Thankfully, the sun had set and the lights were out in the house when I pulled into the garage. I didn’t need Jim’s smartass, and probably accurate, observations right now.
Michelle lifted her head as soon as I shut off the bike. Her fingers continued to trace patterns over my chest. Each swipe of her finger over a nipple brought me that much closer to shifting.
“What was in that little cup?” she asked with a slight lisp.
“Tequila.” Hopefully, she didn’t notice the growl vibrating the word.
“It didn’t taste good.”
Her roaming fingers left me, and she struggled to get off the bike. After the third time she brushed against me, I twisted and put my arms around her as I stood.
In less than a second, we were both standing next to the bike, facing each other. She blinked at me dazedly. The weak light from the porch painted her face in dusky shadows, making it easy to follow the movement of her tongue as she licked her soft, parted lips. I fisted my hands to keep them at my sides.
“What now?” I asked, softly.
“Show me.” As she spoke, she swayed a little and reached out to lay a hand on my arm. Her fingers immediately started roaming again. There was no reservation in her touch or her gaze.
“What exactly?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“You said you’re a werewolf. Show me what that means exactly.”
She wanted to see me? Our gazes held as I struggled with my desire to show her and my fear of her reaction. Would she run again? She certainly wouldn’t get very far in the state she was in.
Unable to resist, I reached up and gently touched her cheek. Smooth and soft. Warm and welcoming. That was who Michelle was meant to be. Home. But in order for that to be a reality, I needed to figure out her past and conquer her fear.
“If I show you, will you answer some questions for me?”
She nodded, a shy smile pulling at her lips. My palms grew sweaty.
“Turn around for a second.”
Watching the change would really freak her out, no matter how tipsy she was. Plus, I didn’t need her to see just how turned on I was when I stripped.
As she teetered in a slow circle, I used my speed to disrobe. Setting the neat pile of my folded clothes on the ground, I gave in to the urge to shift. The pain of the shift didn’t outweigh the relief of finally letting it go.
She was still pinwheeling her arms for balance when I settled on my paws and shook out my fur. Knowing she needed help to steady herself, I stepped closer. Her fingers brushed my coat. We both stilled. A shiver ran through me when she saw me and ran a hand along my spine.
The instant of my birth and the finale of my death would be nothing compared to the moment Michelle finally Claimed me. I ached for it.
“Hi, there,” she breathed.
Her hand drifted to my head and played with my ear. If this was the affection I would receive when in my fur, I was never going back to my skin again.
She idly looked around the garage. “Did you see where he went?”
She didn’t know it was me? I sighed.
Her gaze drifted to my neat pile of clothes, and she grinned. Her attempt to bend down and pick up my shirt almost landed her on her face. I moved quickly, using my side to keep her upright. Once she had the shirt in hand, she straightened and pressed the material to her face. A partial groan and growl escaped. She was doing it again. Scenting me. The woman was hell-bent on driving me crazy with mixed signals. Did she fear me or want to inhale me?
When her eyes didn’t open for a few seconds, I realized I was going to lose her to sleep and nudged her.
“Good boy,” she said, opening her eyes and patting my head again.
Heaving a sigh, I used my teeth to try to pluck the shirt from her hands.
“Bad,” she scolded, in a stern voice. Then, she tapped my nose in reprimand.
I snorted and slowly started the change back, giving up on the shirt. Hopefully, once she saw some skin, she’d understand who I was and maybe turn around. All the petting hadn’t helped calm me down.
As soon as my chest and shoulders were furless her eyes widened comically. “Oh!” she said, spinning on her heel, still clutching my shirt.
I pushed through the rest of the change and quickly pulled on my pants. The rasp of my zipper caused her to groan. I grinned as I scented her embarrassment. It was much better than fear.
“Is it too late to ask for another shot?” she whispered.
“Yep.” We were way past that.
She swayed on her feet, and I decided she’d had enough. Scooping her into my arms, I turned toward the house. She sighed and rested her head on my chest. I looked down at her peaceful expression. Her eyes had already drifted closed again.
“Now, you promised to answer a few questions,” I said softly.
Chapter 8
She nodded, burrowing in a little as she set her palm against my bare chest. For a second, I couldn’t remember what I’d wanted to ask her.
I swallowed hard and tried to focus.
“If you’re not worried about David, who are you worried about?”
When she didn’t answer, I lightly jostled her in my arms to wake her up again.
She smiled up at me.
“Can I sleep in your shirt tonight?”
The image of her in my shirt created a gnawing need in my gut. Yeah, she’d be sleeping in my shirt tonight, and if I were lucky, she’d be sleeping in my bed within a week. First, though, I needed her trust.
“Why did David keep you locked away?”
“Blake told him to. I really liked when you kissed my neck even though I tried not to.”
How was I supposed to think with comments like that? My gaze fell to her neck. Did she want me to kiss her again? I really wanted to. She sleepily smiled up at me, beckoning. So tempting. My fingers twitched with the need to follow the direction of my thoughts. But if I did, I wouldn’t find out about her past and tomorrow, we’d be right back to her smelling like fear.
“Who’s Blake?” I asked.
“I like you without a shirt. A lot.” Her fingers danced along my skin again, heating my blood. Then, suddenly, her expression changed from dreamy to concerned. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I have you, honey. Let’s get you ready for bed.”
She nodded, and l started toward the house. Inside was quiet. I had no doubt both Winifred and Jim were awake, though.
When I started up the stairs, Michelle looped her arms around my neck and pressed tightly against me. My thoughts returned to snuggling and kissing her neck. I was climbing a true stairway to heaven.
At her closed door, I hesitated. Not willing to let her go just yet, I shifted her weight to one arm and opened the door. The soft sounds of her brothers’ breathing came from the bedroom. I stepped inside and nudged the door almost shut behind me.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and her hold around my neck grew lax.
I wanted to kiss her.
“But I won’t,” I said softly.
She turned her head slightly and opened her eyes. When she saw me, she smiled. “So handsome.”
Her lids closed again, and I wondered how much she would remember tomorrow.
My resolve to leave her alone weakened. I lowered my head, watching for any sign of aversion. Her lashes remained on her cheek as I touched my nose to her temple. Inhaling, I trailed my way to her neck. Her scent soothed the need that had been growing since I first saw her, but created a new ache that demanded more.