Fur Factor (8 page)

The hot, salted water began to work its magic on her, easing her sore muscles and soothing the raw feeling between her legs. Too bad it couldn’t sooth the raw feelings of confusion and fear and doubt that lurked under her blustering declarations. She draped her hair over the back of the tub to keep it dry and let her head rest against the cool, enameled iron. Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord, and she stifled a yawn. With the adrenaline of the evening fading from her system, Missy began to realize just how short her nap in Graham’s bed had really been. She felt like she could sleep for a week, but she didn’t want to miss a second of her fantasy fulfilled. God, what wouldn’t she give if this one encounter really could go on forever? She couldn’t imagine anything more heavenly than to have Graham so enamored of her that he never stopped touching her. All the sexual exertion might kill her, but boy, would she enjoy the trip.

When he picked up her feet and began to massage the arches with firm pressure, she sighed in pleasure.

“You’re welcome to do that for the rest of my life,” she murmured and drifted into that cloudy, peaceful state between sleeping and waking where the sound of the lapping water and their quiet breathing faded into a soothing metronome in the back of her mind. She felt like she just
might
sleep for a week.

Or at least until the water began to cool.

“I’d be happy to do it for the rest of our lives,” Graham murmured, his voice distinct and warm and rumbling through her sleepy state. “So why don’t you make it easy for me and move in with me.”

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Graham wasn’t quite sure where the words came from, but once they were out, he realized how good they sounded to him.

“Very

funny.”

She stiffened, and he felt his own muscles echo the posture, but the way she failed to open her eyes or even lift her head from the back of the tub gave him the impression she might not be taking him all that seriously. He tried again. “Move in with me,” he said. “I’ll give you regular foot rubs, pick up all my own socks, and I promise you all the sex you can handle.”

He watched her eyes open and fix on him. Their warm, brown color looked soft and a little bit hurt. She stared at him for a long minute before she spoke. “It’s not nice to tease a woman while you’re rubbing her feet. We’re too vulnerable. Be serious, okay?”

“Didn’t I sound serious?”

“No man sounds serious when he asks a woman to move in with him on their first date.”

“Technically, this wasn’t a date. For it to be a date, we’d have to go out somewhere and do something other than have mind-blowing sex.” She blushed at that, and he found the bright rise of color beneath her pale skin to be charming. Infinitely more charming than the way she started to shake her head.

“If you were serious, then you’re also insane.” She pulled her feet from his lap and started to sit up straighter until the movement brought her breasts above the water line. She quickly sank deeper and pulled her knees to her chest and out of his reach. The expression she wore now looked upset and a little sad. “I really wish you hadn’t shattered my illusions quite so soon. I should be going. Can I have a towel please?”

“No.”

She looked over at him, her eyebrows lifted high and her eyes wide and startled.

“No?”

“No, you can’t have a towel. If I give you one, you’ll dry off and go home, and I’m not ready to let you leave yet.”

“Haven’t we already been through this once?” She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “You really can’t keep me here.” His instincts urged him to demonstrate to her how wrong she really was about that, but he beat them into submission. If he wanted this woman to be at ease with him, he’d have to go slowly. He was learning she wasn’t quite as delicate as she looked, but Christine Warren

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he knew he could still spook her if he wasn’t careful. He thought limiting himself to asking her to move in with him, rather than informing her that she would marry him and bear his pups, like he wanted to do, was pretty restrained. But apparently the situation called for even greater delicacy. He hoped he would be able to manage it.

“I have no intention of holding you prisoner,” he said, even as he squashed those very impulses. “But let’s be logical about this. What do you plan to do when you leave here?”

“I’ll go home.”

“To the naked stranger sitting on your sofa?” He remembered the parts of her phone conversation he’d overheard. He had to clench his jaw to keep from expressing exactly how he felt about any man other than him being in Missy’s apartment, let alone being naked and lying in wait for her. “You didn’t sound very happy about that idea earlier. Have you changed your mind?”

He saw the impact of his reminder in the brief droop of her shoulders before she squared them again and lifted her little chin defiantly.

“I can go to a friend’s house,” she said.

“You mean to one of the people who got you into this situation? The ones you were running from last night when you bumped into me?” He almost regretted pointing that out when he saw her chin sink and her expression fall into regretful lines, but he had goals to remember. Everything he was doing would be for the best in the end, for him and for his mate. “Is that really what you want to do?” He heard her sigh, saw her shrug. “There isn’t much else I can do. Except maybe call the police, and I don’t want the poor man arrested. I just want him out of my apartment.”

“You can stay here.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “Wait, calm down. If you think I’m insane for wanting you to move in, fine. Don’t move in. Just spend the weekend. Once it’s safe and whatshisname is gone, you can go back to your apartment, and I’ll wait until after we’ve had a few real dates before I ask you again.” In reality, he had no intention of ever asking her to move in with him again. Next time, he’d just tell her. Less room for argument that way. He saw her start to waiver and pressed his case.

“It’s just a couple of days. You can be home in time for work on Monday morning.”

“I don’t have to work on Monday,” she murmured, chewing on her lower lip until he wanted to sink his own teeth into the pink flesh. “Next week is spring break.” He filed away that useful tidbit and pressed when he saw her debating herself.

“That’s even better. In case the loser doesn’t clear out until he goes to work Monday. It gives you a buffer. Besides, you didn’t tell Ava where you were, did you?” She shook her head. “How did you know I was talking to Ava?”

“None of your other friends are that intimidating,” he said. “So if you didn’t tell her where to find you, you’re safe. I’m sure they’d never think to look here, right? Why not Christine Warren

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take advantage of that? You get to keep them out of your hair for two whole days.

Doesn’t that sound pretty good?”

She tapped one slender finger against her shoulder while she thought, and he tried to focus on that instead of on her luscious mouth. It didn’t cool him off any, but he did manage to stay on his end of the tub.

“Won’t my being here mess up your plans for the weekend?” He tried not to grin triumphantly. “I don’t have any plans for the weekend. You wouldn’t be messing up a thing,” he assured her.

She pursed her lips. “And where exactly would I sleep?”

“Was the bed not comfortable?”

She eyed him with an odd expression, and Graham couldn’t tell if she was offended or intrigued or disgusted or overcome with lust. This was why humans should have tails. Or at least bigger ears. They made reading expressions so much easier.

“You could be a gentleman and offer me your guest room,” she finally said, watching him intently.

“I’m not that much of a gentleman,” he said, flashing her a grin. “Besides, how am I supposed to convince you to move in with me after this if I don’t get you to indulge in more incredible sex?” She blushed, which he found adorable, and he fought to keep from drooling. He doubted she would appreciate the Lupine compliment.

“You really want me to go back to bed with you?”

“Right now, if you’re willing.”

She shook her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “There’s no reason for you to act like this. You could have any woman you wanted just by giving her one of those killer smiles of yours. Why should you want me? Don’t enough women give in easily for you?”

He couldn’t have stifled his grin if his life depended on it. “You’re jealous.” Missy laughed, still shaking her head. “No,” she denied, “just confused.” He saw gooseflesh on her skin and realized the water must be getting cold. He climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the cabinet. “You don’t have to worry, though, because I’m not interested in any other woman.” Ignoring the water dripping off his own skin, he wrapped the towel around Missy and rubbed the terry cloth gently against her skin. He debated telling her why he wasn’t interested in any other women, but figured his chances of keeping her in his house were a lot better if he didn’t bring up the term “mate-bond” for another day or so. He would give her time to get used to him first.

He hunkered down in front of her to dry her legs and feet. He’d bet she didn’t wear above a size six shoe; her feet were that tiny and delicate, with high arches and toes polished a blushing shade of pink almost the exact color of her skin when he pushed her into coming for him. The thought made him harden instantly, and he fought not to lean forward and bury his face in the thatch of light brown curls that shielded her sex.

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Having it so close and convenient didn’t seem to be helping his willpower any. He forced his eyes back to her feet until he could feel her gaze on the top of his head.

He looked up. “What?”

She shook her head. “I was just wondering something…” He stood and finally took pity on her, wrapping the towel around her body so she could unclamp her arms from in front of her breasts. He hoped she realized exactly what the show of chivalry cost him. “What were you wondering?” She tucked the cloth more securely around her and tucked her hair behind her ears.

She looked down at the floor and shrugged. “Why you’re acting like you’re so interested in me.”

“Probably because I am.” He thought about grabbing her hand and wrapping it around his aching cock, just to demonstrate exactly how interested he really was, but there was that whole problem with her being likely to run from him, screaming.

“Yeah, right.”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I have a little trouble believing that I’m all of a sudden irresistible,” she said, her chin lifting again to meet his eyes with her own. The way she could turn from bashful flower to rebellious firebrand fascinated him. “You’ve known me for six weeks and tonight is the first time you’ve looked at me like I was more than an extension of the wallpaper.”

“I’ve obviously been a moron,” he countered, enjoying the way her brown eyes had gone warm and sparking at him. “What else were you expecting? I’m a man. We’re morons by birth.”

“Some of you are more moronic than others,” she agreed. “But I’d really prefer it if you didn’t act as if you’ve suddenly realized that I’m utterly gorgeous and sexy and everything a man has ever dreamed of.”

“But you are.”

She shook her head and her expression took on a hint of anger. “Just because I teach kindergarten does not make me a simpleton. Don’t lie to me, please.” The way her skin flushed and her breasts rose and fell with her angry breathing made his beast sit up and howl. Her indignation turned her scent sharper, more bitter, more heavily spiced. He wanted to lick the pique from her skin until it turned to lust, and then he wanted to lick it from between her thighs until it turned to satiation.

“I’m not lying,” he said, forcing himself to concentrate on the conversation. “I really am a moron, and I really do think you’re utterly gorgeous and sexy. Didn’t you figure that out when you had me so hard and hot that I devolved into a monosyllabic cretin just because I couldn’t wait to get inside you?” He shook his head. “That’s not the kind of thing I can fake.”

“From what I understand, you don’t have to fake a thing,” she snapped. “You’ve got quite a reputation, Graham. I hear there’s not more than a handful of women you’ve Christine Warren

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ever met that you haven’t ended up in bed with. So forgive me if I don’t think it’s an accomplishment that I gave you an erection.”

An unexpected spear of hurt coursed through him. He had enjoyed every single one of the women he’d taken and had no reason to regret a single one, but somehow his mate made him want to wash away his past. He raked a hand through his hair and frowned.

“You’re making it sound like I only wanted you because you were there. Like I would have just as soon had someone else.”

“Exactly.”

Frustration made him want to howl. It succeeded in making him pace. “It’s not like that,” he growled, trying to think of a way to make her understand his need without terrifying her so badly she’d run. “I want
you
, Missy, not just another female body.”

“Yeah,

right.”

“I mean it. I’ve had plenty of female bodies. You were right about that,” he admitted, and had to grit his teeth against the hurt he saw flicker in her eyes. “But that means I know the difference between them and you. I don’t want another woman. I didn’t invite another woman to spend the weekend with me.” He saw her shake her head and strode back to her side, grasping her by the arms and forcing her to meet his gaze. He needed to impress her with the truth, and he hoped she’d be able to read it in his face. “I didn’t invite another woman to move in with me. I’ve never invited a woman to do that. Just you.”

“But that’s what I don’t get,” she whispered, her eyes wide and confused as she gazed up at him. “Tonight is the first time you’ve ever spoken more than five words to me, and all of a sudden you’re crazy about me? That doesn’t make any sense.” For the first time in his life, Graham regretted being a werewolf. If he’d been a vampire like Dmitri, he could read her thoughts to figure out exactly how to reassure her, but instead he floundered for a way to make her trust him without also making her see him as an even weirder creature than she already did.