He sucked in his breath, his heart slamming against his chest. She was stunning and glorious. The beads of water rolling down her golden body sparkled in the sun. She glistened. All natural. No makeup. No artifice. Everything a female should be. And more. Much more.
Another pheromone cloud engulfed him. Her eyes went large and rounded, as if she guessed she’d zapped him with her hormonal lures, but couldn’t help emitting her sex juice any more than he could. Her nose twitched and she sighed, as if enveloped in a vat of melted chocolate, or whatever the fuck his own mating scent smelled like. He could only hope he gave off an aroma as rich and delicious as she did.
He struggled to control the raw savagery of his attraction and had to tear his eyes from her face. But her breasts…. God, her breasts. Full and high, the exact size to fill his large hands, rose tips jutting toward him. He remembered how she’d touched herself, how much he’d wanted to replace her hands with his. Hell. He wanted to bury his face between those breasts, lapping at her, licking and sucking, taking each one into his mouth, between his lips, grazing the pointed nipples with his teeth until he tore moans of delight from her.
His throat closed, his tongue swelling, filling his suddenly dry mouth, cutting off his ability to utter either animal sounds or inane words. After a beat or two of silence, she glanced away.
“What do you think?” Not shy exactly. Expectant. An undercurrent of doubt laced her question, as if she could not bear to disappoint him, and did not know what to make of his continued speechlessness.
“Perfect.” He rubbed his eyes. “Ah, Christ. You’re perfect.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are to me.”
A smile lit her face, so brilliant it nearly blinded him. His beast purred and lifted his head, butting at the ribs caging him, stamping his paws to indicate agreement like a beered-up Jets fan at MetLife Stadium. “And to the wolf, too,” he added. Important for him to say that. Important for her to know. To appease his brother, include him, if nothing else.
“I enjoy watching you chop wood,” she admitted. “I pray for you to take your shirt off. When the sweat trickles down your body, I get just as hot. Just as wet.”
She swept a long, thick skein of hair off her shoulder, exposing more of her breast. He nearly choked as she fisted the locks, wringing the moisture from them.
“Maybe hotter and wetter. I need to cool off here before I can leave.” Beneath dark lashes, her eyes lifted to his, slanting a bold glance in his direction. “I think of you. But you never come.” She swallowed, as if the words of her confession clunked in her mouth, chunks of broken concrete she was determined to spit out and release. “Why today?”
“Why?” he repeated as if he’d suddenly had a lobotomy. And lost his vocabulary along with his mind. Her scent tantalized him, hypnotized him. Her gentle curves, the soft glow of her skin, the whole package melted what remained of his brain. He couldn’t tear his hot gaze from her. But she didn’t attempt to cover herself. The way he’d refused to hide his colossal hard-on when he shifted back to human form after they raced beneath the full moon. As if they knew each other too well for such false modesty. Maybe they did. But he wanted to know her better. In the full human biblical sense of the word. And every other way under the universe.
Why? The answer came to him suddenly, nearly blinding him. His wolf had known. Because it’s time.
He kicked off his sneaks and surged toward the lake. Plunged, splashing into the water, disturbing the placid surface. A great roaring beast who’d slipped its tether.
She stumbled, taking a surprised step back before standing her ground, and he realized she’d always only watched him from afar, even if his shirtlessness made her “hot” and “wet.” Jesus. The thought alone nearly killed him. He imagined parting her legs with his hands, testing her heat with his fingers until she writhed. Replacing his fingers with his mouth. Sucking her moisture. Tonguing the button of sensation at her core. Inhaling her essence. Tasting her.
Fuck. He needed to be inside her. Like he’d needed nothing before ever in his life.
She reddened as he neared her, as if she hadn’t expected him to come so close. As if she thought he would just continue to hail her from the bank. A chattering whassup from one totally bare-assed friend to another half-naked friend. As if he regularly greeted her as she bathed in his lake in her human form and he’d seen her in her hell yeah holy shit altogether glory many times before. As if he could continue to engage in a little cocktail party hi-hello-how-are-ya without approaching her. Without touching her. Without pouncing on her. As…if….
As if either he or his beast would be A-okay with that.
Yeah. Uh-uh. That’d be a hell no. No. More. Fuckin’. Words.