Chapter 2
Chapter 2
A ddison Greene could be exactly what he needed. Sure, it was fun trading off with Connor for walks and general companionship, but Fenn was a romantic at heart and Connor was a platonic friend. Addison, though…maybe she could be more than that. But he knew better than to let his metaphorical tail wag before she even knew who he was.
Or what he was.
On the other hand, with Connor out of town, Fenn also hadn’t had the chance to let his dog out. Or, wolf, more accurately. The full moon wasn’t the only thing on the rise: he was half feral with baser urges already and it was barely late afternoon. No wonder he was getting heart eyes over a potential new trainer he’d honestly known for all of five minutes, if you didn’t count her light stalking at the dog park.
But for all the experience listed neatly on her resume, she was still throwing off novice vibes. Hopeful, but her confidence seemed manufactured, rather than eased in over years of training. But there didn’t seem to be anything dangerous or sinister about the pretty blond when he scented her–only the intoxicating scent of her .
Fenn didn’t actually have anything to work on—there was only so much paperwork you could process for a dog training school–but he had to make it look real. He scattered folders across the desk: finished paperwork for a long roster of “special” clients they’d had for years.
Clients who, like him, needed a little time to let their inner wolves go on walkies without fear of discovery or capture, particularly around the full moon.
Day rolled into night. Fenn’s glances at the clock became more frequent until the digital wall clock finally read 7:45–fifteen minutes to moonrise. He sat bolt upright as the faintest wisp of her scent drifted through his senses, all gentle musk and barely-there laundry detergent and the intoxicating aroma of steak she must have had for lunch . And best of all, rosemary. He wanted to stick his face in that scent, rub his nose all over her, roll around in that scent.
Down, boy .
When Addison actually walked in the door, he had to stop himself from wiggling his hips–the closest he could get to wagging his tail in human form.
She’d mentioned coming from a training session earlier, but she’d been wearing business casual during her earlier visit. Fenn also hadn’t smelled any other dogs on her. Had she managed to squeeze in a shower and outfit change after that strange run-in at Pampered Paws?
He could still smell the slightly alkaline water she bathed in and the fresh scent of her shampoo. Fuck, he loved the smell of rosemary. Wolves loved strong scents, largely because their sense of smell was more than a hundred times more powerful than a human’s. It was all in the nose—humans lost track of scents when they exhaled, but canines had separate passages for inhaling and exhaling, a handy trait that carried over to werewolves, too, albeit muted in their human forms. Even still, Fenn could pick up the barest nuances of perfumes, foods, and more if he concentrated.
Or if he was adequately enticed, like when they smelled as fucking good as the beautiful woman across the counter. Shit, don’t drool .
“Howdy.” She gave him a shy little smile and finger wave.
Those big brown eyes of hers were going to positively do him in. So was the full-scale workout gear that showed off her body. Everything about her told him she was ready for business–including the faint whiffs of attraction pheromones every time she glanced his way. It only made the delusional little puppy in him worse. He was used to appreciative stares, but there was something different about hers that made it actually matter. He wanted her, plain and simple.
“Addison,” he greeted a bit too warmly, willing his inner beast down. “Are you all ready?”
She nodded eagerly. “Let me at him.”
Woof .
He bit back a grin and hauled the basket of supplies off the floor, setting them on the desk. She leaned in, picking through the gear curiously, her hand pausing on the muzzle. Her eyes flicked up to his again, brow furrowed with concern.
“You guys really use muzzles here?” she asked. “Aren’t they…”
His heart was beating a mile a minute. Connor never let him wear the muzzle, said it would look bad for the school. This was pushing boundaries a bit.
“Fenn’s different. The muzzle makes him feel safe. Controlled. It lets him know you’re in charge, that he’s at your whims and desires.”
Her lashes fluttered unconsciously on ‘desires’ and he caught that reassuring whiff of arousal once more. It meant that he wasn’t a total psychopath for hoping he had a chance with her. She was definitely at least a little attracted to his human self.
“Well, I suppose if he likes it,” she said absently, tracing the muzzle with her fingers, that delicate mouth still curved in a slight frown.
“He really likes it,” Fenn murmured before he could stop himself.
He slid further down in the desk chair, suddenly needing to hide his rapidly-growing erection. Stupid moon .
“Anyway.” He cleared his throat nervously: in for a penny, in for a pound . “you’ll need to text me a picture of him wearing it. A lot of trainers are uncomfortable handling muzzling, and since I won’t be out there to keep a closer eye on you, I’ll need…proof. To show Connor.”
Fenn, you sly dog . You’re one fucked up pup. He swallowed hard, stomach flipping at how far he was pressing his luck.
But to see her truly reining him in? To have a picture of his submission? It was deeply wrong but felt anything but. He knew this was so fucking unethical but he just couldn’t stop himself when the opportunity was sitting right there like a slow, fat squirrel. That damned moon.
“Oh. Yeah, sure, no problem,” she shrugged, unaware of the way his heart soared at the casual agreement. “So, are you going to introduce us?”
“Tell you what,” Fenn said, opening a pointless file to hide his own nerves, “why don’t you head out back, familiarize yourself with our dog park, and I’ll send him out to you. That way you can get the lay of the land and meet organically. I need to get on a work call.”
He pulled a key from the drawer and tossed it to her. She caught it squarely, though her surprised expression suggested she hadn’t expected to.
“Nice catch,” he praised with a grin. “That’s the key to the storage shed out there. If there’s anything missing from the supply basket, feel free to root around—if you’d like.”
She nodded, glancing at the key in her palm. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head, planning how she’d handle his canine self. Even so, her scent had bittered a little with an odd, metallic note of stress. Was she worried about him ? The idea was nuts—he prided himself on being show-quality and super docile. He was going to be such a good boy for her.
“So you’ll really be in here the whole time?” Her scent ramped up that metallic note as she asked the question, though she held her chin up, expression determined.
“Yep, these suppliers yap endlessly.” He forced an aggrieved grin, willing his dick to settle down so he could stand up.
The thought of Addison controlling him was making that pretty damn hard. Literally. He was surprised the fucking thing wasn’t knocking ‘shave and a haircut’ on the underside of the counter desk.
“Um, cool,” she said, wrapping her arms around the basket. “So I’ll see you in…about an hour, then?”
Blessed moon, a whole hour with her! He gave an affirmative grunt without taking his eyes off the folder in front of him, not trusting his tongue to stay professional. If he’d had a tail in this form, it would have been audibly banging against the chair back right now.
She walked to the door and paused, realizing she didn’t have any free hands to pull the handle, looking back at him for assistance. He buried his face in another open file, pretending he didn’t see as she turned back to the door. Being overtly rude wasn’t his style, but her mild annoyance was better than displaying the obscene erection currently testing the seam of his pants. Honestly, her mild annoyance made it worse. You dirty, dirty dog.
Her soft grumbling was followed by a self-deprecating little laugh, and with a grunt of effort and the jingle of the door bells, Addison was outside, lack of hands be damned.
He groaned as soon as she was out the door, nearly collapsing across the counter. He’d just have to shift half-hard like this. Well, she was a trainer, right? She knew how to keep dogs in line, surely even visibly aroused ones. He suppressed another groan at the thought.
All dogs may go to heaven, but desperately horny werewolves probably went somewhere a lot hotter.