I was the epitome of those things wrapped into one.
9
I was almost to my apartment door when a rich, unfamiliar voice reverberated along the folds in my mind. I stopped in my tracks and glanced around.
Nobody else was in the hallway.
The voice brushed along my brain again like a soft, steamy caress. It was less concrete—more like it was being manifested from inside my brain, rather than outside. It didn’t sound like my brother or my father’s voice at all. Thank goodness, because what it had just said to me was filthy as hell.
It came again, whispering along my senses, and I finally recognized the timbre. The voice in my head was Colin Rourke, my potential new client. I listened for a moment and then blushed like a madwoman.
What’s going on? This has to be a trick.
Rourke’s throaty voice washed over me again and tingles erupted on the pads of my fingers all the way to my toes, hitting all the important parts along the way. I couldn’t help shivering.
Um … chocolate syrup goes where?
Sex and food. It was too much. I shook my head, trying to knock it out of my brain. Marcy had to be playing a joke on me, getting me back for making her worry. It was the only real explanation. What else could it be? What a minx. I glanced down the hallway again just to make sure she wasn’t giggling behind someone’s door.
The voice continued without pause. Graphically.
No, no, caramel can’t go there. It’s too sticky for that.
Before I could do anything to stop myself, my ni**les budded to hard peaks under my shirt. I was totally and completely turned on. Damn you traitorous body parts. No guy’s voice should be in my brain without my permission, but it didn’t stop me from imagining what he smelled like. Rich pine boughs or salty ocean was my best guess, possibly with a hint of fresh rain. Yum.
A rush of wetness hit my panties.
Jesus Christ!
This was too much. The joke had gone too far. Marcy, if you’re in my head, get the hell out! It’s not funny. I’m going to practical joke you to death. Do you hear me? To death!
I had to be temporarily out of my mind to get that turned on by an imaginary voice. I straightened and walked briskly to my door, keys out at the ready. I didn’t even know what the guy looked like, hot voice or not; this was not an appropriate reaction. It was wrong on so many levels. Marcy’s scrawny ass was mine.
I stopped in front of my door and a low growl escaped my diaphragm with no provoking on my part.
Did I just growl?
I growled again.
Suddenly it all made sense.
Marcy hadn’t been messing with me.
Why would you possibly do something like that? I asked my wolf, even though I already knew the answer. This was payback for winning my Dominion.
She snapped her teeth at me.
If you start playing games with me, how in the hell am I supposed to trust you? Last time I checked, we were in this together. We share the same mind and body, for better or worse. If I’m horny and unsatisfied—you’re horny and unsatisfied. Got it? I grumbled. We have to get this we’re-playing-on-the-same-team thing figured out. If not, it’s going to tear us apart. And guess what? I’m holding you completely responsible if we can’t. Hear that? Your. Fault.
She huffed at me like I was an idiot. Then fed me an image of her lying on her back wiggling around like she was trying to scratch an itch. She got up, paced a few times in a circle before lying down with her head on her paws.
Then she closed her eyes and shut me out.
Just like that.
Very mature, I told her.
No response.
I shook my head and unlocked my apartment door. I pushed it open and inhaled an unfamiliar scent.
Werewolf.
Then he was on me.
He lunged at me from my left side, where he’d been hidden by the shadow of the door, plowing into me with the force of a battering ram, slamming my door shut in the process. My upper body jerked backward and we both crashed to the floor. We skidded, me on the bottom with a two-hundred-pound werewolf anchored to my chest.
Unimpeded by a single lick of furniture, we crashed into the opposite wall, blowing out the bottom Sheetrock. I was pinned. He was in his full animal form, and it was all I could do to keep his snapping jaws from my face. My hands clung to the fur around his neck and I held on for dear life as we rolled back and forth across the floor.
“Get off me,” I gasped as we took another turn. My wolf’s ears were pinned back, a fierce snarl reverberating through my psyche, adrenaline and strength pounding through me. The same psyche she’d just been messing with a few seconds ago.
The werewolf’s foul, mangy breath wafted over me, his eyes radiating a fierce, pulsating yellow.
I absorbed everything she sent me as quickly as I could. Without it, I’d already be dead. The constant infusion of power gave me a small edge. My arms hardened, growing stronger by the second. I managed to wrench my attacker’s jaws backward a few precious inches, twisting my fists farther into his fur, like I was wrapping my hands up in a dish towel. When my hands were strung into his fur as far as they could go, I gave a little.
Just enough.
He came down hard, viciously snapping at my face, his jaws within a hairsbreadth of tearing my skin. Then I extended my arms forward, snapping my elbow in a quick motion, at the same time twisting his head to the side. There was a small but satisfying crack. One angry yowl and he went still, the weight of his head falling heavily into my arms.
“That’s what you get for messing with me,” I panted, my hands still firmly planted in his fur. Adrenaline pumped through me at a steady pace. It was delicious. The strength dizzying.
One twitch, and the wolf’s head shot up off my chest. Shit. This one must heal faster than normal. I hadn’t really thought I’d killed him—that would’ve been too easy—but a girl could dream. My arms were still firmly entwined in his fur, so I kept him back as his teeth gnashed inches from my face. He unleashed a low, nasty growl as his jowls dripped thick saliva on my chest.
Well, hell. Fear pierced me deep in the chest for the first time. I might lose. This wolf was too strong for me. As quickly as the thought entered my mind, a massive tide of power surged up inside, pushing against me so fiercely I almost let go.
In an instant, my fingers pulsed, my nails morphing to sharp points. My canines followed, lengthening to deadly spears in my mouth. My muscles danced under my skin, pulling and shifting. Fur sprung heavily along my forearms.
No pain this time. Instead it was exhilarating.
My attacker lifted his nose and scented the air, growling as he registered the power shift. His eyes blazed with a cold fury.