Beauty Dates the Beast by Jessica Sims Page A

chest. It was remarkably perfect, without a hint of softness.
    “Silver?”
    “I … oh, yes,” I said, shaking myself free of the mesmerizing hold his abs had on me. “Don’t go in the kitchen. There’s silver water everywhere.”
    He grabbed my wrist. To my surprise, he pushed me back against the wall, his hands grabbing my shoulders and running over my body in a fast check. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Answer me.”
    Bewildered, I stared at him and tried to shove his hands away. “I’m fine—”
    A low growl escaped his throat and he kissed me.
    It was like being swallowed into the eye of a storm. All rational thought went out the window. His lips crushed mine, frantic and possessive. His tongue stroked against the seam of my mouth, demanding entrance and demanding my submission. It was glorious. I wanted more. I opened my mouth, my tongue seeking his. They touched briefly, then tangled. His tongue stroked along mine, lighting a series of flickering sensations along the rest of my body. Gasping noises emerged from my throat, followed by a possessive growl of his own. I needed this—oh, I needed this. His tongue was conquering, thrusting, dominating. God, his mouth tasted so sweet and …
    I broke away from the kiss. Had I totally lost my head? Sara was here and turning into a wolf,and Beau was going to scent her at any moment. I grasped at his arms, torn between the urge to leap into them again and the urge to fling him away from me. “Beau, how … what are you doing here?”
    “Making sure that you’re safe,” he said, releasing my shoulders. Then he jerked me close to him again, his hands roaming over my body in a motion that I wasn’t sure was protective or possessive—but I liked it. His gaze met mine as he brushed his fingers against my cheek. “It’s a damn good thing, too. What were you thinking, confronting that creature?”
    “What was I supposed to do?” I frowned at him.
    “You and Sara should have run—”
    I shook my head. “It would have chased us. This way I kept her safe.”
    “While risking your own—”
    I shoved at his shoulders, baring my teeth in fear and anger. “
My
sister,
my
responsibility. Not yours.”
    “You could have been hurt,” he said in a softer voice. His eyes were smoky with desire, his body moving closer to my own. The look on his face could have melted butter. The press of his body against me told me Beau was really turned on by my protectiveness.
    Flustered, I tried to change the subject. “Whateverthat thing was, it smelled putrid. Like it was dead.”
    “It was a shifter of some sort,” Beau murmured, stroking my crunchy hair. “But not like any I’ve ever seen.”
    “What do you mean?”
    He was silent. What, was he afraid to divulge top-secret shifter stuff? Like I gave a crap. I punched his arm. “Tell me.”
    “Ow. Careful. You have silver on your hands.” He pulled his shoulder away slightly, but his hands didn’t leave my body.
    “Sorry,” I said, pulling my hands away.
    “You can keep them on me,” he said against my mouth, and then grinned. “Just keep them above the waist.”
    Distracted at the thought, I tried to concentrate. “The shifter … what was it?”
    “I don’t know,” he said, then released me. “I need to make a few calls.”
    Just like that? I swallowed my disappointment when he went into my living room and picked up the landline. My life had no room for a sexy, protective were-cougar, as much as I might have wanted otherwise.
    When he greeted the person on the other end of the line, I tiptoed through the silver water toward the pantry, where I’d last left Sara. It was silent.
    I opened the door, caught a hint of tail and shredded clothing. “Stay in there,” I whispered to her. “I’ll clean up the water and get rid of Beau.”
    She gave a small whine of response as I closed the door. I mopped up the water and poured it down the sink, then disposed of the broken glass that littered the room. Once