Wolf at the Door by Sadie Hart Page B

line of his torso, was sketched out in the soft light. A few
stray dark curls fell across his temple. His jaw was shadowed with
stubble. A dark line of hair made a trail down his lower abdomen
until it disappeared beneath the sheet riding his hips. She
swallowed, suddenly parched. There was no un-seeing the man
sleeping on her couch. Though even if she could, she wouldn’t wipe
the memories clean.
    Seeing Brandt like that woke her up,
electrified things she’d long thought dead.
    Timber sighed and leaned back against the
wall, just watching him sleep. The steady rise and fall of his
chest. Everything inside her tightened, desire curling through her
in a fiery rush. She barely held back a wry laugh.
    Shoulda stayed in bed, girl .
    But there was no way Timber could haul
herself back up those stairs, not with Brandt sprawled out like a
banquet in front of her. Her throat went dry. She wanted to run her
hand over those lean muscles, feel the smooth hair under her
fingertips, the heat of his body against her skin.
    She closed her eyes. How long had it been
since she’d even thought about sex?
    God, she couldn’t remember.
    And yet, she’d kissed him yesterday and
wanted to kiss him again. A complete stranger, and here she was
staring down at him while he slept, but even as the thought crossed
her mind, she couldn’t help smiling. A stranger who already knew
more about her than she’d ever told anyone. A stranger who hadn’t
walked out the door, no matter how many outs she’d given him, or
how badly she’d treated him in the beginning.
    He’d already proven to be more important to
her life than anyone else in many years.
    And she was a fool if she thought it wasn’t
going to hurt when he finally walked away. It had to happen sooner
rather than later. Charles was a patient man, sick as fuck, but
patient. Brandt couldn’t sleep on her couch for weeks on end,
hoping to outlast him. He might not give up, but he couldn’t live
like this forever.
    Even if he did make one heck of a pretty
sight.
    Running her hand over her sleep-tangled hair,
Timber tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. It didn’t have
to be forever. Once upon a time, she’d been a forever kind of gal.
Wouldn’t have considered dating if she hadn’t been looking for The
One. Relationships had never been casual to her.
    Then she’d endured hell with Charles, and
relationships had ceased to exist.
    She wasn’t sure she believed in finding a
perfect match anymore. But occasional, casual, just someone in her life, however fleeting...that didn’t sound so bad.
Especially if it meant another kiss or two from the Hound stretched
out on her couch.
    “And you are bad,” she whispered to herself,
shaking off the fantasies before she did something very foolish.
“Thinking thoughts you have no business thinking.”
    She was halfway across the room when she
paused, her gaze drifting over his sun-bronzed skin again, the lean
cut of his torso, the dark curl of his hair. There was nothing in
the kitchen that would slake her sudden, burning curl of need.
Timber bit her lip, wavering.
    Upstairs, she could finger herself off, but
the thought of Brandt waking, of him hearing, made her knees
tremble, threatening to give out from under her. Fuck, but after
everything, what she wanted was him . One night, two rational
adults.
    It was a stupid idea, one Brandt might not
even go for. After all, she was supposed to be a job. People
weren’t supposed to sleep with their assignments. She rocked back
and forth on her heels, debating, when Brandt stirred, one muscled
arm rising to rest across his forehead just as his dark eyes
blinked open. In an instant they seemed to cut through the darkness
and land on her.
    Suddenly he was awake, his body tensing. He
slowly sat up. “Everything okay?”
    Couldn’t he smell the arousal in the air? She
sure as hell could. Then his eyes darkened to a rich mocha and his
nostrils flared. Aware. A grin tugged at her lips when he froze,