14: Species: Unknown

Quincy St. Martin

Werewolves generally have variant earthy smells of the forest. Living among them all my life makes me familiar with their scent.

I can spot even the faintest of their scents anywhere. Even Nana had her own unique scent of the wild. The beautiful stranger whose hands are currently gripping my hips and whose lips and nose are firmly buried in my neck has a different kind of scent.

It’s definitely wild, and it’s something I’m not familiar with, mixed with the smell of an expensive cologne. He smells rich and oh, so very good.

Like catnip to cats, crack cocaine to an addict, I can’t resist burying my face into his soft silky golden hair, taking a long deep drag of his addictive scent into my starved, deprived lungs. The feel of his lips on my neck is sending bursts of electrical current to every cell and nerve ending in my body.

I place my hands on his broad solid shoulders and succumb to the urge to plaster the front of my body to his until no part of our bodies isn’t touching and pressed together.

My whole body tingles from the contact, and a deep rumbling animalistic sound comes out from deep within him. It is such a delicious sexy sound, but it is not a sound any normal human would have made. The sound brings me out of the trance and cloudy haze of pleasure.

Whoa. What am I doing? I’m in a secluded area near the woods with a stranger. More importantly, we’re all alone, and we’re clawing at each other like wild animals.

This stranger isn’t human, and I don’t even know what he is.

I place my hands flat on his solid hard chest and push him back. “Whoa! Hey!”

I hear him growl in protest. Growl! Oh, my God. What is he? I push him harder, and he opens his mouth to clamp into the curve of my neck in warning.

The message is clear. He’ll let me go when he is good and ready.

His sharp, powerful canines are pressing on my skin. It doesn’t hurt, but there’s a promise of pain if I continue to try to get away. This is such a show of ownership. A primal act of claiming and so very possessive…in the world that is not human. This is not good.

The worst part? My body is loving it. A shock of electricity passes from his mouth on my skin to zap down straight to my core, and I shudder and moan in pure ecstasy.

I can feel the connection seep right through my skin into my bloodstream. Never have I experienced such pleasure. My body is such a traitor.

After a while, he removes his jaw from my neck, but his warm silky tongue leaves my bruised skin. Tasting. Soothing. Almost as if apologizing for his earlier action. It’s also as if he can’t get enough of the taste of my skin. I have to fight the urge to moan aloud. Darn it, my traitorous body!

After a while, he drops a featherlight kiss on the spot and pulls back to look at me.

My legs must still be weak, because I almost fall on my butt as soon as he lets me go. He grabs my hips to steady me in an instant.

His closeness is affecting my ability to think.

I gulp audibly and drag in a shaky breath, trying to clear my foggy brain and calm my thundering heartbeat.

It doesn’t help that this gorgeous stranger is staring down at me with a speculative look in his eyes as if I am the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

I clear my throat and say, “Listen here, buddy!”

My voice sounds shaky, so I put my hands on my hips to show that I’m in control. I’ve got a feeling that we have to set some ground rules here. One of his perfect eyebrows lifts up in surprise.

“Buddy?” His mouth slowly curls up into an amused smile as he takes in my fighting stance.

“Listen here, buddy!” I try again with a firmer voice, ignoring his remark.

Sure, he’s gorgeous and can make me lose my mind with a single touch, but I’m going to show him that I’m not one of the many admirers who falls so easily at his feet.

“Don’t you dare put your hands on me without my consent again.”

His smile turns wicked, and his eyes light up with mischief. He places both hands on the wire fence behind me, caging me in.

“Just my hands then? So this is okay?” His voice is pure velvet. He leans down to place his lips just under my ear.

Then he drags it along my jawline, raining tiny kisses that set butterflies to flutter in my stomach and delicious chills to run up and down my back. When his lips touch the spot where he bit me, I let out a small whimper. Tingles and explosions of heat break out through my whole body.

Oh, God. Yes. “No.” I pull back. It takes everything in me. My whole body is protesting. “That is not okay.”

His green eyes glaze with fierce hunger before he blinks and looks away, directing his gaze somewhere above my head. When he glances at me again, his expression looks so innocent and guileless that I almost believe that I imagined it for a second.

“Why not? We both know you like it. I know I like it.”

I’m speechless for a second before I sputter, “It’s not about liking it!”

“So you’re not denying that you like it,” he says, smiling wickedly.

“I’m not saying shit.” My swear jar is prospering.

“That’s because you like me touching you ~and~ kissing you.”

What? Who is this guy? More importantly, I can’t believe I’m arguing about whether or not I like touches and kisses with a total stranger. Species: unknown.

I had better get away from him.

I put my hands on his broad chest, meaning to push him back so that I can walk away. Oh wow, those pecs feel solid under my palms, and he’s not moving an inch.

“Oh, so it’s not okay for me to put my hands on you, but it’s okay for you to put your hands all over me?” His wicked smile grows even bigger. His eyes sparkle with mischief.

The Devil. Ughh!!! I could smack him over the head then kiss those sexy lips to death! Those lips are very sexy, though. Apparently, they know how to do things…

“You’re staring at my lips,” he whispers. His voice sounds husky and heavy with want but amused at the same time.

“I am ~so~ not,” I tell him.

“You still are.” His lips are moving closer. “You can kiss me. I don’t mind.”

Our lips are just inches away from each other. My lips tingle just from the feel of his warm breath on me, and he smells so good.

Yes, just one taste. Would it be so bad to have just one taste? ~He said he doesn’t mind,~ says one part of my brain. Another sane part is warning me, ~Quincy, do not kiss the sexy stranger. The gorgeous golden god of the unknown species. He’s dangerous and he’s not a human.~

The sound of a door opening and some people talking close by jerks me back to reality.

I give his muscled chest a push, and he staggers back, his eyes glazed with passion.

Then I think I see a look of disappointment on his handsome face.

In an instant, he lifts his heavy eyelids back to gaze into my eyes, and those looks are gone, replaced with that arrogant, amused expression again.

I probably just imagined the disappointment.

I look behind him, where three older men are walking out of the building, talking to each other. They’re probably the teaching staff. They seem to be engrossed in their discussion. They don’t even spare us a glance.

The golden god in front of me follows my gaze to look behind him, and I take that moment to slip out and walk away.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” I answer as I make a dash toward the student square, where I see many students milling about in the distance.

“Why?” he asks, looking genuinely puzzled as if the thought that anybody is trying to get away from him is a foreign concept.

It’s probably never happened to him before. I can see every day how people, especially women, flock to him. They all try to get close to him, so willing to make a fool out of themselves just to get him to notice them.

“So…no kiss then?” he dares ask.

“You’re a stranger. I don’t know you! I don’t go around making out with strangers,” I exclaim.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So, are you saying that if we’re not strangers anymore, it’s okay for us to make out?”

Ughh!!!! I hasten my steps.

“My name is Caspian,” he says.

“Well, good for you,” I reply, walking even faster. I’m almost running now. I already know his name.

“Wait!” He grips the end of my shirt, forcing me to slow down. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name? You know how it works, right? For us not to be strangers anymore? I tell you my name, and you tell me yours. I show you mine, and you show me yours.”

“I’m not going to tell you my name, and I’m not going to show you anything that’s mine.”

“Well, that’s too bad, princess,” he says. “I want to see everything that’s yours, and it’s hard to get to know each other if you won’t tell me your name. It’s going to take a while for us to start making out, huh?”

What the hell? I stop in my tracks and turn to look at him. He has that annoying smile that says he knows something that I don’t.

So very annoying.