Read The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) Online

Authors: Kristin Miller

Tags: #Entangled, #fashion, #PNR, #romance, #Kristin Miller, #San Francisco Wolfpack, #paranormal, #The Werewolf Wears Prada, #Werewolves, #Covet

The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) (12 page)

BOOK: The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack)
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Future headlines shifted and melted together in her head:
From Comedian to Creative Genius…Hayden Dean’s Werewolf Tales.

She’d been searching for something different. A new slant to recreate his image. Who knew he’d have this kind of depth? Changing the public’s perception of him might’ve been easier than she thought.

“So because I was bitten twice,” she said, going along with the tale, “I’ll be able to shift into a wolf at the full moon?”

“That’s right. You were bitten on two pulse points, which kick-starts transition. One bite and you would’ve died. Two bites on the same pulse point, and you would’ve met the same fate. The wolf who attacked you bit your carotid artery, and I bit your radial.” He paused. “Melina, are you sure you’re okay?” His hand found hers. “Do you feel faint? Tired? Insanely hungry? That’s what you should be feeling right now.”

Seconds ago, she
had
felt faint and tired and hungry, but the moment his hand touched hers, everything disappeared. The confusion, the humor in his tale, and the wall she’d put up to defend herself against his charm evaporated with his touch.

His hand enveloped hers in a warm, comforting grip, yet there was raw, scorching heat in his palm. She shuddered long and deep, relishing the sizzle and desire flooding her middle. Hayden took back his hand, though the heat remained in her chest.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing his thumb in circles over his palm. “I guess that was a bit much. We can dive into that later.”

“Dive into what, exactly?”

“Our connection.”

Now they were getting somewhere.

Maybe this was how Hayden sweet-talked all the women in his little black book—not that she’d ever seen it. He was into role-playing…sexual fantasies about werewolves, to be specific.

Intriguing.

Under normal circumstances, she might’ve told Hayden to go fetch a bone and find another woman to play his little game. But nothing about the way her body was reacting to Hayden or his fantasy was normal. Her thighs quivered, her mouth watered, and her toes curled from the dirty thoughts saturating her mind.

She’d do anything to satiate the ravenous craving in her middle.

“Our
connection
…I like the sound of that.” She leaned over the table, and couldn’t help but brush her thighs together. She trembled deep inside, right down to the bone. If she wasn’t mistaken, he shuddered, too. “Tell me more.”

His Adam’s apple jumped and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re handling this as if you’ve been prepped for it your entire life. But we need to slow down.” He opened the window next to the table and sat back in the chair as a cool draft of ocean breeze swept into the kitchen. “Your senses will be heightened during transition. Your system should fluctuate between hot and cold on a whim. You’ll have insatiable hunger for, well, everything, for at least a month. Sex, food, and violence, specifically. You’ll want it all. And you’ll have it.”

As he stretched his arms behind his head and leaned the chair on its two back legs, an image popped into her mind. Hayden in the chair, the way he was now. Her legs straddling his lap. Her tank top pulled down beneath her breasts. The breeze in her hair, cooling their bodies as they pounded against one another.

Did Hayden kick up the thermostat?

“Are you offering?” she asked, nearly panting the words.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sex. Are you in or out?” She purred. “Please say both.”

“Good God.” His pupils widened. “You’re a vixen.”

Oh yeah, she had him right where she wanted him.

He could pretend to be a werewolf, vampire, ghost, witch, or the freaking Dalai Lama, if that’s what rocked his socks. All that mattered was getting up close and personal with the sex god on the other side of the table.

Flames of lust licked through Melina’s body, from the juncture between her legs to the crease in her breasts. She squirmed in her seat, going damp as her gaze honed on Hayden’s supple mouth.

If she didn’t kiss him, she’d burst through her skin.

The lights in the kitchen dimmed, the sounds of the ocean quieted, and the sugary-sweet smell of the pancakes dwindled. Suddenly and unexplainably, Melina picked up the chestnut highlights streaking through Hayden’s hair. His heart thumped in his chest, wild and hurried, and the smell of his aftershave, fresh and crisp, hit her nose.

Every nerve seemed heightened. Frayed and jittery. She’d never done drugs, but she’d bought Chanel at auction, and thought at the time, that the occasion probably came close to getting high. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

Nothing.

She was so in tune with him, paired to his frequency, linked to his every intake and exhale of breath. She wanted that mouth on her, sliding up her body, his tongue darting in and out of her warmth.

“Melina, you have to calm down,” Hayden said, breathing hard. “I can feel what’s going on inside you right now and I’m barely holding on to a thread here myself. Believe me, there’s nothing I want more than to give you what you need, but with the connection between us, we have to be careful not to—”

A shockwave of delicious ecstasy rocked Melina out of her seat, cutting his words short. All that mattered was the insatiable need clawing at her insides and the desire to lick his rock-hard body until her mouth went numb. She had to touch him and feel the pressure of his body over hers.

She’d never been this hot over a guy. Not ever.

If he wanted a werewolf fantasy, she’d give it to him.

Bow-chica.

Bow-wow.

Chapter Eighteen

Easy. Take it slow.

He’d meant to say the words, he really had. Really.

But the words “easy” and “slow” disappeared from his vocab. He’d been holding back from her since they arrived here last night, since he had to strip the blood-stained peacock dress from her glorious body. He hadn’t peeked. Other than what was necessary to dress her, of course. She was officially the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in booty shorts and a shimmery top.

It was a miracle and true testament to his willpower that he’d stayed away from her this long.

As she rounded the corner of the table, he could
feel
her desire—it fed his own. The scent of her arousal, fragrant and sweet, beckoned him closer. He wanted Melina like he’d never wanted anyone before.

He caught her in his arms and pulled her over his lap
. Finally.
He groaned as their lips met, and her arms flew around his neck. The kiss was fierce and wild, awakening his hunger to claim her as his own. As her tongue shot past his lips, every muscle in his body went on edge. He pulled her against him, closer, couldn’t be close enough. She clung to his shoulders and tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you,” she said, flicking her tongue out over his lips. “But what I feel for you now is beyond want. It’s
thirst
—no that’s not it either.” She swirled her hips over his lap, searching out her own pleasure. “It’s starvation. I feel like I’ll die if I don’t get you inside me.”

Holy shit.

His cock twitched under his shorts, giving its own eager response. Hayden knew Melina would be crazed with need—newly transitioned werewolves usually were—but this was beyond his wildest fantasy. Hearing the naughty words escape those succulent lips nearly did him in. And he hadn’t even touched her flesh to flesh.

Yet.

She opened her mouth to say more, but he swallowed her words with a crushing kiss. He had to taste, consume, and pleasure her until she was dizzy and exhausted. Her shirt crept up. He grasped the bottom and fisted the springy material.

“Get it off,” she breathed.

Gone were the issues awaiting them on the horizon—the problems with the rogues could wait. All that mattered was getting her clothes off and burying himself deep, so deep, inside her.

With a swipe of his arm, the breakfast spread crashed to the floor. Dishes and mugs scattered over the tile, making a mess he didn’t give a rip about. Frantic with his own rising lust, he gripped Melina by the waist and lifted her onto the table. She clawed at his shoulders, lunged for his mouth, and moaned when their lips collided. Jerking her to the very edge of the table, he skated a greedy hand up her thigh and used it to coil her legs around his waist.

He devoured her, sweeping his tongue along hers with fevered strokes, as he peeled her shirt from her body. Her breasts were a staggering vision. Tight and round with pink temples he longed to tease with his tongue. He wanted to skate his hands over her body, study every soft curve and every delicious flavor on her skin.

As lust stirred in his belly, Hayden stripped out of his sweatshirt, his T-shirt, and then had the realization he’d recently finished a five-mile run. He should shower, clean up, and dab on some aftershave or cologne. He should pull back the sheets on the bed, light some candles, and turn on some mood music. At least that’s what he usually did. Wasn’t that the image of romance every woman had painted in her mind?

“I should clean up,” he said, pulling back. “Give me five.”

“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, her hands sliding up and down his bare back. Her eyes hazed with lust. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“But—”

It was all he got out before she snatched his hand and shoved it down the rim of her shorts. A moan erupted from his throat, low and raspy, as he plunged his fingers through her heat. He claimed her mouth, worked her sensitive flesh, and groaned as she began to tremble.

She was so hot and wet, and he was already so close to his own release.

“Hayden,” she rasped, rolling her body over the table and writhing against him. “I’m going to—oh my God!”

He rubbed her clit, teasing the orgasm out of her. She bucked and gasped, her breasts rising and falling as ecstasy danced its way through her. When she stilled, her lips parting in supple invitation, Hayden kissed her open-mouthed and unhurried. Languid strokes of his tongue against her cheek had her mewling for more.

He caressed her breasts, and cradled them in his hands. Drawing the right one into his mouth, he teased her nipple with his tongue. She arched back in pleasure, digging her hands into his hair. When he moved to the left creamy breast—had to be even in his attention—she clutched at his hair and yanked his head back.

“Just so you know,” she said, nipping at his bottom lip, “this is off the record. None of this”—grinning, she raked her hands down his chest and left a scorching trail behind—“is going in the article.”

“That’s too bad.” He rubbed his hand along her inner thigh. “This is going to be quite the spread.”

He palmed her stomach and gently pushed her back onto the table, and then splayed her legs wider.

“Wha—ooh…”

Kneeling, he stripped her shorts from her lean legs. She was soft and silky smooth—he’d always been a leg man—clean-shaven and tidy. Her knees met, and her thighs brushed together.

“Oh no,” he said, lifting her rear off the table with both hands. “I won’t let you pretend to be modest. Not now.” He licked a slow, dragging line up her center. “We’re beyond that.”

Her legs dropped open with a shudder, and her head hit the table. Slowly, he spread her slit and dove into her wetness. Once he tasted her, he couldn’t stop. He kissed her open-mouthed, savoring her tart sweetness. He plunged his tongue into her heat. Kneaded the tight flesh of her rear. Devoured her arousal and stoked his own. And when she tightened, crying out his name, Hayden swirled his tongue around her pleasure spot, drawing the orgasm out of her.

Staring at the ceiling, Melina hit her head with her hand. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Does that mean you want me to stop?”

“Hell no.” She sat up, cheeks flushed, desire still lingering in her honey-brown eyes. “Do you have a condom?”

“No, but werewolves don’t carry diseases.” From the ground, he had the perfect view of her dainty figure. She was the perfect mix of lean and soft, strong lines and graceful beauty. Studying her, Hayden’s hands skimmed up the dainty curve of her waist. There was no telling how many times he’d get to see her this way. Not many—he was sure of that. “And werewolves can’t get pregnant unless they’re in heat.” He rubbed his thumb over her nipple, eliciting a moan that spoke to him on the deepest level. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Back to the wolf thing, huh?” She raked her fingers through his hair. “That’s fine, but if you don’t put a muzzle on your dog, he’s not coming out of the doghouse. And believe me when I say, I really”—she leaned over and stroked him outside of his shorts, ripping a hiss from the back of his throat—“
really
want him to come out and play.”

Laughter ripped through his chest. She was comparing him to a dog. “You’re downright irresistible. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Yes.” She kinked her head to the side. “Still, no muzzle, no bone. I have a few condoms in my purse, if you can’t find one here somewhere.”

If she had condoms with her, that meant she’d taken one to the charity event. She’d been hoping to get lucky, apparently.

But she hadn’t gone with him; she’d gone with Gabriel.

The realization rumbled through him like thunder.

As if she read his mind, Melina roped her arms around his neck. “I always carry them,” she said, “for unexpected times like these. You can never be too safe, right?”

Possessiveness shook Hayden to the core. Rising to his feet, he hauled her against him and planted a scorching kiss on her mouth. He tried to communicate with the most intimate part of her, to say the things he couldn’t speak aloud. He wanted only her, and he wanted to be the only one she wanted, too.

The thought scared the shit out of him, but there it was. He didn’t want to complete the Luminary bond with her—that would require a promise of forever while they were making love. He definitely didn’t want that.

He simply wanted
her.
Right here. Right now.

It was all he could think about.

“Wow,” she said, when they came up for air. She breathed heavily and rested her forehead on his. “I’m dizzy.”

“Me too.”

“I’ve never had two orgasms in a row,” she said, plunging her tongue past his lips. “You truly are amazing. But you’ve probably heard that before.”

“Not from you.” His lips quirked. “If you let me, I’ll take you there again.”

“I think my legs will turn to jelly.” She stroked his bare chest, grinned, and then shrugged. “I don’t need to walk for the next day or so anyway.”

Glad she had her priorities straight.

She smacked him in the backside playfully. “Now how about that muzzle?”

Not wasting any more time, Hayden strode into the living room, pulled her purse from beside the couch and brought it to her. As she dug around for protection, a cool breeze swept through the kitchen windows and blew through Melina’s hair. The fragrant scent of her arousal invaded his senses. It was a mixture of sugar and warm spice, an enticing scent that had him salivating to taste her again, and again.

Yanking down his shorts, he stepped out of them and stood before her. Her gaze dipped to his manhood. She gulped.

“The rumors were true,” she whispered.

“Rumors?”

“Tabloids and online gossip articles. I still don’t know which ones to believe.” She licked her lips and wiggled off the table. “I assume all werewolves are well endowed?”

Both his dick and his ego swelled with pride. “I can’t speak for all the werewolves in the city, but I’d like to think I’m one of a kind.”

Blush tinged her cheeks as she shoved a foil wrapper into his hand.

As he rolled on the condom, she slowly traipsed around him, ghosting her fingers over his shoulders, his back. “What do werewolves like?” she asked, moving around to his abs. “I might need direction.”

He nearly laughed. “Believe me, you won’t need any help. I’m barely hanging on to a thread of control here, and we haven’t even started.”

Her lips curled into a devious grin. “Is that so?”

He’d issued a challenge, and suddenly felt the reins pass hands.

She pushed him back against the granite island and assaulted him with her mouth. Ghosted her hands over the grooves of his abs. Nipped at his shoulder and reached low to stroke his thick length. The instant her hand touched his cock, he hissed. Every muscle in his body tightened into a fist.

She was everywhere. Her scent in the air. Her breasts brushing against his chest. Her hand stroking him closer to climax. He could still taste her on his lips.

Wiggling out of his arms, she backed away, spun, and bent over the table. She gave a little shake and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Is this what wolves want?” The innocence in her voice made his toes curl. “Come and get it.”

He bit into his bottom lip so hard, he drew blood. He growled, and the wolf in him howled to slip into her heat from behind.

In a flurry of movement, he snatched her around the waist, and twirled her around. She cried out in shock, grinning as he pinned her to the wall.

“I want to see you when you come,” he said, sliding his hand between her legs.

She stamped a white-hot kiss on his mouth, and melted into him. Arms wrapped around his back, she propped her foot up on a rung of the nearest stool and rocked her hips upward.

Damn, he loved the way her mind worked.

As gently as he could, he eased inside her. Their lips parted and he met her eyes. They were heavy-lidded and dreamy, shimmering with the promise of sweet release. His spine tingled. His balls seized. He claimed her, crying out as their hips met. She clutched at him, holding onto his shoulders to pound against him. She was tighter and hotter than he’d expected. Flawless and scorching.

Mine.

The urge to claim her sparked in his gut. He bit it back and plunged into her slick wetness. He pounded against her hips, right up to the hilt. She cried out over and over again—music to his ears. She slid along the wall, her mouth falling open, her gaze caught on his.

Could she see his desire to bond with her? To claim her as his own?

He pinched his eyes shut and thrust harder. Angled her hips up and dove deep. Her core pulsed around him, minute vibrations that milked his shaft to the very brink. Their rhythm sped.

Mine.

“Oh, Hayden,” she moaned, her voice faint. “Faster.”

His name on her lips fueled the frenzy. Delicious want snaked through him. Explosive surges of heat scorched the skin over his bones. He needed to slow down, to focus, to make sure this lasted in case it was the only time they’d get to do this. He wanted to savor this, and treasure her. But as she rocked against him, speeding the pace, he clenched. Grasped her rear. Thrust his tongue into her mouth. And when she erupted beneath him, writhing in the grips of passion, he held her tight, supporting her weight. Starbursts went off behind his eyes. She sucked on his tongue, sending him over the edge. He emptied himself into her depths, and squeezed his eyes shut as the sensations overtook him. Over and over again, her name erupted from the depths of him. It was a cry, and then an agonizingly sweet moan. Her name faded into a whisper. A wish. A promise he couldn’t keep.

Melina.

They hadn’t completed the Luminary bond, but his pull to her was tangible. He wanted to claim her so badly, he physically hurt. He couldn’t remove himself from her center…he’d be empty and incomplete. He didn’t even have to test the theory. He knew the truth as he knew himself.

Fear coiled around his heart, and gripped tight.

If he felt this way now, their connection would only increase as time passed.

If something happened to Melina, which it inevitably would as an Alpha’s mate, he’d be devastated. Ruined. He’d be like his father, a shell of what he used to be.

BOOK: The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack)
7.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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