?"
I motion frantically down my body. "This—this heat!" I snap.
Something like sympathy moves across his sinister face. "Oh, kitten," he all but croons. "That is not me."
