11. Paul #4
Not even a little.
As much as the kiss was unplanned, and definitely unwise, it lasted only a moment. Just long enough for my brain to kick in and ask me what the hell I was doing.
I jerked my head back and let go of Cherry, but she didn’t let go of me. Suddenly, the happy expression on her lovely face morphed into something much more heated, her normally bright eyes cloudy and half-lidded.
“You kissed me,” she whispered. If her tone had been anything else, I would have worried that I offended her. But offense was far from the expression on her face.
“I did,” I answered matter-of-factly. I’d told her not to lie to me again, so why would I ever lie to her? It would make me a hypocrite. I might have been an idiot, but I wasn’t that.
Her arms tightened around my shoulders, and she leaned her head down so her lips almost brushed mine as she spoke.
“Do it again.”
A tempting idea, but both my wolf and the parts of myself that I didn’t often pay attention to rose to the surface at the challenge in her voice. I stood, one of my hands gently wrapping around her neck.
Not to squeeze, not to mark, but just letting her feel the weight of it resting like a necklace.
Hmm… she would look beautiful with a mating collar on.
That thought managed to shake me out of my reverie, and I jerked my hand back to my side. If Cherry found it awkward, she didn’t say so. Instead, her grin grew defiant, and she stared into my eyes.
“I said do it again. ”
The day had not gone at all how I’d expected. I’d experienced such a gauntlet of emotions that now I just wanted release. To give in to my primal side and stop having to think so much.
It was reckless. Inappropriate. But why deny myself when Cherry was so adamant?
How long had it been since I’d allowed myself to indulge my more carnal side? Too long. Far too long.
“Ask nicely,” I rumbled. This time, when I rested my hand on her neck, I didn’t let go immediately. No, I stared down at her, daring her to keep challenging me while simultaneously keeping an eye (or rather a nose) on her pheromones. All I could scent was attraction, lust, and keen interest.
A stunningly potent combination.
The smile that spread across Cherry’s face was unrepentant, unabashed, undiluted sin. All wickedness and temptation.
And I didn’t mind it.
She pushed up on her tiptoes, pressing her neck into my palm, demanding more pressure as she started up into my eyes. Could I really forget everything she’d done so quickly? Did she and the cross-stitching honeypot have more in common than just yarn arts?
“Make. Me.”
Who the fuck cares?
The practical Paul, the logical Paul, went bye-bye, and I kissed her for all I was worth.
It wasn’t the kiss of lovers, because we weren’t lovers. We were just two consenting adults who’d survived a harrowing experience and were taking a little solace where we could find it. Or perhaps even two lonely souls enjoying each other’s company.
And that was okay. We didn’t need to be anything else.
“ Mmmph! ” Cherry blurted, her words muffled against my mouth. Even so, I understood what she wanted.
I squeezed her neck. Not enough to constrict her breathing, but just enough to make her breath hitch before I let go and picked her up, setting her on the table.
“Fuck,” she hissed, her hands moving to the hem of my tank top.
I expected her to jerk it up over my head, but no, Cherry proved that her muscle was as practical as it was aesthetic, because she ripped the fabric right down the middle.
Her nails scored down my chest, and she looked up at me without a hint of remorse.
Of course she would be a brat.
But I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I liked the steel to her, the cheeky resistance. It made my inner wolf long to dominate and, well, my human side was pretty much in the same boat.
“Have you ever been with a shifter before?” I asked, resisting the urge to kiss her breathless once more. I had to make sure we were on even footing before we went any further.
She shook her head, but then her hand was pressing against my cock, separated only by my tactical pants and underwear. “No, but I’ve done my research.”
“Research?” I questioned, feeling a flicker of warning in my head. “You wanted something like this to happen.”
That sobered her, and she shook her head. “What? No! Not like that! Once I was on the case, I did a bunch of Googling on wolf shifter anatomy to figure out what the assassin might have done or trained in.”
Okay, time to course correct. “And you liked what you found?” I murmured, letting my voice drop low enough that she would have to strain to understand me.
She licked her lips, and my gaze tracked her pretty, pink tongue. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Well…” She batted her eyes at me, and fuck, I really was caught up in the rawness of it all. No thoughts of consequences, just the moment. “It’s hard to judge from the photos. I figured I might need to see in person.”
“Is that so?” I rumbled, yanking her to the edge of the table so she could feel the hard line of my erection against her leggings.
“It is so,” she shot back. “ Enthusiastically so.”
There it was. As much as my wolf was working himself into a frenzy, wanting to mark, to mate, and as much as my human side wanted an uncomplicated release, there were some lines I wouldn’t cross.
And as much as parts of me craved dominating someone strong, none of me wanted anyone who wasn’t completely into what we were doing.
“Good girl,” I growled, and fuck, if I didn’t like the way Cherry’s heart skipped a beat. “How attached are you to these clothes?”
Her gaze was full of fire as she replied, and I wanted to see which of us would burn first. “They’re replaceable. Do what you gotta do.”
Didn’t need to ask me twice.
I went for her shirt first, tearing it like she’d torn mine. My canines extended at the sight of her breasts, barely contained in her sports bra. Although she wasn’t particularly buxom, that didn’t matter. She was so gorgeous, I was struck speechless.
Luckily, my mouth was plenty occupied doing something else entirely.
I kissed Cherry hard as I peeled her leggings down her hips. I made it as far as I could while she was sitting on them, then guided her back so she was supine on the table, art supplies spilling to the floor.
We paid them no mind. Not even the model. All of that was secondary to us getting our hands on each other.
When her energy drink clattered to the floor, a few sickly sweet drops of it sneaking into my sense of smell, I came back to myself one last time.
“We probably shouldn’t do this.” It was messy. A poor choice. I was doing the classic blunder of being distracted by a con woman’s beauty and charm when she’d already betrayed me once.
And the craziest thing was that I believed her. Still, after everything, I truly believed that she wanted to help and solve the mystery.
“Probably,” she agreed, sitting up and kicking her leggings off until they were hanging off one ankle. It probably should have been a comical sight, but all I could see was the little triangle of teal fabric sitting between her pale, inviting thighs.
And then she opened said thighs, still not blinking as she looked at me. “Do you wanna stop?”
“No. Do you?”
She shook her head, biting her kiss-swollen lips as she looked up at me through her lashes. “I want more.”
How could I resist that?