Roni swallowed hard. He’d spoken so directly, without apology, all the while holding her gaze with eyes that had darkened with need. Sexual tension throbbed between them, urging them closer. Her wolf lunged for him.
“Almost hurts, doesn’t it?”
It did. The tension was intense, overwhelming, and gripping. It pulled them together, almost like a compulsion.
“I’ll have you, Roni,” he rumbled. “Even if it kills me, I’ll have you.” It was a promise.
Once they arrived at Phoenix Pack territory, Nick assured the Phoenix wolves he’d be back the following morning—all the while urging Roni straight to his car. It was obvious that he was putting space between her and Marcus, and she quickly discovered there wasn’t anything more embarrassing for a girl than being dragged away from a guy by her brother.
Inside Nick’s car, she buckled herself in as she silently cursed her brother. Movement caught her eye, and she looked to see Marcus standing completely still next to his Toyota, staring directly at her. His expression was totally deadpan, but not those watchful, brooding eyes. They were alive with sexual energy and a magnetic intensity that kept her gaze trapped by his, making her unable to break the eye contact until Derren began a slow drive out of the lot.
“Don’t fall for his shit, Roni.” Nick’s voice was like a whip. “Guys like him . . . they know how to suck in and string along a female.”
“Are you sure your problem with him isn’t just that Shaya considers him a good friend?” Her brother was so possessive he was jealous of Shaya’s friendship with other males.
“This is about him, not me. The guy always turns on the charm and uses it as bait—”
“But in your own words, Nick,” injected Derren, “Roni’s resistant to charm. So you have no need to worry.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Give it up, Nick.” Roni was rapidly losing her patience. “You wouldn’t want to push me into Marcus’s arms, would you? You know how dominant females will go against pushy advice just to be contrary.”
“I’m just looking out for you. You’re my little sister.”
“Eli’s your little brother, but you don’t poke your nose into every aspect of his life. It’s only me you insist on being so patronizing toward.”
“Roni, I’m not—”
“No, enough, I’m sick of having the same conversation over and over.” She understood that it was natural for her mother and older brother to be protective, considering they were both very dominant wolves. But, dammit, she was a very dominant wolf too. Would they always look at her and see nothing but a frightened twelve-year-old? Maybe she was partly at fault, since she’d never really taken them to task over their behavior. But how could she, when she owed them so much? The whole situation sucked big-time.
When she was lying in bed alone watching a movie a few hours later, she received a message on her cell. Retrieving the phone from the bedside table, she frowned at the unfamiliar number. Opening the text, she almost smiled.
I’m horny and it’s all your fault—M
How Marcus got her number, she wasn’t sure. Probably from Taryn, she thought. Strangely finding that she wanted to answer this clear invitation to play, Roni typed:
Explain how I’m at fault
His reply was instant.
All I can think about is sliding my cock inside you
And now she was thinking about it too. A part of her wanted to keep playing—though it felt odd, she was also enjoying it—but another part of her wanted to draw back in self-preservation. Nick was right: she was resistant to charm. But as that charm was tangled with raw sexuality, the spice of danger, and an aura of power, Roni wasn’t so resistant to Marcus Fuller at all. Keeping him at a distance would be best.
Or would it? Should she just take what he offered? After all, she liked sex, and he was apparently very good at it.
The problem was that her wolf felt a little possessive of Marcus. The few times she’d seen him with his ex, Zara, her wolf had wanted to rip the bitch apart. The animal also strongly disliked Trick, since he and Marcus had occasionally shook the sheets in the past. To take what Marcus offered could make that possessiveness worse. As such, Roni wasn’t sure what to do. In any case, playing like this wouldn’t cause any real harm. Right?
Shrugging aside her mixed thoughts, she finally typed:
So take a cold shower and stop bothering me
Within seconds, he responded:
You text slow!
Rather than explaining her little moment of uncertainty, she decided to type something a little wicked instead. Hey, if she were going to play, she’d do it right.
Sorry about that, I’m texting one-handed. The other hand is a little . . . pre-occupied
The phone immediately started ringing, and she couldn’t help laughing aloud. Swallowing back the sound, Roni answered, “Yes?”
He didn’t even bother with a hello. “And what exactly is that hand doing?”
She cleared her throat, trying to hide the smile from her voice. “Nothing. It’s just . . . busy right now. Can you call back later?”
He groaned. “This is cruel, sweetheart. I’m hard as a fucking rock here.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You never have to do anything. I think about you, and I’m hard. It’s that basic.” His voice dropped an octave as he added, “I was working at Dante’s desk earlier, and all I could think about was slamming you on top of it and fucking you raw.” Damn, that voice was like liquid seduction. And it was certainly doing its job. “Now . . . at the risk of sounding clichéd, what are you wearing?”
She rolled her eyes. “Guess.”
“Hmmm. Boy shorts and a tank top.”
Her body jackknifed into an upright position. “Where the fuck are you?” Was the little shit spying on her?
He was now laughing hysterically. “In my bed, wishing you were with me.”
“Then how do you know what I’m wearing?”
“I know you. But I won’t know all of you unless you share a little more, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”
“Since when are guys so interested in a girl’s personality?”
“Knowledge is power, my pretty little wolf. And I need every bit of help I can get if I’m going to make myself a part of your little circle. Now, I’m going to let you get some sleep while I take a cold shower. Dream of me.”