Chapter Two #2
His mouth tore from hers. His hands slid under her white sweater and touched smooth, soft skin.
His fingers trailed up her back, raising her sweater, and then tossing it aside.
She smiled at him, sexiness personified.
A white, lacy bra covered what he knew were truly sensational breasts, and he wanted her bra gone.
A swipe of his hands, and the bra seemed to just fall away.
Wish granted.
He scooped her up—he’d always been able to hold her easily, but he didn’t seem to feel her weight at all—and Oliver lifted her high so that he could clamp his mouth greedily over one breast.
She arched against him, and her short nails dug into his arms. He growled in reaction. She was so sensitive, so quick to meet his passion—so fast to drive him wild.
He took a few, fast steps forward and pinned her to the wall even as he turned his attention to her other breast. He greedily licked and sucked her nipple. Her moans and frantic gasps were music to his ears.
“Bedroom,” she managed, her voice a husky temptation. “Let’s go to—”
He wanted her naked right there. He wanted to slam into her right there.
Because she’d been correct. He had come to her house that night to break things off.
It had seemed the only safe choice. But if Gia was right with her ideas, if he wasn’t going to turn again, or, maybe only turn on a full moon…
We can make this work. I can have her. I don’t have to give up the only woman I’ve ever loved. And he did love her. So much that sometimes, the intensity of that love scared him.
What would I do if something happened to her? Protecting Gia was something of an obsession for him.
He carried her to the bedroom. She wrapped her legs around him. Rubbed her sex against the thick ridge of his cock. He could not wait to be driving deep and hard into her. They’d find oblivion together—maybe find it a few times. When it came to Gia, he was always insatiable.
Her bedroom was lit with soft, white Christmas lights. Gia had strung them around the four posts of her bed. That soft light was the only illumination in the room, and it just made her look even more gorgeous to him.
He put her on the bed. Grabbed her jeans. She’d already kicked off her heels, and she helped him to push those jeans over her hips and down her amazing legs. Then he reached for her panties.
They tore beneath his grip.
Somewhere, a faint whisper seemed to tease his mind.
Almost…a whisper of warning?
He ignored the warning. Oliver stripped and jumped onto the bed with her. She laughed as she reached for him. Her laugh warmed his heart. No one but Gia ever joked with him. No one but Gia could make him smile. Could make him feel like he fit in someplace.
Her hands slid down his chest, then trailed over his abs.
“Your body is insane,” she whispered. “In case I haven’t told you a thousand times, you are super hot.”
He smiled. God, Gia, I love you.
Her fingers curled around his dick. Squeezed. Pumped. Made his eyes want to roll back into his head.
“You are super hot,” she said again, “and you taste super good.” She pushed him back. Crawled over him. Down him. Took the head of his cock into her mouth. Her hot, wet, driving-him-past-sanity mouth.
His hands flew out and clamped around the sheets. It was either fist the sheets or grab her—and he didn’t want to grab her too hard. She was so much smaller than he was.
He heard a ripping. Ignored it.
Another strange whisper of warning seemed to trickle through his mind.
Be…careful…
She took him in deeper. His hips surged up toward her mouth. He wasn’t going to last this way.
He wasn’t—
Something snapped in him. A savage snarl broke from his lips, and Gia let him go. Her head jerked up. “Oliver?”
He tumbled her back onto the bed. Caught her legs. Spread them wide.
Her smile came again as she reached for him. He could see her sex. Moist and ready. He put his cock toward her and his fingers—
Claws.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
“Do not make me wait! You are an evil tease.” She pushed her hips up toward him. “I want you!”
He wanted her. Wanted nothing more. But he was staring at fucking claws. His gaze flew around the bed and Oliver realized…
I cut through the sheets. When he’d been grabbing them moments before, his claws had sliced through them.
Oh, no. More sickening realization. I cut through her panties. He’d sliced them with his claws, not torn them.
I could fucking slice her.
“No!” Oliver jumped from the bed and spun to put his back to her. His voice had come out all wrong. Too deep. Distorted. A shudder worked over his body. He swore that he could feel the wolf trying to surge forward.
“Oliver?” Uncertain. “What’s wrong?”
Everything. He grabbed his jeans. Managed to jerk them on, only to realize that the button had been ripped away. He’d done that. Have to get out of here. Oliver hurried down the hallway and ignored Gia when she called out for him.
He found her bra in the den. When he’d taken it off earlier, it had just seemed to fall away.
His fingers—tipped with claws—picked up the bra. The straps had been sliced straight through. I could have sliced her just as easily. I could have cut Gia. He hadn’t even realized his claws had come out when he’d been kissing her.
Her scent hit him—so sweet and warm, and tinted with her arousal—right before he heard the fast rush of her footsteps coming behind him.
“Oliver! Tell me what’s happening!”
His dick was still rock hard. He wanted her more than he wanted breath. And he had claws. If he took her, he’d hurt her.
Must not hurt Gia.
But her hand curled over his shoulder, and she pulled him to face her. “Look at me!”
He did.
Oliver caught the flash of shock on her face. A flash that she quickly tried to disguise, but it was too late. Swearing, he shot toward the mantel—or rather, toward the heavy, antique mirror that hung over her mantel. Oliver stared at his own reflection.
A monster stared back.
His golden eyes seemed to glow.
His cheeks were hollower, sharper.
As were his teeth.
What. The. Hell?
He slapped a hand over his mouth. A claw-tipped hand.
In the mirror, he saw Gia inching toward him. His shoulders stiffened, and he dropped his hand. “Stop.”
She did. Her gaze met his in the mirror. “It’s—”
“Do not tell me things are fucking okay. I was changing during sex! I cut the sheets. I cut your bra. I could have cut you!”
She lifted her hand, as if she’d touch him.
He whirled toward her—a move that felt too fast—and caught her hand in an instant. “Don’t.”
Tears swam in her dark eyes.
“You shouldn’t want to touch me. You shouldn’t want to be near me.”
“I love you.”
He loved her. That was why… “You won’t see me again.”
Her head shook. “No.”
“I’m leaving tonight.” All of this was what he’d planned to tell her before.
Before he’d been weak and hopeful. “Going someplace remote where I can figure out what the hell is happening.” Though he knew—I’m a werewolf.
And, apparently, a werewolf who started to transform when he got horny.
Fucking hell. “I will get control of the beast. I won’t hurt anyone. ”
Hope lit her stare. “Then you’ll come back?”
No, he wouldn’t because…
Your control will always be weak with her.
That warning whisper was in his head again, only this time, it was stronger, and Oliver knew that he was staring at his greatest weakness.
“I won’t be back.” He looked at her hand—his fingers were still wrapped around her wrist—and the diamond ring on her delicate finger glinted.
“Tell your friends and family that I’m a bastard.
That I broke up with you on Christmas Eve.
” Because that was exactly what that night was—Christmas Eve.
“Don’t do this.” A desperate plea.
His gaze slid tenderly over her. His beautiful Gia. Curved and gorgeous. Funny and smart. And with a heart so tender and big that she’d opened it up to him. “You can’t love the big, bad wolf.”
Anger flashed on her face. “Don’t tell me what I can do.”
Fine. “The big, bad wolf can’t love you.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
He let her go. His body still ached for her, but it was nothing compared to the way his soul and heart felt. But he strode purposefully toward the door. Refused to look back even when…
“Merry Christmas, Oliver.”
He opened the door. Headed out into the snow. Oliver didn’t make it even five feet before the brutal shift swept over him. As he hit the snow-covered ground, he howled for what he’d lost.