Page 41 of Wolf Promise
He pulled her closer, enveloping her in his arms. “Are you still upset about what your grandfather said?”
She snuggled into his warmth. Who could think about anything else but how good he felt when he stood this close? “No, I’m fine,” she mumbled against his chest. She pulled away before she did something stupid, like tear off his shirt and have her way with him. “You’re probably tired. I’ll let you get some rest.”
“Are you saying I look tired?” He chuckled and nudged up her chin with a knuckle, forcing her to look into his gorgeous hazel eyes.
“No, what I mean is that you’ll be able to search for the stalker better if you grab some rest now, while you can.” She sounded like a stuttering idiot.
“Nice recovery.” He quirked an eyebrow, grinning at her.
His lovely smile lightened his hazel eyes to light green. Not the bottle green of his wolf, but that of a forest lake on a clear sunny day. And when he appeared happy, his chiseled face took on a boyish slant. Well, a bad-boyish slant. Familiar heat pooled deep inside her. “A few hours in bed will make you more efficient later, I think. Maybe?” She had an advanced degree and still she babbled like an idiot. What was wrong with her? “I mean, I’m always more productive when I’ve had some rest.” This man, that was the problem. This man and his effect on her body made her forget how to speak in sentences that were above a fifth-grade reading level.
He pulled her closer. “Why don’t you join me in bed? Knowing that you are right next to me so I can protect you will definitely make me feel rest better.” His kiss started out light, lips nipped at hers, sampling and coaxing.
But then, it turned more demanding. His mouth pressed firmer against hers, and his teeth added just enough zing for her to melt into his arms.
She kissed him back. Hard.
Electricity crackled through every nerve in her body, heat tracing her skin.
She thought about all the reasons for why going to bed with him would be a bad idea. Their fake relationship. He kind of worked for her. Well, she didn’t exactly sign his paycheck, but he worked for a company that she had hired. Actually, Heimdall didn’t really work for her. They’d signed a contract to protect her, yes, but her firm paid their bill. So, did Bolt work for her?
As if he knew her brain was working overtime, Bolt shed his jacket and backed her up toward the couch. At the last minute, he turned and sat, pulling her down into his lap. He grunted when her bottom met his hard cock.
She wiggled against him, which earned her a deep groan and a harder grip around her shoulders. His other hand brushed her hair back and then trailed down the ridge of her ear and the line of her jaw. She loved that gesture and leaned into his palm.
He released her mouth, and on the other side of her face, his lips followed a similar path to the one his fingertip had taken. “Come to bed with me,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
She wanted to protest. Being physically intimate with him would really screw with her brain. She already had problems remembering that their relationship wasn’t real.
And then she remembered the promise she’d made to herself earlier in the evening. For tonight, she would just feel and not worry about anything else. She opened her lips to say okay, but as he scraped his teeth along her jawline, down her neck, and lightly bit her collarbone, she forgot all her words and instead a loud moan escaped her lips.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating inside her ribcage. Standing up, he scooped her into his arms and strode into her bedroom. He dropped her onto the comforter, leaned over her, and claimed another long, deep kiss.
A thought managed to penetrate her lust-infused brain fog, and she pressed against his chest. He leaned back, frowning, his gaze searching her face.
“The cameras,” she whispered. “I forgot about the cameras in the living room.”
A smile lit up those gorgeous eyes again. “I’ll have someone erase the footage. But they wouldn’t see much. I made sure my back faced the lens most of the time.”
Clever, clever, man.
She grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down further, but he resisted, holding himself up. Tracing her arms over his shoulder and down his arms, she reveled in the feel of his hard muscles flexing under her touch. She reached up and nipped his jaw.
Bolt growled, eyes blazing in the semi-darkness. He pulled the tie over his head and flung it across the room.
Regie scooted up on her knees and helped him unbutton his shirt. Pulling the sides apart, she paused to admire his chiseled front. She bit her lip, tracing a finger from his collarbone down his chest , across his abs, and then along the line of dark hair that his pants interrupted.
“You’re killing me,” Bolt rumbled, throwing the shirt in the same direction as the tie.
“Just admiring the goods,” Regie whispered, leaning back to see him in all of his bare-chested glory. “Like Grandfather said, I haven’t had a stud in my bed for ages.” She smiled and started to unbutton his pants.
He caught her hands. “That’s enough punishment for me. Now it’s your turn.” He rolled to the side and onto his back, pulling her on top of him.
She sprawled against his front, wiggling her hips against his delicious hardness.
He drew in a quick breath as he traced the decollete of her dress. “This dress looks amazing on you, but it’s time for it to go.”
Regie sat up and freed her legs and butt from the dress material. She crossed her arms in front, grabbed the garment at her waist, and pulled it over her head.