form, hulking in the woods. The scent of bear was almost overpowering, and the sight of him struck a chord of fear in my heart. What if he had the temper that Roy had? What if that helpless lack of control was what all male shifters felt around a female? I wanted to talk to him, force him to change back and discuss Connor, but I couldn’t bring myself to approach the bear.
I headed back inside and slipped under the covers. It was a long time before Ramsey returned, and I heard him creak up the stairs before sliding into our room.
I feigned sleep, keeping my breathing even.
He entered and stood by the side of the bed, and the skin on the back of my nape prickled. I knew he was looking at me. After a moment he climbed into bed, his skin hot against mine, and I didn’t protest when he pulled me close and tucked me under his chin. My muscles relaxed, and I leaned into the solid warmth of his broad chest.
The man Ramsey didn’t frighten me. It was the beast aspect of him—and myself—that made me question everything.
Chapter Eight
T he next morning, Ramsey dropped me off at work with a polite kiss on the forehead and a murmured comment that he’d be back to pick me up in time for the Anderson barbeque. He didn’t like leaving me alone with Connor, and I didn’t like it, either. But if we were supposed to be assuming our normal lives, he couldn’t continue to hover around me. Even more than that, he wanted to show the Anderson wolves that he wasn’t about to back down, and that we weren’t intimidated by their threats.
But I was intimidated.
In fact, I was so intimidated that I wanted Ramsey to come in and spend the day shadowing me again, but he had a job to do, and Connor would suspect something if Ramsey continually hovered. So I reluctantly let him go.
Connor followed me in to the office, but he seemed bored as soon as we got there, so I gave him a stack of filing and instructions, and he got to work. He kept looking over at me, and I wondered if he expected me to spontaneously grow a tail. Exactlyhow often was a shifter supposed to transform, anyhow? I didn’t know these things, and it seemed stupid to ask.
My sister came in, dressed in a cheery yellow sweater and her favorite pair of jeans. Her long hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore a beaming smile. I greeted her with a smile of my own that faded when she sat down and pushed her hair off her neck.
Her white neck proudly displayed the enormous mate mark, and a hot blush stole over my face at the sight.
Mate marks are one of those peculiar things that every shifter can see plain as day but no human can pick up. It’s kind of a cross between a flush on the skin and a gleam of scent—hard to describe, but obvious to anyone with a tail. It declared a mate off-limits, possessed and proud of the fact.
I touched my own neck thoughtfully. Connor had stared at it, and I wondered if he was going to tell his father that I hadn’t been marked. Perhaps it was time to take the pretending to a whole new level. If I had a mate mark on my neck for the dance, it’d add much more credibility to our relationship.
A shiver flashed over me at the thought, and I pictured Ramsey’s big form looming over mine, his hot skin pressed against my own, mouth locked on my throat . . . jeez. I fanned myself with a file folder. It sure had gotten warm in here.
Maybe I’d bring it up to Ramsey tonight. I blushed at the thought, even as it made my pulserace. Excuse me, do you think you could bite me on the throat a few times? I want to make sure everyone thinks that I’m your mate. Don’t mind if I spontaneously orgasm. I’m doing this just for our charade.
I hadn’t had sex with a man since I was seventeen. Hadn’t even wanted to consider it. But sex was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched, and ever since I’d been bitten, my sex drive had been ramped up a notch. I usually took care of it myself, since the thought of a man touching me filled me
I headed back inside and slipped under the covers. It was a long time before Ramsey returned, and I heard him creak up the stairs before sliding into our room.
I feigned sleep, keeping my breathing even.
He entered and stood by the side of the bed, and the skin on the back of my nape prickled. I knew he was looking at me. After a moment he climbed into bed, his skin hot against mine, and I didn’t protest when he pulled me close and tucked me under his chin. My muscles relaxed, and I leaned into the solid warmth of his broad chest.
The man Ramsey didn’t frighten me. It was the beast aspect of him—and myself—that made me question everything.
Chapter Eight
T he next morning, Ramsey dropped me off at work with a polite kiss on the forehead and a murmured comment that he’d be back to pick me up in time for the Anderson barbeque. He didn’t like leaving me alone with Connor, and I didn’t like it, either. But if we were supposed to be assuming our normal lives, he couldn’t continue to hover around me. Even more than that, he wanted to show the Anderson wolves that he wasn’t about to back down, and that we weren’t intimidated by their threats.
But I was intimidated.
In fact, I was so intimidated that I wanted Ramsey to come in and spend the day shadowing me again, but he had a job to do, and Connor would suspect something if Ramsey continually hovered. So I reluctantly let him go.
Connor followed me in to the office, but he seemed bored as soon as we got there, so I gave him a stack of filing and instructions, and he got to work. He kept looking over at me, and I wondered if he expected me to spontaneously grow a tail. Exactlyhow often was a shifter supposed to transform, anyhow? I didn’t know these things, and it seemed stupid to ask.
My sister came in, dressed in a cheery yellow sweater and her favorite pair of jeans. Her long hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore a beaming smile. I greeted her with a smile of my own that faded when she sat down and pushed her hair off her neck.
Her white neck proudly displayed the enormous mate mark, and a hot blush stole over my face at the sight.
Mate marks are one of those peculiar things that every shifter can see plain as day but no human can pick up. It’s kind of a cross between a flush on the skin and a gleam of scent—hard to describe, but obvious to anyone with a tail. It declared a mate off-limits, possessed and proud of the fact.
I touched my own neck thoughtfully. Connor had stared at it, and I wondered if he was going to tell his father that I hadn’t been marked. Perhaps it was time to take the pretending to a whole new level. If I had a mate mark on my neck for the dance, it’d add much more credibility to our relationship.
A shiver flashed over me at the thought, and I pictured Ramsey’s big form looming over mine, his hot skin pressed against my own, mouth locked on my throat . . . jeez. I fanned myself with a file folder. It sure had gotten warm in here.
Maybe I’d bring it up to Ramsey tonight. I blushed at the thought, even as it made my pulserace. Excuse me, do you think you could bite me on the throat a few times? I want to make sure everyone thinks that I’m your mate. Don’t mind if I spontaneously orgasm. I’m doing this just for our charade.
I hadn’t had sex with a man since I was seventeen. Hadn’t even wanted to consider it. But sex was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched, and ever since I’d been bitten, my sex drive had been ramped up a notch. I usually took care of it myself, since the thought of a man touching me filled me
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