“Get in and scoot over.”
She obeys. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed. “What are you doing?”
I grab a pillow-she’s got about a million, all different shapes and sizes. A few of them spill onto the floor as the bed sags under my weight. Tight fit, but we’ll make it work. “I’m going to sleep.”
“With me?”
Hell, yes, with you! My wolf asserts.
Down, boy.
I try for stern. “If you’re lucky, all I’ll do is sleep.” I lie down, my big body caging her against the wall. “Keep up the games, and I’ll punish you for real. Then we’ll sleep.” I swear I scent her arousal, which makes my cock surge into ready mode.
“Whatever you say, big man,” she says sweetly and I’m pretty sure she’s won this round because I’m the asshole with a hard-on so thick it could lift a car, and all she has is my handprint on her ass.
“Good girl,” I rumble. That’s right, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who can play that game.
I’ve started to relax when a small voice asks, “What exactly do you mean by punish me?”
“Keep pushing, and you’ll find out.” I drape my arm over my face, but it’s no use. I’m sprung. I should’ve taken the floor.
A deep breath is my only warning before Foxfire makes her next move.
My dick is suddenly happy-very happy-to be straddled by a lithe little body. Her hands rest on my pecs, and she leans forward, her breath warming my face.
In one move, I roll and pin her. Her breath shudders out of her, and the scent of her arousal definitely fills the air.
“Tank?”
“You don’t want this, baby.” Seriously. I would tear her apart. Her hips jerk, and I thrust my erection into the notch between her legs.
Oh fuck, I think she’s wet for me. Even through my jeans, I can feel her panties are hot and damp. She wraps her slender legs around my waist, inviting me home.
I shove her tight tank top up and groan at the sight of her breasts. Not too big, not too small. A perfect handful. “Oh baby, those nipples were meant to be licked, weren’t they?”
She arches up, offering them to me. I lean over and flick one with my tongue then graze it with my teeth.
When I look back up at her face, her gray eyes are wide. All pretense is gone. She’s not playing crazy or babygirl, she’s panting and watching me, apparently transfixed.
I slam my hips home again, wishing like hell I wasn’t just dry humping this little beauty.
She gasps. “Ow-um, you’re hurting me.”
Instantly, I let go and jerk away.
Fuck.
“No, it’s okay,” she says. It was just my hair was caught under the weight of your hand.”
No, I would definitely hurt her if I kept going. Better to stop now, before I’ve gone so far it’s not possible. I scrub my face, angling away from her so she doesn’t see how very close I am to tearing her skimpy clothes off and finishing what she started.
“Stay here. Go to sleep,” I say.
~.~
Foxfire
I’m all hot and bothered. I could finger myself, but Tank’s so close, he might hear me. He has really good hearing. And a good sense of smell. And he can practically see in the dark.
Too bad he’s not gonna fuck me. He must have some sort of code of honor, because I know he wants me. I never thought of motorcycle men as prudes, but there ya go.
Now I wish I hadn’t said he was hurting me. I meant for him to move his hand from my hair, not to jump off me like I burned him.
I wait a few minutes and then pad out of the bedroom, heading for the kitchen. If I can’t seduce him, I’ll escape another way.
“Foxfire? “What are you doing?”
“Just getting a drink of water.”
If you’re not back in bed in two minutes-”
“I know, I know, punishment,” I call back merrily, and turn on the water, but not before I hear a creak. He’s coming into the kitchen. It’s now or never.
I duck into the little room off the kitchen, and crouch by the door. For once, I’m glad Benny didn’t get around to replacing it. It came with a doggie door-useless because I’ve never had a pet. Useless, until now.
“What the fuck?” Tank growls, just as I scramble through the flap.
“Stop,” he shouts. He comes after me, hitting the door, but the deck is warped, and the door only opens partway. Another Benny project, never finished, the lazy asshole. The door opens enough that I can slip through, but a guy built like a Tank won’t have so much luck.
Then Tank hits it again, with such force it shudders but doesn’t break. Damn. Tough guy.
I find my feet and run, glad I thought to put on sneakers. I race up the small hill behind my house and down into the wash.
I chose this house because it was cute, right near downtown, but with the backyard against a wash, which means I get front-row access to wildlife and desert. The nearby open space relaxes me. When it’s nice, I work out on the patio, looking over the sandy banks, tangled with mesquite and creosote. I imagine running out there, hiking all day to find out where it ends, getting lost and found again in the wild.
I never thought I’d need a place to run and hide.
I bound into the wildness, my sneakers scrabbling on the rocks.
“Get back here,” Tank roars. He’d better keep quiet if he doesn’t want the neighbors waking up.