“You’re bleeding all over my rug,” she pointed out.
He glanced down and stepped off the rug. “We’ll have to dispose of it,” he warned.
“What? I like this rug. I’m not throwing it away.”
His brows drew down. “Yes, you are.”
Okay. She so wasn’t into this alpha crap. Jessie wanted him gone. But it didn’t seem like he was planning to move anytime soon. And every bit of him was far too—large,dammit, she’d looked—to force him to do anything.
Not to mention she wasn’t putting her hands anywhere on that magnificent—she called it like it was—body to try. She no longer trusted herself. Not one bit.
All of this added up to the fact he was here to stay, at least for now. And no way she’d continue this conversation as long as certain things were exposed to the brisk breeze coming in the broken window. Not that they seemed at all disturbed by the cold, she noted. In fact—
Okay, if he was staying, she couldn’t cope with that waving at her. Way too distracting.
“Don’t move,” she cautioned. Keeping a close eye on him, she opened the closet behind her, and one-armed rooted through her stuff. No way any of it would fit. The guy was huge, in every way the word mattered.
Finally came up with a pair of stretchy harem pants. Maybe...
He surveyed the bright floral print she flung toward him and his eyebrows rose.
“Put them on. I’ve seen enough fur and skin for one night.”
He grimaced at the flowers, but he pulled them on. On her, the crotch hung loose. Not so much on him. They hugged his contours, of which there were many. It made for a vision almost as pornographic as the complete lack of attire. How could any guy be hot in floral harem pants?
But he was.
Man, was he ever.
When had she become a nymphomaniac? Jessie clamped down on her libido. Although she was tempted to snap a photo. Good thing she wasn’t sure where her phone had fallen.
Okay.Time for some answers. As he gave the pants a last tug, which jiggled some things in an intriguing manner, she demanded, “So who the hell are you?”
“Name’s Kade,” he rumbled. His voice suited the beast as much as the man. “And I need you ready to leave in five.”
* * *
Locked in a nightmare, Zach twisted in the bedcovers. But this time, it wasn’t about the accident.
He thrashed and screamed.Then shot upright, sending Spike flying off the bed.
“Sorry, buddy.” Zach’s heart raced, and cold sweat covered him. He raised his hands to his face. What the bloody hell had that been?
His imagination tended to paint his dreams in color, and the nightmares too. But he’d never dreamed of werewolves.
Until now.
The images raced through his beleaguered brain. Teeth and claws. Huge, bestial forms. Fear and blood. And something that set his own blood on fire.
Lust.
What he didn’t need were new nightmares. He had enough with the old ones. Spike jumped back onto the bed and wagged his tail. Zach buried his fingers in the thick ruff and checked the time. He’d gone to bed early, hoping for a solid twelve. He’d only been down for four hours.
With a sigh, he flung his long legs off the bed. Time for tea.
Mug in hand and a bag of cookies beneath one arm, he returned to the bedroom and flicked on the TV. Not much to pick from at this time of night. He propped himself up with pillows and settled for an old B-grade monster movie. The giant, stop-action insects were amusing.
At some point in the monster-munch fest, he dozed off.
