Tempted (Two Marks 1)

Landry—my scent-match—and I had pleasured women after those full-moon runs, but I’d never screwed around on my own. Especially not with a human.

Not that I was trying to pick up Caitlyn. I was here on business. I’d been entrusted with a serious pack problem, and I needed to act accordingly.

Focus. Find out her plans, steer her away from our land.

Damn, the idea of picking her up appealed to me, though. Watching as her pupils dilated with need. Noticing when her delectable scent changed to be laced with her dripping arousal.

I took another breath. Fuck. My dick went hard, and I shifted on my stool. She hadn’t even looked at me yet.

Then she did, and I was in more trouble than I’d been in getting my paw caught in that old bear trap when I was nineteen.

She offered a dazzling smile that I sure as hell didn’t deserve. “I love it. It’s what I always get.” A teasing brow quirked as she looked me over. I shifted again, hoping she didn’t see how my dick was outlined beneath my jeans. “You don’t strike me as the salad type, though.”

I grinned back. It was impossible not to. “I eat my vegetables,” I bragged, tipping my hat back. “But you’re right. I’d rather have the whole steak. Do they serve that?”

She reached across the bar and grabbed the menu, pushing it my way. “They do, and it’s delicious. It comes with the best gourmet mashed potatoes you’ve ever tasted—and broccoli.”

I didn’t bother reading the offerings. “Sounds like a winner.” I lifted my chin at the bartender who still hovered nearby. “I’ll have the steak. Rare.”

A man moved between us to talk to the bartender and I gritted my teeth, wishing I’d chosen the seat beside Caitlyn. I stifled the growl that wanted to escape my chest, to tell the guy that he needed to fuck off, even if he was only closing out his tab.

I didn’t like another male getting close to her. Or between us.

Caitlyn shifted her purse away, and her keys dropped to the floor.

I moved before she could, stooping to pick them up. “You like wolves?” I asked, running my thumb over the metal wolf on her keychain.

The guy turned, and I moved back so he could leave. Then I tugged my barstool closer so no one else could get in my way.

“Caitlyn studies wolves,” the bartender offered.

Shit, that hadn’t worked. I wanted to punch his teeth in. Didn’t he have other customers to help?

Please tell me she was not involved with this fucker.

I shook my head to clear it. What in the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t actually here to pick up Caitlyn. To keep her safe, and away from other males. To keep their scent off her. To put mine on her.

No.

I was here on pack business. To assess how big a problem she was going to be.

Not to get in her pants.

I definitely didn’t want to get in her pants.

Oh, fuck. Yes, I did. I really wanted to peel those tight jeans down her slender hips and see everything inside them. To push her over the barstool so that tight ass was upturned. Spank it. Then get down on my knees behind her, and taste every drop of her sweet honey. Because I knew she was sweet. Everywhere. I could smell it.

“You study wolves, eh?” I tried to sound casual, to keep the wolf out of my voice.

She nodded, tucking her long hair behind her ear. I wondered if it was as silky as it looked. Whether she’d cream if I wrapped it around my fingers and held on as I fucked her from behind.

“Yep. Wolf biologist.”

I blinked… and took a sip of my beer.

“Are you in graduate school?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. She’d gotten her PhD from Montana State, and moved here to do her post doc.

She wasn’t just a pretty face. She was fucking smart too.

“I’m a research scientist,” she answered, gripping the stem of her wine glass and swirling the burgundy liquid inside. “I’m studying wolf mating patterns.”

I could show you a thing or two about wolf mating…

Fuck. I took another deep swig from my pint glass and digested what she’d said. Mating patterns. That might be okay. It wasn’t population growth.

“Really? So, how do you study them? Out in the wild?”

She took a sip of wine, angling her knees in my direction for the conversation. It was obvious this was something she was passionate about, that lit her up. “Yes. I chip them so we can track their territorial and mating habits. We’re looking at pack growth since the reintroduction of the grey wolf in the nineties.”

Fuck. That was definitely not what I wanted to hear.

“We?” I asked.

She offered a small eye roll. “Well, me. But my boss is closely monitoring my work.”