as it looked, could it? I had an urge to check that package. You know, just a quick grope. See for myself.
I knew one thing. He was not getting past me without that, at the very least. Remember...I expected Tommy and Leo soon. I never contemplated the possibility that any man would want to hurt me. Besides my own family--and they’d shown themselves to be remarkably restrained on that, so I pretty much figured all men had control. Yeah, for all my experience, I had been way sheltered. But that’s my story.
Talk about biting off more than you can chew.
Planting my feet, blocking his path, I waited for him. He’d have to run me over or talk to me. It had always worked for me in the past.
He came right up to me, stopped, and I looked him in the eye, daring him to say something. Since he wasn’t smiling, I dropped mine, the closer he got. I knew he liked what he saw. Men like attitude pussy; I don’t care what you say.
He was hulking big. Hunka-lineback shoulders, thick, thick limbs, wide neck. Rusty-colored hair. Light brown eyes. Thin lips. He smelled like booze, menthol, and...something canine. I watched him flatten his nostrils again, smelling me, I’m sure. He took his time about it, too. Tipped his nose and eyes right at my center being.
Saw his whole chest heave as he held in the scent of me. Probably committed it to memory.
Wondering aloud, he asked, “What’s a bastet doing in garou-ville?” A totally common line.
I know it was edgy and maybe a little stupid, but I quipped back with some eye fluttering, “What’s a dog doing without a leash?”
His eyes darkened, but he thought it was funny. His lips turned a little at the corners. Searching my eyes, trying to decide what to do with me, I suspected, he said, “Looking for a keeper, maybe.”
“Aah.” I sounded disappointed. But really, I was trying to figure out if he meant he wanted someone to keep him, or someone he could keep. Either way, it was the most clever comeback I’d heard in a long time.
He leaned close and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
I wanted to get his tongue. I flicked mine out, licked my lips, just to show him that it was loose enough. Gave him a grin and lift of my eyebrows, then bit down on my lower lip. Bold invitation if ever there was one.
Apparently he liked that. Before I could argue the point, he pulled me into his arms, and kissed me. Made me swoon and cling. Seized me.
Lots of tongue. Damn. He was about the best kisser I had ever experienced.
No. He was absolutely the best kisser I had ever experienced. Fucking dog tongue. Reached right down inside of me and licked my heart, I think, because my chest squeezed up on me and all coherent thought slipped from my brain.
He surprised me, picked me up by the waist and turned me in the middle of the kiss, setting me back down behind him. I never even realized it. Until he let go and walked out. Left me facing the door, watching his ass. Holy heaven. Talk about a tight backside.
It took me a couple of seconds to stop reeling, suck my tongue back into my mouth, and chase after him. Just enough to call out. “Hey!”
He hesitated. I saw him pause mid-step, then keep going.
That had me yelling, “I said...hey!” When he didn’t respond to that, I yelled louder, “Son of a bitch!”
Pretty much everyone within hearing turned to look at me then. But it got his attention. He spun on his heels, came back to me and grabbed my arm. Dragging me into the shadows of a deep doorjamb, so people would stop staring, he asked through gritted teeth, “You just trying to get yourself killed?”
I yanked free. “No.” I don’t know which irritated me more...the fact that he’d walked away from me and ignored me when I’d called to him, or the latest insult. I grumbled. “You are, you
I knew one thing. He was not getting past me without that, at the very least. Remember...I expected Tommy and Leo soon. I never contemplated the possibility that any man would want to hurt me. Besides my own family--and they’d shown themselves to be remarkably restrained on that, so I pretty much figured all men had control. Yeah, for all my experience, I had been way sheltered. But that’s my story.
Talk about biting off more than you can chew.
Planting my feet, blocking his path, I waited for him. He’d have to run me over or talk to me. It had always worked for me in the past.
He came right up to me, stopped, and I looked him in the eye, daring him to say something. Since he wasn’t smiling, I dropped mine, the closer he got. I knew he liked what he saw. Men like attitude pussy; I don’t care what you say.
He was hulking big. Hunka-lineback shoulders, thick, thick limbs, wide neck. Rusty-colored hair. Light brown eyes. Thin lips. He smelled like booze, menthol, and...something canine. I watched him flatten his nostrils again, smelling me, I’m sure. He took his time about it, too. Tipped his nose and eyes right at my center being.
Saw his whole chest heave as he held in the scent of me. Probably committed it to memory.
Wondering aloud, he asked, “What’s a bastet doing in garou-ville?” A totally common line.
I know it was edgy and maybe a little stupid, but I quipped back with some eye fluttering, “What’s a dog doing without a leash?”
His eyes darkened, but he thought it was funny. His lips turned a little at the corners. Searching my eyes, trying to decide what to do with me, I suspected, he said, “Looking for a keeper, maybe.”
“Aah.” I sounded disappointed. But really, I was trying to figure out if he meant he wanted someone to keep him, or someone he could keep. Either way, it was the most clever comeback I’d heard in a long time.
He leaned close and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
I wanted to get his tongue. I flicked mine out, licked my lips, just to show him that it was loose enough. Gave him a grin and lift of my eyebrows, then bit down on my lower lip. Bold invitation if ever there was one.
Apparently he liked that. Before I could argue the point, he pulled me into his arms, and kissed me. Made me swoon and cling. Seized me.
Lots of tongue. Damn. He was about the best kisser I had ever experienced.
No. He was absolutely the best kisser I had ever experienced. Fucking dog tongue. Reached right down inside of me and licked my heart, I think, because my chest squeezed up on me and all coherent thought slipped from my brain.
He surprised me, picked me up by the waist and turned me in the middle of the kiss, setting me back down behind him. I never even realized it. Until he let go and walked out. Left me facing the door, watching his ass. Holy heaven. Talk about a tight backside.
It took me a couple of seconds to stop reeling, suck my tongue back into my mouth, and chase after him. Just enough to call out. “Hey!”
He hesitated. I saw him pause mid-step, then keep going.
That had me yelling, “I said...hey!” When he didn’t respond to that, I yelled louder, “Son of a bitch!”
Pretty much everyone within hearing turned to look at me then. But it got his attention. He spun on his heels, came back to me and grabbed my arm. Dragging me into the shadows of a deep doorjamb, so people would stop staring, he asked through gritted teeth, “You just trying to get yourself killed?”
I yanked free. “No.” I don’t know which irritated me more...the fact that he’d walked away from me and ignored me when I’d called to him, or the latest insult. I grumbled. “You are, you
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