Part 8 (1/2)
Her heart skipped a beat when he flashed that sly, smarta.s.s grin at her, the one that gave her b.u.t.terflies in her stomach and regions lower. d.a.m.n, he was beautiful. With the hair, and the eyes, and the dimples and the grin and the body, she knew he must have women swarming all over him in Houston. She swallowed hard, dismayed at the sudden stab of pain somewhere near her heart.
”I'm not jogging-I'm running. On four feet. I didn't get to do much of it in Luxor.”
”Oh!” She blushed, feeling incredibly stupid, but he just stood there rubbing a strand of her hair between his fingers and smiling at her. ”Um...what did you do in Luxor? About, uh-”
”s.h.i.+fting. Getting furry, going four-footed.”
”Okay, yeah. Don't you have to do it regularly?”
He came to stand in front of her barstool, and she had to tilt her head back to look at him. Acutely conscious of his bare chest inches away, she kept her hands wrapped around her coffee mug so he wouldn't see them shaking. G.o.d, he smelled good.
He skimmed his thumb across her cheek. Her heart skipped another five or six beats.
”No. Every wolf's different. I'm an alpha, so I don't have to s.h.i.+ft as often as betas do. In Luxor I s.h.i.+fted about a dozen times, but only for a few hours.”
”Weren't you worried about being seen?”
”Not really. Sneaking around places I didn't belong was my job in the Corps. I'm pretty good at it.”
”Oh.”
Right as another one of those uncomfortable silences started forming, he said, ”Okay, I'm gonna go. The guys are expecting me and it's a long drive. Don't be nervous about meeting TJ.”
”I'm not nervous.”
”Yes you are. I can smell your fear.” His hand tightened on her neck, keeping her head tilted up to him as his thumb stroked her cheek. He sure didn't seem in a hurry to go. ”I can smell everything on you,” he added huskily.
Her heels were resting on the rung of the barstool. He pushed her knee away so he could stand between her legs, cupping her head in both hands now.
She flashed back to two nights ago, when she was ready to jump his bones right there on her couch.
Oh, dear Lord. Could he really smell everything on her? Because right now she was so turned on...
He leaned down and ran his tongue feather-light across her bottom lip. She couldn't repress a s.h.i.+ver, and she knew by the way he smiled that he'd felt it. Ever so gently, he nipped at her bottom lip and licked it again. She parted her mouth wider and his tongue dipped in to meet hers.
She didn't even know she was touching him until he growled softly, low in his throat, and then her hand registered the hard muscles of his back, the heat of his skin beneath her palms. The kiss deepened, his tongue warm and insistent in her mouth. ”d.a.m.n.” He nibbled at her lips as he spoke, as if he couldn't stop, and the thought made her giddy. ”Every time I start kissing you, I just want to keep kissing you. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do when I see you again.” He brushed a last, swift kiss across her forehead and grabbed his keys.
”Have fun with TJ. I'll call you later.”
By the time she got her voice back, he was out the door.
The doorbell rang as while she was reading the Chronicle online. She walked down the two flights of stairs, her stomach in knots, and opened the door.
”Hi. I'm TJ. Ever seen one of these?” The short, buxom redhead held up a black credit card.
Sara blinked in surprise. Then she gasped.
TJ grinned. ”This is Nick Wargman's black Amex. Ever heard of a place called the Galleria?”
She nodded, dumbstruck.
”Good. Saleswomen will treat you like dirt because you're in jeans and tennis shoes and a scratchy T-s.h.i.+rt and pretty as a fairy princess. I'll wave this card like a magic wand and watch them start kissing your a.s.s. This is gonna be fun. I'm warning you, though, some of them will a.s.sume you're f.u.c.king Nick. Get your purse. Oh, do you drink?”
”Um, yes.”
”Thank G.o.d. I need a margarita.”
Chapter Six.
The Pack had several acres on the other side of Katy, about an hour and a half from Houston. Nick Wargman's late and unlamented father, the previous Alpha, had purchased it back in the sixties. It had a big house where the Pack held formal meetings and family gatherings throughout the year, and several smaller bunkhouses with beds and bathrooms.
After an exhausting, exhilarating four-hour run, Bryan felt better than he had in two months. He even felt a little less stressed about Sara. She wasn't the clingy type-she didn't seem to be measuring for drapes or anything. He still wanted to see her-and touch her, and taste her-and after the kiss this morning, he thought she felt the same way. Maybe they could reset the relations.h.i.+p to something more than casual but less than committed and see what happened from there.
Once he'd showered and changed, he called her. Her phone went straight to voicemail. He left a message, feeling slightly silly-there was no reason for him to keep tabs on her.
He called her again when he hit Houston, and then a third time as he was running around town. The fourth time he failed to reach her, he hit end before voicemail kicked in.
Where the h.e.l.l was she? TJ Turner could easily shop for six hours, but Sara didn't seem the type.
He got home to find that a shopping mall had thrown up in his living room. Judging by the names on the bags and boxes spilling off the sofa, he guessed it was the Galleria. Still no sign of Sara, though.
”Holy s.h.i.+t, angel,” he muttered. ”Did you leave anything in the Tupperware?”
On cue, his cell rang.
”TJ?”
”No, it's me!” Sara sounded very happy. So did a lot of people in the background.
”Are you at Cowgirls?”
”Yes! How'd you know?”
”Because I hang out there a lot. I guess TJ's with you?”
”Yeah! We dropped off the loot at your place and then came here. This place is unbelievable! One of the managers said they're hiring, and he thinks I'd fit in great!”
All the bartenders at Cowgirls and Werewolves were hot young werewolves, and all the waitresses were hot young females. They brought in the guys, both wolves and men, while the werewolves brought in the females. Bryan was oddly unenthusiastic about the idea of Sara getting hit on all the time.
”I've been trying to call you all day. Don't you have your phone with you?”
”Yeah, but it's out of juice. Piece of c.r.a.p can't hold a charge.” She was quiet for a minute. ”So...you wanna join us?”
”Sure. I have to stop somewhere first. See you in a few.”
”He says he has to make one stop and then he'll be up here.”