Page 11 of The Witch's Werewolf
“Be sure of what?”
Cherry isn’t ready to hear about how the wolf DNA in me is programmed me to fixate on one mate for the rest of my life, and she is it for me.
“That I had a shot with you.”
“Wise consideration, since I’m very picky. And hence, still a virgin. Oh goddess, why did I just admit that?”
“A virgin?”
“Please don’t judge.”
“Never. Why would that be a problem?”
Oh, but it’s a huge problem. There’s no way I can let this get any further. Not yet. Cherry’s not ready for what I am. Especially not for the type of mating a werewolf does. What a werewolf must do.
She bites her glossy bottom lip, juicy and full. The sight of it threatens to undo my restraint. My fingers dig into the bathroom door frame.
“I don’t know. But I’ve gotten a lot of shit for it from guys I’ve dated.”
“Well, anyone giving you shit for any reason doesn’t deserve to be with you,” I say.
Cherry quirks her lips. “That’s a bit extreme. Surely I deserve some shit for some things.”
“Doubt it.”
“You’re cute,” she laughs, and the sound is so perfectly tempting I worry I might rip the trim off the doorjamb.
“But for starters, my witch grandmother will give me plenty of shit when she finds out my protection spell misfired and I somehow ended up enthralled by a love spell.”
I’m confused. “Why do you say that?”
Cherry comes closer. My hands relax on the doorjamb.
“How else do I explain why my virgin ass wants to tear you apart right now?” she says, low and breathy and so full of need that my cock jerks.
“Cherry…”
Her perfect brow lifts as she tilts her face toward mine. “Timber?”
It’s all over when she murmurs my name.
I lean in and fit her soft lips against mine.
Cherry’s mouth is too sweet, too soft, and the kiss is too quick.
She pulls back with a surprised look on her face. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are full of questions.
“Was the kiss that bad?” I ask.
She wets her lips and shakes her head. “No. I just don’t know what came over me.” She looks down at her feet. “Darn. I really screwed up that protection spell.”
I dare to gently comb my fingers through her hair, brushing the locks that have gone all different directions while she fitfully slept. She’s got bedhead, and though I find it adorable, I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate being seen in public as is.
“What makes you say that?”
Cherry looks back up at me and shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I should be freaking out more after learning that werewolves are real. And that you, Timber Hawkins, have been stalking me.”
I bite back the words that sit on the tip of my tongue.
