Tempted (Two Marks 1)

So I kept quiet about the truth. It would come out when I caught her on pack land. On July twelfth, as she’d said. Hopefully, Gib and Ben would still be away then, and Landry and I could handle her. Because they’d tasked us both with taking care of the pack, and we had to resolve this. In the meantime, I had my inner wolf to satisfy. I couldn’t walk away from her now. No fucking way.

I needed to touch her. Breathe her in. Hear her moan in pleasure. Cry out my name as she came. Know she was dripping with need—for me. I longed for Landry to be here too, to agree with me that there was something about this human that appealed to my wolf. If we were mates, that meant she’d appeal to his as well.

But he wasn’t here. Yet the need to please her was strong. Too strong to deny.

I leaned in, and spoke quietly, as she had. “That is naughty. But that’s in two weeks. How about tonight? Are you naughty tonight?”

Her eyes widened as she stared at me. I watched, and knew the second she caught on. Her pupils narrowed and her mouth fell open.

Then she looked me over as if I was on the menu and she was deciding if she’d eat me up.

3

CAITLYN

“I’m Wade, by the way.” The broad-shouldered cowboy offered his hand.

“Caitlyn.” I clasped his fingers. The moment we touched, I nearly fell off my barstool. It was like the floor tilted. Damn, that wine had really gone to my head.

Suddenly, I was breathless and hot. Completely off-kilter.

Maybe it wasn’t the wine. Maybe it was the attention from the very interested, very hot stranger beside me. And I felt all that from just a handshake.

Well, he wasn’t a stranger anymore. Now, I knew his name. That made it okay, right? To feel something way more than I should for someone I’d just met. For his touch to be practically electrified.

I held onto his hand—his big, dinner plate-sized one—taking him in. He was a jumble of contradictions. He was rugged but clean-shaven. His forearms were pure, corded muscle. However, his hands weren’t calloused. They were warm, gentle, and somehow just that simple hold made me feel… safe. Yet he was definitely a danger to my panties because they were wet, making me want to squirm.

Dave, the bartender, showed up with Wade’s food, and I forced myself to pull my hand away. Wade shook his head at Dave. “I’ll take it to go.” He dropped two fifties on the bar, then looked to me. “Right, sugar?”

I swallowed hard. Blinked. Couldn’t say anything.

“For her tab, too,” he added.

His voice was a deep growl that reverberated right through me. It made my nipples go hard.

“Oh. Um. Wow. Thank you,” I finally said. Wait, did that—very blatantly—mean he assumed we were leaving together? That he would eat his dinner… later?

I should be stunned he assumed so much. That I was, what? An easy lay? Or could he sense that I felt something, more than I would if I just picked up some random guy… some random other guy.

Why did Wade seem different? Why was I not worried? Why did I want him to eat that steak later, but me first?

“Are you picking me up?” I blurted, tucking my hair back. God, had I even combed it since this morning?

“Hmm. Let me see.” He stood and moved behind me, making me turn and laugh because I didn’t know what he was doing. He gripped the sides of my barstool and lifted it into the air. “Now I’m picking you up.”

I laughed, and a slow smile slid across his face. “Show off.”

Dear gawd. He had every reason to show off. Not every guy could dead-lift a barstool with a hundred-pound woman perched on it.

He put me down and rested a casual hand on the back of the stool, leaning close and grinning down at me.

Dave delivered a to-go box and set Wade’s change on the bar. Wade picked up the box, leaving the money as a tip. “Want to get out of here?”

“Oh. Um. Yes. Okay.” If I was nervous, it wasn’t because I thought Wade was sketchy. It was more that I had no game. I usually ignored men’s attempts to flirt when I was here or on campus. Dating just wasn’t worth the hassle. All guys wanted was to get laid, especially in a university environment. Maybe this guy did too. No, obviously he did, but I was the one who felt different.

I didn’t know what made this guy special, but I sensed something new in every cell of my body. For once, my logical mind wasn’t in charge.

My body said yes. My nipples were poking against my bra as if trying to reach him. My pussy ached for some action—from an actual man, not a battery-operated boyfriend. I didn’t care to entertain any arguments otherwise.