Amber
I dream Iâm being chased by a wolf. A huge, silver-eyed beast who morphs into a giant, ripped man. Who then catches me, pins me under his muscled body, andâ¦
I wake up in the throes of orgasm.
Let the record reflect: Full moons makes werewolves get freaky. Or am I the one whoâs getting freaky?
The bathroom mirror reflects my flushed cheeks. Apparently I love freaky.
Sighing, I drag a brush through my hair. Multiple visions, a horrible night out and then I meet a werewolf. Just another week in the life of Crazy Amber.
After two hours of frantically wiping down every surface in my apartment, I feel a bit better. Maybe I can just keep on keeping on, act normal. Garrett told me not to tell anyone, so I may as well pretend nothing happened. Right?
I mean, theyâre three huge, scary guys who happen to turn into wolves. Big deal. I turn into a monster once a month, too, when Iâm on my period. Maybe I have more in common with Garrett than I thought.
Dressed for yoga, I grab my mat and head out the door, pausing to check if I packed my keys. My back and bottom tingle as if my body remembers Garrett pressing against me. He caught me when I almost fell, and walked me to my apartment, and taught me to a pick a lock. Keeping me safe. Taking care of me.
Do I pretend that never happened? What about the kiss and the spanking and his talented fingers between my legs?
I suck in a breath as my lady bits come to life with happy memories. Ducking my head to hide my blush, I practically run down the hall. No werewolves accost me on the way to my car. Iâm almost disappointed.
Maybe I am back to Normal Amberâs life. When I see Garrett, Iâll just be cool.
Settling into my car, Iâm about to back out of my spot when I see him. Massive shoulders stretching an army-green shirt, Garrett crosses his bulging arms over his chest. His head tilts to the side as he watches me.
I wave, ignoring the flip-flop of my heart. And then I hit the gasâonly to have the car lurch forward. I forgot to put it in reverse. The front wheels of my Volvo hit the concrete block and roll over it, crunching the front of my car into the wall.
A second later, metal screams as my door rips off its hinges.
âBaby, are you okay?â Garrett leans over me, unclicking my seatbelt and pulling me from the car before folding me in his arms.
âHey, neighbor.â My voice comes out shaky. So much for being cool.
âWhat the hell?â
âYou startled me. I, umââ Garrettâs scent surrounds me, and calm settles my jangled nerves. My hands are splayed on his hard-muscled chest.
âAmber?â
Focus! Amber the Lawyer is never at a loss for words. âAre you, um, growling?â
âMy wolf,â Garrett says through a clenched jaw. âHeâs worried about you.ââ
âOh. Hi, wolf.â I speak to Garrettâs belly button. His shirt has ridden up, showing muscles the size of cobblestones.
More rumbles as Garrett laughs. The pleasant sound relaxes me. Iâm standing in my hottie neighborâs arms, talking to his wolf. Nope, not crazy at all.
Garrett tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear, brushes a thumb over the hill of my cheek, leans in, and kisses me.
At the touch of his lips, little shocks of lightning flash through me. I sigh and press forward, ready to rub myself against him. My hand slips under his shirt, caressing the smooth, sculpted muscle. Garrett angles his head, grips the back of my neck, and deepens the kiss. His tongue in my mouth stirs up parts of me down below.
The kiss goes on and on and when we finally break away, I can barely breathe. He holds me close with his firm hand on my neck and rests his forehead against mine.
Iâm literally like the heroine of a Jane Austen romance, my chest heaving, about to swoon. âUm. Wow. Do all werewolves kiss like that?â I ask inanely. Really? Where is the sane Amber who always can verbally spar with the best of them in a courtroom?
Silver flashes through his eyes. âYou wonât be kissing any werewolves but me.â
âWell no, of course not. I didnât mean to kiss you, either. Youâre the one who keeps doing it. I keep letting you.â
âIâm glad youâre okay.â He releases the back of my neck, and I feel the loss. âI was worried there for a second.â
âI see that.â My door creaks as it hangs on one hinge. My front wheels are stuck between the concrete barrier and the wall. âWhat am I supposed to do now?â
âIâm surprised you donât have Triple A on speed dial, princess.â
âI do, actually. But how do I explain those?â I point the deep imprints in the metal Garrett put there with his bare hands.
âIâll take care of it. Most of my pack are mechanics. They can get this straight.â
âHow are we going to get it back over the concrete barrier?â
Garrettâs busy shooting off a text. By the time heâs done, two big guys burst from the stairwell door. Again, I automatically step back.
âYou remember Jared and Trey?â
âHi, Counselor.â Jared, the one with the shaved head and tattoo sleeves, nods.
The heavily pierced one actually grins at me before he points to my car. âThis the problem?â
âYep.â Garrett pockets his cell phone. âTankâs coming with a tow truck. But I donât want to leave it until then.â
The two punks walk to either side of my car.
âHowâs the weather?â Full Metal Face, also known as Trey, asks.
Garrett stands at the rear, sweeping a glance around the parking lot. âOld lady, three oâclock.â
The three of them lean against my car, looking casual as a woman crosses the parking lot, gets in her car, and drives off.
âAll clear,â Garrett murmurs.
The men all bend over and get a grip on my car before lifting it as if weighs nothing. My jaw drops. Let the record reflect: Werewolves have superhuman strength. They carry it back into place, and set it gently down.
âThanks, guys.â Garrett nods, and the two punks wink at me and disappear before I find my voice.
âI guess that works.â
âTank will be here to tow it in a bit.â
âThank you,â I say.
âYouâre welcome, princess.â
So much for a normal Saturday. âI guess Iâm going to miss yoga.â
âI can help you with that.â
âHow? You going to teach me to hotwire a car?â
A grin, shake of his head. âIâll do you one better.â He strides around a corner. The roar of motorcycle pipes herald his return.
âOh no.â I shake my head as he glides up on a huge black Harley. âNo way Iâm getting on that thing.â
âCome on, Counselor.â He tosses me a helmet. âLive a little.â
~.~
Let the record reflect: When riding a motorcycle, you should bring a change of panties. Because they are basically vibrators. Really big vibrators.
I hold tight to Garrett, pressing into his back as the wind whips my hair below the helmet.
âHey!â I shout as we motor away from downtown. âMy yoga studio is in Armory Park!â
âChange of plans, princess,â he tosses back, and pulls in at a little Mexican taco stand on the west side of the now dry Santa Cruz riverbed. âIâll take you to brunch.â
Iâd protest, but Iâm not sorry. I wouldâve been late for yoga, anyway, and even though I know itâs a bad idea, I crave more time with my overbearing neighbor. Even if it is on a death machine. Which feels amazing between my thighs.
Garrett orders ten carne asada tacos, pays, and hands me the paper sack with our food. âLetâs go.â
âWhere are we going?â
âFor a picnic.â He starts the motorcycle and takes the turn for A Mountain, leaning into a curve. The A is for the giant letter painted thereâfor University of Arizonaâand I lean with him, trying to ignore the fact that Iâm plastered against the hottest guy Iâve ever met. Itâs almost like I never had the morning orgasm at all.
We head up A Mountain, the statuesque saguaro cacti standing sentinel as we zoom past. The sun is high, but the air rushes past me, making the temperature perfect.
By the time Garrett pulls onto an overlook, Iâm actually having fun. The view of the city and natural landscape beyond is incredible. Wrens chirp from their nests in the giant cacti. This is what itâs like to be Garrett. Free.
The familiar knot of anxiety I always wear is gone, as if Iâve taken on his ease and strength. His overwhelming belief that the city belongs to him, and thereâs nothing he canât handle. I know Iâm projecting, yet my gut tells me Iâm right. What I feel is true. Garrett owns his life, downtown, this mountain.
But thatâs stupid. He may be a werewolf, but it doesnât make him invulnerable. âShouldnât you be wearing a helmet?â I ask as I pull mine off.
âWorried about me, princess?â
âNo,â I mutter. âA wreck probably wouldnât make a dent in your hard head.â
He just grins. âHow did you like the ride?â
âIt was nice.â I flush.
âGlad I could pop your cherry. Your bike cherry.â
I narrow my eyes and try not to think about what it wouldâve been like if heâd been the guy whoâd popped my actual cherry. So much better than Tommy Jackson.
He just laughs. âCome on, princess.â He leads me to a picnic table. Here. Dig in.â He opens the container of tacos.
âNice of you to ask me what I wanted,â I mutter. âI could be on a diet. Or vegetarian.â
He freezes, looking horrified. âAre you vegetarian?â
âNo.â My stomach growls.
âThank the fates.â He picks up a taco and devours it in one bite.
Iâm suddenly worried there wonât be enough for both of us. âBut I am watching my weight.â
He scoffs. âWhy?â
âSame reason I go to yoga every week. Itâs what normal people do, you know, to keep in shape.â
âI like your shape.â His blue eyes sweep down from my face to my breasts and linger there. My nipples peak at the attention. âTell you what, you eatââ he plunks a taco in front of me. âAnd Iâll watch your weight.â
âWhat?â
âI will watch it very, very closely.â He ducks his head beneath the table to ogle my lower half.
I snap my knees shut, but a slow throb starts between my legs. I imagine him under the table, prying my knees apart. Putting those sensual lips of his against my core. âIâm sure you will.â Damn my voice for sounding breathy and excited. âPass.â I bite into the taco and moan. It is so good.
The manâwerewolfâacross the table looks like he wants to take a bite out of me.
Jesus, do werewolves bite? Why havenât I asked yet?
I nod to his fingers, the blue ink rendering of the moon in its various phases. âFor someone who has a big secret, donât you think that tattoo is a little telling?â
He gives me a lopsided grin, one side of his mouth pulling up. âMost humans arenât like you, Amber.â
It may not have been a compliment, but the way he looks at me makes my insides warm. âS-so, how does it work? Do you bite people to turn them during the full moon?â
Garrett gives a short bark of laughter. âWeâre not fucking leeches.â
I stare blankly.
âVampires.â
My stomach knots. There are vampires, too? Eeesh.
âNo, youâre either born a shifter or youâre not. You canât be turned. In fact, there are pathetically few of us left. Breeding with humans has caused our species to dwindle.â
I suddenly long to know everything about themâmeet the whole gang and understand what makes them tick. It hits me hard, like this is some knowledge Iâve been missing my whole life, that I should have known.
âI have a question for you, Counselor.â Garrett has polished off six street tacos. âHow do you drive if you get visions all the time?â
âI can suppress them. I donât usually get them unless Iâm around big crowds of people. Or when I get touched.â
He bares his teeth, like he canât stand the idea of anyone touching me. âHow are you not a recluse, then?â
âI kind of am. I donât go out a lot, except to work and yoga. Foxfire is my only close friend.â My life sounds pathetic. Normal Amber is pretty lame.
âWhy did you choose to become a lawyer?â
I square my shoulders. âWhy? Because I couldâve been a fortune-teller instead?â
He laughs. âNo, baby. Somehow, I canât see you doing that. Iâm just wondering what makes a hot, talented woman like you go into such a rigid occupation.â
He means Iâm too uptight. I touch my tangled waves, wanting the security of my usual French twist. âI work with kids in the system, getting them out of bad situations.â
âIsnât that pro bono stuff?â
âAlmost,â I admit. âIâm lucky I got scholarships for law school, otherwise I couldnât afford my student loans and rent.â
âI didnât know you were such a humanitarian type.â
âYep. Foxfire calls me a bleeding heart liberal. But I want to give back, and if I can help these kids navigate the system, save them from what Iââ I stop short. I didnât mean to tell him about that.
âSave themâ¦â Garrett prompts when I donât go on. âWhat were you going to say?â
I set down the rest of my second street taco. Should I tell him? âI was in the system.â I swallow a lump in my throat. âFoster care, from the time I was six.â
His fingers wrap into fists, jaw sets tight. He looks one part sick, one part furious. âAre you fucking kidding me?â
âEasy, Hulk.â
He exhales a measured breath and stands up.
I watch him walk around the table and plunk down on the concrete bench beside me, straddling it.
He reaches for me, using one giant paw to swivel my knees in his direction, turning me in my seat. Leaving his hand on my knee, he cups my nape with the other. His brow knits with concern. âYou okay?â His voice is gruff, like heâs going to go back in time and kick the ass of anyone who hurt me in my past.
âYeah.â I let out a shaky breath. I canât believe I told him. It violates my number one rule for keeping Crazy Amber under wraps. It took Foxfire years of prying to get it out of me. âFoster care saved me, but it wasnât easy. I tried my best to act normal, but I kept getting sent back because they thought I was crazy. You know, because of theâ¦â
âThe visions?â
âYeah. My last set of foster parents thought I had a drug problem.â I shake my head. âThey spent years trying to medicate me.â
âDid it help?â
âNo. It made me feel worse. But they meant well. And my life in foster care was so much better than the alternative.â
âSo, now you work with kids, making sure they get the life they deserve.â His eyes are the deepest blue, filled with understanding. I donât want to accept it, but it feels so damn good.
âYes.â Iâm grateful he changed the subject back to work. Work is safe. I launch into a long explanation of my state job as childâs attorney, representing kids in the foster system.
âSounds intense,â he says. âIt also sounds like youâre really making a difference. Not bad for a slimy lawyer.â He tries for light, but his eyes still hold a world of grief on my behalf.
I roll my eyes and give his sturdy chest a light shove.
He catches my wrists and pins them together with a large hand. âNone of that, bad girl.â
Oh, lordy. The memory of my spanking last night comes rushing back. As if it hadnât been at the forefront of my mind all day.
âNo disrespect.â His voice drops an octave. âOr Iâll have to punish you again.â
My pussy clenches, but I ignore the way the threat lights me up.
He drops his gaze to my pebbled nipples showing through my tight yoga tank, ratting me out.
My face heats. âY-youâre the bad one. Not me.â I yank the container of tacos closer. âThere are two left, Arenât you going to eat them?â Itâs a lame attempt at distraction, but he allows it.
âSo, if you were having lunch with a business owner who wants to give back to the community, what would you say foster kids need most?â
I straighten. âDoes this business owner happen to own property all over Tucson? Including Club Eclipse?â
He grins. âMaybe.â
âBelieve it or not, Iâd love to have access to the club one night.â
He quirks a sexy brow. âReally?â
âReally. One of the social workers for the foster kids is looking for a place to host a âFamiliesâ Night Outâ with kids and their foster parents. Itâd be so cool to take them to Eclipse. Let them have a dance party.â
âI donât serve alcohol to anyone under twenty one,â he deadpans.
âOf course not,â I swat his hand. In a blur of movement, he catches it. My lips part as his mouth closes over my fingers, sucking them. The slow roll of his tongue has me blushing. Once more I imagine that tongue working between my legs. Not that Iâve ever wanted that before. Hell, Iâd always thought it was kind of disgusting. You know, unsanitary. But the velvet wet heat of Garrettâs mouth has me dying for it.
I sag in my seat when he lets me go.
Swallowing hard, I continue. âI-itâd be a dry event. Just sodas and music. Maybe a light show. The kids will think itâs so cool. Itâll be good neutral territory for them to bond with their new families.â
âAll right,â he says slowly. âIâll see what I can do.â
âWould your roommates volunteer to help?â
âJared and Trey?â His eyebrows pop up. âTheyâll do whatever I tell them to do.â
âYou said it yourself: theyâre Boy Scouts. Theyâd be great role models. As long as they tell the kids not to drink or smoke, and to stay in school.â
âMy buddy Tank owns a motorcycle shop. He has a handful of high school kids who hang out on the regular to learn from him. Iâve always thought it could be a formal program. You knowâvocational training or something.â
My heart squeezes to hear that Garrettâthe giant werewolf Iâd so misjudgedâthinks about helping local teens. âThatâs an incredible idea. Would you want to be a part of it?â
He shrugs. âYeah.â
I picture him mentoring young would-be thugs and giving them a sense of purpose and confidence. âI bet youâll make a great dad,â I blurt. My eyes widen when I realize I just brought up having kids on our first date. I donât even know what made me say it. Yes, I do. My overactive ovaries, which are still dropping eggs every two minutes in hopes theyâll get lucky with him. âI meanââ
âYeah, Iâll teach them to pick locks and ride motorcycles. Isnât that what every woman looks for in the father of her pup?â Thereâs a challenge in his voice, and a flush of shame runs through me for being so judgmental of him.
âIâm sorry I acted like a snooty bitch when we met. I was just nervous about my safety and Iââ
He cuts me off with a kiss, stamping his lips over mine with an unspoken demand.
I yield, opening for his tongue, trying to ignore the way the Earth tilts on its axis and dumps me on my butt. Somehow, I know my hair is never going to fit back into the uptight twist I used to wear.
âOh, Amber,â Garrett breaks the kiss. âIf you had any idea all the terrible things I want to do to you, youâd know you were right to be nervous.â
My breasts ache now, nipples stinging and chafing against the fabric of my yoga top. I want his mouth on them. I want to know all the terrible things. Heâs already spanked me. What else is the kinky werewolf into? Bondage? Humiliation? I never considered anything but plain old missionary sex to be in my future, but itâs like a door has slid open, showing me a whole new, beautiful world.
I grope for something to say, something safe and neutral. âWhat about you?â I bump his foot with mine. âHow did you get into real estate?â
âI moved to Tucson when I was eighteen. My dad gave me a startup loan, and I bought a small commercial property and rented it out. Did all the repairs and fixup myself. Then I got lucky. Downtown revitalization took off, and the value of the property shot through the roof. I borrowed against equity to pay my dad back and open Eclipse. My dad was disappointed to say the least.â
âThat you opened a nightclub?â
âYeah. He says Iâll always be a punk.â
A rush of anger runs through me on Garrettâs behalf. I may have jumped to the same conclusion when I met Garrett, but Iâve since seen heâs more than a motorcycle-driving hoodlum. And even with a startup loan from his father, any guy who could grow his real estate empire from one commercial building to a multi-million dollar empire has some business skills and savvy.
Garrettâs smile doesnât reach his eyes. âGuess heâs right.â
Hearing about his fatherâs condemnation suddenly gives me some insight into why Garrett hasnât grown up. With a father like that, youâd either want to prove him wrong or prove him right. Looks like Garrett chose proving him right. Yes, heâs a little old to be rebelling, but if he grew up with an overbearing, judgmental asshole for a parent, I can see how that might stick with him.
âSo, whatâs the average day look like for you?â
âDrink beer. Harass my hot neighbor.â He keeps playing the thug role.
I yank the container of tacos away just as he reaches for one. He arches a stern brow. I stifle a grin and shove them back, eyeing his enormous pecs.
He catches me looking and smirks. âLike what you see, angel?â
I shrug like his nearness has no effect on me. âYou work out for those?â
âNaw. This is all genetics, baby.â He flexes, showing off his giant biceps. I wonder how many girls at Eclipse throw themselves at his feet every night. The thought makes me want to strangle all of them.
âRun the club? Manage your properties?â I continue pressing.
âNope, I have pack members and employees to do that, now. I manage them.â
Pack members. He has a pack of shifters. I donât know why, but I love that idea. The men who seemed so intimidating and rough in the elevator that first day, the tough bouncers at the club, theyâre not motorcycle club members. Or maybe they are, but theyâre also pack members. Wolf pack members.
I suddenly wonder if every motorcycle club is actually made up of werewolves. Iâm too embarrassed of my ignorance to ask.
I wonder if they dress like punks on purpose. To warn humans off or something. Not that Iâm complaining, today. His massive body is drool worthy in his signature ripped jeans and faded T-shirt that reads Dark Side of the Moon.
Moon. Heh. I wonder how much moon paraphernalia he collects.
âEat your taco, Counselor.â Garrett has polished off the remaining two and points at my second, half-eaten one.
âIâm full.â
âThen come with me.â He tugs me up, his huge hand swallowing mine. Strong fingers, powerful enough to crush metal, but so gentle with me.
He leads me up the mountain, away from the motorcycle. Weâre off the beaten path, and when it proves too tricky for my tennis shoes, he lifts and carries me easily over the rocky terrain, to the very top of A Mountain then sets me down on a small boulder. The view is even more spectacular.
âIs this what you wanted to show me?â I ask.
âI just wanted to change things up.â He fingers a lock of my hair. âWhat you told me on the picnic tableâabout being in foster careâdo you tell many people that?â
I swallow. âNo.â
âAre you close with your foster parents?â
âThe last ones? The ones who tried to medicate me? Not really. I think I went to law school just to prove I didnât need their help or anyone elseâs.â
âDo you have any close friends? Anyone who knows youâre psychic?â
âJust Foxfire. At least, sheâs the only one who believes me when I tell her what Iâve seen.â
âAnyone else?â
I shake my head. My chest hurts a little. âWhy are you asking me these questions?â
âNow I know why youâre wound so tight, baby. Your gift makes you isolate from others. You have no one to watch your back.â
âItâs not a gift.â My throat clogs.
âAnd you donât have anyone to share your secret with. No family. No pack,â he murmurs as if talking to himself.
The pain under my breastbone expands until I blink back tears.
He catches my expression. âFuck. I didnât mean to upset you.â He pulls me to stand and wraps me in his arms.
I resist, hating weakness.
He ignores my attempts to push him away, his strength making me seem like a toddler. âI just want to know what makes you tick. I donât want to hurt you, Amber.â
âYou canât hurt me,â I declare, but itâs an old assertion. The cousin to I donât need anyone, and I know itâs not true. I give up resistance and sag against him, resting my cheek on his massive chest. I wipe my eyes.
âI wonât let anyone hurt you again.â
I want to call bullshit on that. But I like the way it sounds. And I like the way it feels to lean into his warm strength and soak it up.
Iâve never opened up to anyone the way I did to Garrett. Iâm not even sure how he got me to. But I trust him. More than Iâve ever trusted anyone in my life. âWell.â My voice sounds shaky. âI guess we both know each otherâs secrets now.â
âYep.â He sets his chin on the top of my head. We fit perfectly. âYour secretâs safe with me, princess.â
For a moment, we stay like that, molded together, looking down on Tucson. Garrett inhales through his nose, and his hands tighten on me. One wanders down to my ass, squeezing my buns through my skin-tight yoga pants.
âYou had to be wearing these.â Both hands grip my ass now, squeezing and releasing, circling and caressing. I remember the way he stroked my ass after he lit it on fire last night, and a dark hunger burns in my lower belly.
He lifts me to straddle his waist. His mouth falls on my shoulder, half bite, half kiss. He lifts and lowers my ass, rubbing my core over the massive bulge of his cock. âI can feel your hot little pussy, baby. Are you even wearing panties?â
âNo,â I manage to say through panting breaths. Iâve never wanted a man so badly in my life. Iâve never surrendered like thisâjust let a guy lead and do whatever he wants.
A rumble sounds in Garrettâs chest.
I draw back and see his eyes are silver. âYour wolf is showing,â I murmur.
âFuck.â He drops me to the ground and stares at me, fingers balling into fists at his sides.
âWhatâs wrong? You okay?â
He doesnât answer. A muscle in his jaw jumps. He mutters a curse and pulls off his shirt.
Dayum. His armsâthe muscles are almost as big as my head. The sight of his eight pack makes me want to howl at the moon. He has a wolf paw tattoo on his shoulder.
âWhat are you doing?â I cross my arms in front of me to hide my tight nipples. His fingers go to his belt next. I throw out my hand. âHold up, big guy. What are you doing?â Does he think weâre having sex, right here, right now?
âI need to shift.â
âHere? Now?â I glance around. âGarrett, no.â The sound of a car below reaches us. âItâs broad daylight, and anyone could come up.â
He steps close, his scent washing over me. âI canât help it. You bring the change on. If I donât let the wolf out, Iâm going to put you on your hands and knees andââhe cuts himself off with a dog-like a shake of his headââdo those terrible things.â
Pleaseâdo them.
His skin ripples in terrifying motion.
âNo.â I put my palms on his chest, as if I can stop the wolf from coming out. âStop, please.â I know what itâs like to be a kid, and to see things Iâm not supposed to see. âDonât do this. Not like this.â
âCanât stop.â His voice comes out choked. Heâs going to shift in front of me, right now.
âStay with me, Garrett,â I do the only thing I can think of. Surging up to tiptoe, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
Heat blasts through me as soon as our lips touch. He lifts me, fists a hand in my hair, and tugs my head back. The swell of his hardened cock presses against my belly. The kiss ignites my body, sensation blasting through me. Everything in me comes alive.
âThe things I want to do to you.â The raw hunger in his expression is unnerving.
âYou can,â I promise, and I mean it. I want it. âJust not here. Take me home. You donât have to shift.â I donât know if itâs my intuition or fear speaking, but thereâs an urgency to keeping him sane, preventing whatever heâs wrestling with from happening.
He licks up my throat, my head still immobilized in his iron grasp. His lips drag across my jaw; he nips my mouth. My body responds, hips pushing up against him, the heat of my core seeking something to grind on.
He bites my shoulder so hard, I cry out in pain. It seems to jerk him out of his lust-filled stupor, and he releases me, jumping back as if Iâd burned him.
âFuck, Amber.â His eyes are still silver. He drags a hand through his blond hair, breathing hard. âFuck. Did I hurt you? Fuck!â
âNo. No, you didnât.â Itâs a partial truth. I lean forward, missing him already. My hands want to stay molded to that incredible chest. âItâs okayââ I reach for him. I know what itâs like to feel out of control.
âNo.â Fury mars his handsome face. âIt canât happen again. This was a bad idea.â Heâs breathing heavily. âI need to stay away.â
âGarrettââ
âI canât be near you.â He passes a hand over his face. His shoulders hunch. A large pop sounds. âToo close to a full moon. Iâve got to go.â He whirls, striding down the other side of the mountain. Away from the road. Away from me.
âWait!â Is he just going to leave me here? I canât drive a freakinâ motorcycle. I scramble after him. âWhat happens during the full moon?â
His growl echoes off the boulders as he disappears, stopping me in my tracks. âI go hunting.â
~.~
Let the record reflect: The werewolf abandoned his date on A Mountain.
âThanks for picking me up,â I tell Foxfire as she pulls away from the overlook. The site of a date gone awry. Iâd waited a full hour for Garrett to return before accepting Iâd have to find my own ride back.
âNo problem. Least I could do, after making a fool of myself last night.â She looks a bit wan but steadier than I feel. âTell me again what happened. You went on a date and, in the middle of it, he up and left?â
âHeâsâ¦strange.â Understatement of the year. And hot. And probably a millionaire. And a werewolf.
And a goddamn asshole.
âWait,â Foxfire says. âIâm putting together the pieces. Is this your neighbor?â
âYeah.â
âAnd he was there last night, right?â
âHe owns Club Eclipse. And, after I got home, we had a little talk.â And a little spanking, followed by a not-so-little orgasm. And hot dreams all night long.
I press my hands to my cheeks to hide my blush.
âHe kinda knocked on my door. I got scared and went out the fire escape. I nearly fell, and he caught me. Brought me to his apartment and told meââ I break off.
âTo never set foot in his club again,â Foxfire fills in my awkward pause. âBecause of me.â
âNo, itâs fine. I think heâd let us back in.â He told me we could use the club for the foster fun night. I hope he meant it. âThis morning, he helped me with my car, but thenâ¦â
âHe took you for a ride on his motorcycle and stranded you in the middle of nowhere.â
âYes,â I rub my head. My temples throb like another vision is due. Wonderful.
âThis guy sounds like bad news. Youâre usually not the reckless one.â
âI know.â What was I thinking? âWe have this connection.â
âWhat could you possibly have in common with this guy? Heâs in a motorcycle gang. You spend nights working or organizing your pens and ironing your underwear.â
âGee thanks. Why donât you just call me boring?â
âYou know what I mean, Amber. I love you to bits, but youâre a control freak. That guy is chaos.â
âYou donât get it. I felt like I could open up to him. I told him about the visions.â
âReally?â Foxfireâs eyebrows arch so high they almost disappear under her bangs.
âYeah. Heâs the first person Iâve told in years, other than you.â Foxfireâs grandmother was a medicine woman, so she grew up hearing about the spiritual side of things. Itâs one of the reason weâre so close.
âI canât believe you confided in that jerkoff. He seems likes the big Neanderthal type.â
âHe is, but heâs more than that. I had an episode in front of him, and he took care of me.â
âWhen you told him about the visions, how did he react?â
My head swims at the word vision and I put a hand on the dash to steady myself. âHe believed me.â
âWhatâd you see?â Foxfire asks.
âA wolf.â Something flashes in the desert as I stare out the window. A coyote or some other wild animal? Garrett is out there, running in his other form. For a moment, I taste the hot, dry air, powering past cacti as I run on all fours. Iâm a predator, powerful, unafraid. The moon hovers just under the horizon, unseen, but my skin tingles as it calls to me, telling me to shiftâ¦
âDid you just say werewolf?â Foxfireâs gasp brings me back into the car.
âNo,â I shake my head, dazed. Did I just have a vision? âUm, whatâd I just say?â
âYou said Garrett is a werewolf. At least I think thatâs what you said. You were kinda out of it.â
Damn. âUhâ¦thatâs the name of his motorcycle club, I think. The Werewolves. They have a wolf theme. Club Eclipse. Moon tattoos. Itâs a thing.â Please, please, believe me.
âOkay, whatever.â
I stay quiet, just focusing on breathing. Amber weaves into traffic as the desert slowly makes way for urban sprawl. I close my eyes, fighting dizziness.
âDoes your head hurt?â Tess asks.
âA little.â
âYou look a little sick, otherwise Iâd take you apartment hunting, right now.â
I slide down in my seat. Do I want to leave my apartment? Not have Garrett as a neighbor? No. He fucked up today, but so did I. Was there ever more proof Iâm a freak?
âI donât like this, Amber.â Foxfireâs frown creates furrows alongside her mouth. âGarrett sounds like bad news.â
âItâs okay,â I tell her. âI think heâll stay away from me now on.â I ignore the pang in my heart. I barely know the guy. I shouldnât care if I never see him again.
âJust take me home.â My voice breaks on the word. I canât lie to myself. Years of foster care, and Iâve never had a safe place to call home. A place I can be myself, a family who accepts me for what I am.
Thatâs why spending time with Garrett was so special. For a few short hours, I felt like I belonged.
Comments(0)
Join the discussion — sign in to leave a comment
Sign In to CommentNo comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!