“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a novelty t-shirt.” He motions to the gym shirt crumpled on the floor. “Or that outfit last night. I would never guess you owned something like that.”
“It’s not my everyday office wear,” I say, “But I like to have fun. You taught me that,” I add, and flush. His particular brand of fun involved us on a motorcycle or somewhere with our clothes off.
“I don’t think Garrett ever saw you wearing that much makeup. He almost didn’t recognize you.”
“I thought he looked surprised.”
“Surprised? He almost shit his pants.”
I chew the inside of my cheek.
“Oh that’s right, you don’t swear,” Trey teases. “Someday I’m going to get you to say the ‘f’ word.”
I roll my eyes.
“Come on,” he wheedles. “Just once. Say it.”
“All right, fine.” I toss my head and announce, “The ‘F’ word.”
Trey groans. “I’m going to make you say it. ”
“Says the man who just got the wind knocked out of him on the floor.”
“Someday. I’ll catch you off guard. I’ll make you scream it.”
I narrow my eyes. “You will not.”
“I will,” he promises, his eyes hooded, gaze heavy on my face. My lips tingle. “Fuck, it’ll be so hot.”
Zing. Heat blooms between my legs at Trey’s admission. I don’t even know why he would think me saying the F word is hot, but knowing he does turns me on.
“Dream on, moonbrain,” I reply primly, and we both burst out laughing. Trey stretches out on the mat and I lie down next to him, within arm’s distance. It feels natural.
“Seriously, though,” he says. “Why did you learn moves like that?”
“You really want to know? You have to promise not to freak out.” At his sharp look, I sigh. “I had a stalker.”
“What?” His whole body jerks and I throw out a hand.
“Relax. It’s over. I took care of it.”
His eyes are wolf bright. “Who was he?” he growls.
“Some dumb frat guy. Rich, privileged family. I think his mother was a judge. He was obviously used to getting his own way. He got me alone in a room one night. Upstairs from a party. The music was blaring, I guess so no one could hear me scream. He came at me, pushed me onto the bed.” I pause, remembering that awful night.
“What happened?” Trey’s voice is thick, his wolf close to the surface.
“I threw him through a window.”
Trey blinks.
“That which doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger,” I recite today’s words of wisdom and shrug. “I’m not a victim, Trey. I’m a she-wolf. I have to act weak, protect the pack secret, but I was under attack. And he deserved it. The way he’d set up everything, he’d probably done it to other girls. I wanted to stop him.”
“So you threw him from an upper story window?”
“It was only the second story,” I defend. “He only broke both legs and an arm, a couple of ribs. We were able to write it off as an accident.”
“You threw your stalker out a window,” Trey says.
I hope I’m not imagining the glimmer of pride in his tone. “Yep.” I raise my chin and own it. “I defenestrated him. Defenestrate means To throw out a window,” I explain while Trey looks blank. “I learned that from a Word a Day calendar.”
“You and your calendars.” Trey shakes his head, but the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“Now are you ready to believe me when I say I can handle some vampires?”
He hangs his head. “I guess. I don’t like it, but… damn.”
“What?”
“You’ve changed. I like it. I like it. A lot.”
“Thanks.” I want to turn away, hide how much his opinion means to me. Before I can, he raises a large hand halfway to my face, and stops. I freeze, staring down at him. After a moment, he pushes a lock of hair off my cheek and tucks it behind my ear.
“Sheridan,” he murmurs. “Sheridan Green. Where have you been hiding?”
Right where you left me, I want to scream. Back in Wolf Ridge, picking up the pieces of my broken heart.
Instead of shouting, I shudder as his thumb rubs my lower lip. His touch goes right through me, tingling lower down.
“You always were so sweet. But also wild,” his voice deepens. “At least, you were with me.”
This is Trey! The sane part of me screams. He’s a player! He wrote the player playbook!
The rest of me sighs as he cups the back of my neck, drawing me closer. His eyes are the blue of faraway tropical waters and my brain wants to take a vacation.
“So naughty. And nice. And…” His lips brush my mouth and I close my eyes. “Open, open,” he whispers, and I obey, my lips seeking his, my mind dizzy and grasping his commands like a lifeline. “Yes, that’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.” He deepens the kiss, his big hand threading through my hair and angling my head where he wants it. I relax and let him take control, my whole body singing, sighing, drinking every word and touch and whisper until I’m floating.
“Trey,” I breathe and he answers me with another small kiss. This is crazy. We’re supposed to be fighting. We were fighting and then what happened? Trey magic. He draws back and I moan a little, following him with my mouth. I’m supposed to be strong. What was I doing? I can be strong.
I break the kiss. He doesn’t force anything more, just tips my head forward until my forehead touches his, and shakes his head slowly. We stay like that moment, breath mingling, moving in sync.
The thick scent of my own lust hits me, and I draw back. Trey releases me, and I scramble into a sitting position, breathing hard even though we haven’t been moving. I wish I had some words of wisdom right now, but all I can think of is a variation on Give a man a fish…
Give a player a kiss, and he owns you. Teach a player to kiss, and he locks lips with every freakin’ female in a hundred mile radius…