Page 127 of Dominion
He didn’t want to tell her his last name was Steele. Not now, maybe not ever. “Cody.”
She rolled her eyes but went on. “Mr. Cody. It’s more a work of art than a mere building. One of the members of the CJ Steele Construction team built this one, and it has all the same touches, which raises its value significantly. In time, I believe CJ Steele properties will become as sought after as, say, Frank Lloyd Wright buildings in other cities.”
Cody gaped at her. Was she really comparing him with an architect? An artist? Some unknown emotion threatened to expand his chest beyond comfort. An itchiness came over him, like he needed to shift and run. But from what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe from the feelings closing his throat.
She stepped to the center of the room and pointed toward the floor. “The wood floor looks like pine, but it’s actually Australian cypress”—she shot him a questioning look and he nodded in affirmation—“which is a harder wood and far more durable. Notice the builder chose to leave the interior walls as the same rough log as the exterior. This is a classic CJ Steele technique of exposing the raw materials. He doesn’t hide anything; instead he puts it front and center. In his industrial remodels, he exposes brick and uses the steel housing for electrical wires as a focal point. Here, in this cabin, he brings the outdoors in, yet still provides every comfort you’d crave in a getaway.” She trailed off with her monologue and looked at him sheepishly. “I know it’s not really a CJ Steele house, but I would sell it that way. Maybe I’d be cheating the buyer, I don’t know.” She shrugged.
He tried to speak around the knot in his throat. When nothing came out, he pulled her against him and crushed his lips to hers.
She gasped, jerking in surprise, then softening into the kiss. He slid his tongue between her lips, holding her nape to keep her captive. Then, because the little control he had was slipping, he pulled away.
“So your royal highness can stand the digs while I run?” He didn’t know why he had to poke her with that again, when he liked her the way she was now, soft and appreciative. It probably had something to do with needing something to wedge between them, because as much as his inner wolf screamed she was his, he didn’t want her. Not a human. He wasn’t going to make his father right.
She flinched, and when she turned, the haughty tilt of her chin told him his barb had hit its mark. “Is this just a new cage to lock me in while you go off and do your thing?” She put her hands on hips, her perky breasts seeming to taunt him through her snug cotton tee. “Am I allowed to step out the door?”
Hating the way he’d changed things between them, he picked up the saddlebags and tossed the food supplies in the refrigerator. “You’re safe enough here. You can sit outside on the deck, but don’t go further than that.”
She sniffed. “I should’ve brought the Chromebook up here.”
“There’s no Wi-Fi or cell phone signal. We’re out of range.”
“So exactly what do you think I’m going to do while you’re off on your run?”
“You could make yourself useful and get dinner ready for the pack.” He didn’t mean it, but he knew it would annoy her.
Her eyes narrowed. “Great, so the wolves go on a run and the lowly human stays home to cook their meal? This patriarchal wolf dominance thing is starting to get old.”
“You love the way I dominate you.” He stalked closer to her, backing her into a wall.
Her breath hitched, eyes dilated.
He sank his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp before he tugged her head back.
“Ow. What are you doing?”
The scent of her arousal made him insinuate his knee between her legs before the thought even entered his brain. “Princess, the moon is full. Leaving you here and going for a run isn’t a pleasure, it’s a necessity. You want to know why?”
Her plump lips parted. “Yeah.”
“Because, baby.” He grazed her ear with his teeth. “If I spend one more second in here with you, I’m going to tear your clothes off and fuck you so long and hard you won’t be able to ride that motorcycle back tomorrow.”
She licked her lips and his eyes tracked the movement with hunger.
“Don’t tempt me like that, princess. You know I’d love to shove my cock in that hot little mouth of yours.”
He’d finally gone too far. Melissa shoved him back. “Jesus, Cody.”
He pulled his shirt off and her eyes widened, dipping to his chest and abs, following his happy trail to the place it descended into his jeans. He laughed darkly as he walked to the bedroom, unbuttoning his jeans. He kicked them off and shifted, running for the dog door at the rear before his paws hit the wooden floor.
Melissa’s heartpounded for long moments after Cody disappeared. Her panties were soaked, a constant every time she was around that dominant, dirty-talking wolf. Just once, she’d like to put him in his place, or send him off-kilter the way he always made her feel.
She looked around the place, wavering between self-pity over Cody dumping her there without much explanation about what was happening with the pack and their run, and pleasure at the incredible surroundings. The cabin—if you called it that—blew her mind. It was odd Cody didn’t realize how impressive it was, but then, he worked on CJ Steele projects all the time. Still, he owned this property—or his pack did. And she would put its value at close to a half million if it included as much land as she suspected it did. This property combined with the one he owned in the Old North End neighborhood put him at a net worth far higher than she’d originally estimated. Cody wasn’t just some construction worker living paycheck to paycheck. Or if he was, he’d invested wisely. She’d definitely misjudged him.
She thrust the pang of guilt away. He may have financial resources, but that still didn’t make him dependable. Or nice.
But nice didn’t go as far as she wished it did for her where it came to men. Never had.
Cody’s brand of ‘not nice’ was about as sexy as it came. And while he may lack manners and have a degrading treatment of women, he wasn’t doing anything illegal, like Jeremy. He earned an honest living. Had a decent amount of honor, actually.