Mate Bond

The heat of him came to her, along with his wild scent. The strength of him quivering under her touch made Kenzie flush with warmth.

 

Bowman’s entire body went rigid. No one touched an alpha when he was at the height of his anger, especially not when he was this close to shifting.

 

No one but his mate.

 

“Hey, Bowman,” Kenzie said, letting her voice drawl in a sultry way. “You seeing someone else now? I’m going to get jealous.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

 

 

Kenzie, her arm still around Bowman, pinned the pseudo-groupie with a stare that she hoped showed a hint of feral red.

 

The woman backed a step under their collective gazes, and Bowman, thank the Goddess, released the woman’s wrist. Kenzie remained draped over him, pretending not to feel every bit of tension in his body that told her he did not want her there.

 

The woman opened her mouth to deliver a final word. Her wolf ears had slid back on her head, and her makeup was running with her sweat. But she apparently thought better of speaking, and turned and walked hurriedly away. Her fake wolf tail waved as she went.

 

As soon as she disappeared back into the roadhouse, Bowman spun around. He did it so fast, Kenzie didn’t have time to let go of him.

 

She found herself holding six-feet-eight of enraged Shifter. Bowman’s body was tight, his gray eyes almost white with the suppressed change. The wolf in him was furious and wanted to hunt, to bring down and tear apart prey.

 

With any other Lupine, Kenzie might laugh and suggest he needed a beer—she’d buy. But Bowman wasn’t going to calm down. While Kenzie didn’t blame him—that woman was up to no good and might be dangerous—he had to stand down, or he might do something that would get them all into trouble.

 

Only one thing could soothe a wolf as dominant as Bowman. The touch of a mate.

 

Kenzie ran her hands over Bowman’s shoulders, the tension in him incredible. He didn’t want to calm down. He wanted a run.

 

Well, he could do that, but not right now. Other people were coming out of the roadhouse, paying no attention to them in the darkness. Some got into trucks and cars to drive home or on to the next bar; others lingered to talk and laugh. Bowman was too close to wild not to try to turn one of them into prey.

 

Bowman glared at Kenzie, but she didn’t ease off. She skimmed her hands down his hard chest, feeling his heart beating crazily, his skin hot under his shirt. His growls continued to rumble—if anything, growing louder.

 

She kept up her massage, moving her hands in circles on his chest, pressing her body against his. He was incredibly warm in the January cold, his mating heat starting to take over the killing need.

 

Bowman seized her wrists in a grip that would have hurt anyone else. “Kenzie, you need to stop.”

 

Kenzie flattened herself against him. She felt him with her whole body now, his heartbeat against hers, his breath on her skin, the hardness of his entire body.

 

“Not until you can walk inside without throwing people all over the tables.”

 

Bowman’s growl rumbled. “I don’t like anyone watching my Shifters.”

 

“I get that. But she’s gone.”

 

“People like that always come back.”

 

“I know.”

 

If he’d been anyone else, Kenzie might be tempted to get up in his face, wag her finger at him, bean him with sarcasm or bitchy words, but she knew better than to try it with Bowman. She knew him, and what he’d respond to.

 

Bowman’s eyes at least had lost their spark of killing rage. Another spark flared in him, though, and Kenzie knew she was in trouble. Not that she minded. It had been a while. Too long.

 

Bowman’s grip on her wrists tightened, his growl returning, but softer now, with a different note. Kenzie responded with a low growl of her own.

 

That was all it took. Bowman hauled her against him, arms coming around her to scoop her into him. She saw his eyes, still white gray, before he closed them on his way to parting her lips with a searing kiss. Kenzie bent back under his onslaught, curling her fingers against his chest.

 

She wanted this. Every time they came together, Kenzie was so hopeful, not only for the intense pleasure he could bestow, but for what might come of their mating frenzy. Another cub, maybe. Or the mate bond.

 

Bowman wanted these things too. He never said so, but she knew.

 

Kenzie sank into the kiss, but Bowman broke it all too soon and started pulling her toward the darkness at the edge of the parking lot. He nearly hauled Kenzie off her feet, he moved so fast, but he would never slow his pace for her. She was Lupine, and alpha, and he knew she could keep up with him. He expected it, which was both flattering and frustrating at the same time.

 

The parking lot ended in the beginning of a dense woods of old pine trees whose boles rose a hundred feet in the air before they sprouted branches. Kenzie found the rough bark of one at her back as Bowman shoved her against it.

 

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