He narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Probably best if you’re busy. I’m bad news for a woman like you.”
“What kind of woman is that?” she asked, trying not to let her teeth chatter.
His grin slowly grew. “A good girl.” He gave her a wink and turned, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he gave her his back and walked to his cabin without another look.
Oh, that man knew what he was doing. He knew how to play games. For a moment, she’d thought she was the feline, but he’d reminded her she was the tiny mouse instead. He’d known the exact thing to say to dare her into joining him for breakfast. Call her a “good girl,” and everything in her wanted to prove him wrong, especially after what they’d done tonight.
“Hmm,” she hummed, narrowing her eyes as he closed the door to his cabin behind him.
She had the marrow-deep feeling that for the next week, Gentry Striker was going to be a beautiful distraction from the mess her life had become.
Chapter Five
What the fuck had possessed him to do that? He’d jizzed all over her like a dog marking his territory. And in a way, he was! His wolf thought that was a great idea, spraying her stomach like that. He hadn’t meant to do it, though. He’d meant to keep her clean, but when it came down to it, she tasted so good, felt so warm and soft against his body, smelled so damn good, made those sexy little bedroom noises every time he touched her, he hadn’t been able to stop his wolf. Shit! He couldn’t lose control like that again. He’d been fighting his inner animal half the time they were fooling around. And he was letting his armor slip. She’d asked him about the cold not affecting him, but she hadn’t bought his excuse. He could tell. Blaire was a smart woman. She would figure him out quick if he didn’t get control of himself.
Kissing her? It was against werewolf law to mix with humans, and he hadn’t even made it a damn night before he was on her like a rutting animal.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Wolves didn’t fool around with humans like he was doing with Blaire. She wasn’t supposed to call to him, and yet here he was, pacing the living room, completely consumed by thoughts of her.
Okay. Settle down. There is a logical explanation.
Dad just died a week ago. Gentry was spiraling, in a place he hated, pissed at his brothers for staying MIA, and he was horny as fuck. Yeah, that was all this was. He would bring them back around to the friend zone tomorrow, keep his dick far away from her, and in six tiny days, she would be gone forever.
A long snarl blasted from his throat that he had to swallow down. He was breaking apart! Gentry needed to do something because pacing the living room wasn’t helping, and he had another boner just thinking about the way Blaire’s tits had looked all covered with his semen. God, he’d wanted her so bad. He’d wanted to be buried balls deep inside her more than he’d ever wanted anything. It was a miracle he didn’t go too far. No, fuck that, he’d still gone too far. He’d kissed her and touched her and made her come twice, and then he’d freaking marked his territory like an animal. And she wasn’t his! Not even close. Could never be his, so again, what the fuck was he doing?
He wanted to kill her ex for making her feel invisible, and he didn’t even know the asshole. He wanted to feed her, and not macaroni like he’d joked. The first thing he’d done when he came back in was pull out a sirloin from the freezer to thaw because Blaire deserved steak and eggs and food fit for a queen. She was a queen. Classy but with a secret freak-side he found so damn sexy. Would probably make cute little red-headed pups. No, not pups—she was human. Something was wrong with him, or broken. And, hell yeah, he was panicking. He’d never even met another werewolf who hooked up with a human, and here he was imagining Blaire holding his firstborn kid. Fuck!
Gentry needed to Change.
His entire body was humming and felt like it was being shredded. This was going to suck with a healing rib, but there wasn’t any help for it. He would never sleep until he let the wolf roam the winter woods outside.
He undressed on his way to the back door, leaving a pile of jeans and boxer briefs in his wake. Outside, the snow prickled against his bare feet, but it still wasn’t uncomfortable enough to make him wince. He froze and listened. Blaire’s soft voice was so quiet behind the walls of her cabin he could barely make out her humming. She was happy.
Good.
“Stop caring,” he growled out to his asshole wolf. “You’re going to get us killed.”
And worse than that, he was going to get Blaire hunted. A relationship would be dangerous for both of them. Werewolves didn’t go too far off the beaten path. Not even rogues paired up with humans. It was taboo. It wasn’t just frowned upon either. It. Was. Forbidden.
Breeding with humans would be the end of the species. It would mean no more werewolf pups being born. It would mean exposure to other humans and certain death in some government testing facility somewhere, or as war-dog weapons in human wars. There were rules in place for a reason, and Gentry believed in the need for those rules.
Bullshit.
“Fuck you.”
His spine cracked, and Gentry bent in on himself suddenly. His wolf was punishing him by crippling his body and Changing slowly, breaking one bone at a time and drawing out the pain.
He gritted his teeth against the urge to grunt. That would only make Wolf happy. He hated when it was like this, when he and the animal were fighting. It was times like these that Gentry realized just how much control Wolf had.