Was she disappointed he hadn’t said he loved her? That would be fickle and unfair since she wasn’t sure of her own feelings. It was difficult to sort through them, to assess the changes and figure out if they were real or wishful thinking.

  Not that he seemed to be suffering from the same problem.

  He slipped his hand under her shirt, resting it on her stomach. The muscles contracted. “Whatever we do is up to you.” The tip of his index finger traced circles over her skin.

  This was her opportunity to discover the truth. “You won’t mate me.”

  His eyes darkened and he shook his head, but then qualified, “Not this time. I make no promises for the future.”

  That was good enough for her. When she sat up, he withdrew his hand, giving her space. Keeping eye contact, she drew her T-shirt over her head. His pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. Instead of feeling ill at ease, a glorious sense of freedom filled her.

  Getting into the whole striptease, she unhooked her bra and slipped the straps down her arms. The sound he made was part longing, part pain.

  “You are stunning.” Her breasts were average, but the way he was licking his lips made her a believer.

  Before she got cold feet, she shucked her socks and jeans, leaving her underwear. Call her a coward, but she wasn’t willing to take that final step. When she lay back, he moved over her, bracing his weight on his forearms.

  “Amy.” That was all he said before he captured her lips.

  The heat was familiar now and welcome. Twining her arms around his neck, she returned the kiss, stroking his tongue, welcoming the weight of his lower body against hers. The fabric of his jeans was a rough caress against her bare thighs. The hard length of his erection pressed against her core. She raised her legs, wrapping them around his flanks.

  With a growl, he nipped at her throat. He didn’t break the skin, but her heart jumped, pulse racing.

  “Relax. I promised you no mating.”

  Trusting him more than she’d ever trusted any other man, she gave herself over to the pleasure. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to touch. She’d been fantasizing about him for weeks.

  His shoulders were huge, his chest heavily muscled, but he was not overly bulky. He had the build of a wolf, not a male who frequented a gym. Her fingers didn’t come anywhere near to wrapping around his biceps. His pectoral muscles were hard and well-defined, his abs like corrugated steel covered in velvet.

  She practically purred as she explored.

  Etienne groaned, caught her hands in one of his, and raised them over her head. “You keep that up and I’m going to come.” The graphic admission made her feel powerful and womanly. His eyes narrowed. “Like that, do you?”

  “Very much.” Since he would see and smell the changes in her body, there was no point in lying. And she didn’t want to. She wanted only honesty between them.

  His lips twitched. “Maybe I’ll give you a turn another day, but this time is mine.” He kissed a path down her neck and across her collarbone. Her nipples were painfully hard. She tried to arch up to rub them against his chest, but he lifted away. When she frowned, his smile widened. “You’ll like my way better,” he promised.

  He rubbed his head against her chest, his silky hair caressing her skin, his cheek stroking the curves of her breasts. The devil was marking her with his scent. Not that she cared. No, she wanted more. Grabbing his hair, she dragged him to one of her breasts.

  His laugh made her core clench. Then she jumped when he latched onto her straining nipple and sucked hard.

  “Yes!” she hissed. Her toes curled and she thumped her feet lightly against the mattress. His talented tongue flicked the tip, shooting rockets of desire through her.

  After feasting on one side, he moved to the other. Her hips arched. She needed more. Her skin was on fire and sensitive to the slightest touch.

  “Etienne.” He froze and his big body shuddered.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “What? No. Don’t you dare.” She might get violent if he did. The tension inside her was boiling to a fevered pitch. All she needed was something to push her over the edge.

  His hand skated down her stomach, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of her panties. He didn’t stop but kept going, until he was cupping her sex.

  She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Her head thrashed from side to side. Her lungs ached. Her heart was about to burst.

  “Look at me.” Unable to resist his command, she met his eyes. He wasn’t smiling now. No, his lips were compressed. His expression was one of pure determination. He pushed one thick finger inside her. She was so wet, she took him easily. Her inner muscles contracted around him.

  “Fuck me.” He added a second, stretching her. His thumb flicked over her swollen clit.

  Her orgasm exploded. She squeezed her eyes shut, her head tilting back, every muscle in her body clenched. Her core rippled, her eyes shooting open when he curved his fingers and eased them out, stimulating the sensitive spot inside her. Another wave of pleasure took her under. She momentarily lost a sense of all reality.

  When she slumped against the bed, she was boneless, floating on a sea of satisfaction.

  Etienne smiled, brought his fingers to his mouth, and sucked. “Delicious.” He tasted her, unabashedly enjoying that he’d brought her pleasure.

  She shivered and swallowed back a moan. “Thank you.”

  He licked his lips. “It was definitely my pleasure.” He rolled off the bed and tossed a corner of the sheet over her. “I have to get a shower. I won’t be long.”

  His departure was abrupt, but she understood. He was keeping his word. That meant everything to her, even if it wasn’t fair to him. His arousal had to be painful, but not once by word or deed had he suggested she give him more.

  Which, consequently, made her want to give more.

  It wouldn’t do for her to forget she was dealing with a tactical genius. But he was also a man, a very loving and giving one.

  The closed bathroom door was between them. The shower came on.

  Should she join him? She was shaking her head before she’d finished the thought. No, she’d accept the gift he’d given her. That didn’t mean she couldn’t return it at another time.

  Rolling to her side and clutching the pillow to her chest, she smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  Etienne braced his hands against the yellowing and cracked tiles and let the cold water pummel him. What he really needed was a plunge in a river in the middle of January. But since it was May, this was as close as he could get.

  He lifted one hand to his nose and sniffed. His cock jerked at the scent of Amy’s juices. Her taste lingered on his lips. With a ragged groan, he gripped his shaft and pumped. The cold water and his rough hand were nothing compared to her hot, silky depths, but it was all he had.

  No, he had more. This time as he jerked off, he didn’t need to imagine what she’d feel like, smell like, taste like. This time, he knew. Vivid images flashed through his brain—Amy with her head thrown back, her breasts with their tight red nipples pushing upward, her pussy clamping down on his fingers, the long, low cry of her pleasure.

  “Fuck.” His orgasm slammed into him. Balls drawing up tight, spurts of semen erupted from the tip of his cock, coating his hand. It seemed to go on forever, yet was over too soon and offered little relief.

  He was determined to court Amy, to woo her as she deserved. If it didn’t kill him first.

  With that in mind, he grabbed the soap and made quick work of cleaning himself. He didn’t linger, not wanting to leave her alone. The Landry brothers were still out there somewhere. It wouldn’t pay to get lax.

  When he’d dried off, he wrapped the towel around his waist rather than pull on dirty clothes. He bent down to look in the mirror and rubbed his jaw. He needed a shave and his toothbrush.

  Should have brought my bag in last night.

  Amy was still on the bed when he left the bathroom, but she was propped up against the fake wooden headboard, with the television on. Since she looked good enough to eat—and didn’t the thought of diving between her legs and feasting have him hard again—he went to the window and peeked around the curtain.

  There was no one around. A good time to retrieve his gear.

  “How about we grab some breakfast once you’ve showered.” They could go to that diner not far from here, or he could take her somewhere nicer. He’d check his phone and find some options.

  When she didn’t answer, he glanced her way. Her eyes weren’t on the television. No, they were on his ass. His dick twitched and grew, tenting the front of the towel. Didn’t matter he’d come not ten minutes before. As a werewolf, he could go for hours.

  “You gotta help me out here.” He wasn’t opposed to spending the day in bed. Hell, he’d rather do that, but that wasn’t the way to win her heart. He wasn’t looking for temporary or a quick fuck. He could get that anywhere. That wasn’t conceit on his part. Women were drawn to him and other male wolves, sensing their primal natures. This thing between him and Amy? It was special.

  Her cheeks turned pink. She rolled off the bed, keeping the sheet wrapped around her. “I won’t be long.” The bathroom door shut after she scurried inside.

  When the water came on, he tilted his head back and swallowed hard. It was easy to imagine the warm water sluicing down her long, lean body. Droplets would linger on the tips of her nipples before falling. He wanted to catch them with his tongue.

  Swallowing back a groan, he turned away. He had his bag, as well as the one Cherise had sent for Amy, and was back inside the room in under thirty seconds.

  He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and pacing when the water went off. He tortured himself by imagining her drying off. That led to him having to adjust the front of his jeans. Things were back under control, barely, when the door opened and steam rolled into the room.

  “Ah, I forgot to bring clean clothes with me.” The towels weren’t the best quality—nor were they very large, leaving a large expanse of her legs showing. The arm clutching the towel pushed her breasts up, showing more than a hint of cleavage.

  “There’s a bag there.” He pointed to the bed. “Your momma sent along some clothes, figuring you could use them.”

  Amy’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”

  “I need to shave. You can have the room.” He grabbed his shaving kit and almost sprinted to the bathroom. There wasn’t much space, so they brushed up against each other as he passed. The scent of the cheap soap mingled with her richer, natural one.

  She gave a tiny gasp but didn’t stop him. It was just as well. If he touched her, they’d end up in bed for the rest of the day.

  Not the plan.

  Chest heaving, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Control was such a natural part of his personality, he’d never really thought about being any other way. Amy was playing havoc with him.

  He’d never understood how the males in the pack lost their discipline when it came to their women.

  He was an idiot.

  The mating urge and that one special woman had the ability to destroy a man. She could also make him stronger, give him things he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

  If things didn’t work out with Amy, if she decided she didn’t want him, he’d have to leave the pack. No way could he stay and see her every day, eventually watch her mate another.

  It would kill him.

  As he shaved, making sure, even strokes with the razor, his resolve hardened. He’d never been a quitter. And he’d never wanted anything more than to belong to her, to be able to stand by her side for however long they lived.

  His job was to show her how good things could be between them.

  After lingering long enough that he was certain she’d had adequate time to dress, he joined her. She was wearing jeans and a blue tank top that hugged the curves of her breasts. Looking up from where she was tucking the bedspread on the bed, she smiled.

  “All ready?”

  “Yeah.” He tossed his shaving kit into his bag and zipped it. When she bent over to smooth out some wrinkles, the faded jeans molded to her firm ass. They had to get out of here before he snapped. “How about breakfast?”

  “Sounds good.” She tucked her phone in her back pocket and her keys in her front one. “I’m ready.”

  “Don’t you need a sweater or something?” He was being an ass but was unable to stop the train that was his mouth. “It could be cold in the restaurant.” Or other men might notice how damn good you look in that outfit.

  She tilted her head to one side. “You do remember I’m a wolf, right? I can regulate my body temperature.”

  “You’ll stand out.” That was irrefutable. And if it was chilly, her nipples might stand out. Then he’d be forced to put his hands over them to warm them. His fingers fisted by his sides.

  “Okay.” She said the word slowly, drawing out the vowels. “If it means that much to you.”

  Deciding keeping his mouth shut was his smartest move, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

  “You can leave that here.” She motioned to his bag. “I assume you’ll be coming back with me.”

  “I didn’t want to make assumptions. I can sleep in the truck if you want your space.” She’d run because she’d needed time alone. While there was no way he’d leave her, he would try to give her whatever she needed.

  She tugged on a thin sweater a shade darker than her top. Instead of buttoning it, she left it open. It framed her breasts instead of covering them. Did she realize she was torturing him? Her guileless expression said no.

  “We can figure things out as we go.”

  Good enough. He dropped the bag and held the door open.

  She bit her bottom lip as she exited. “I’m not trying to be difficult.”

  “I never thought you were.” He fiddled with the lock until it actually clicked into place. A swift kick or a hard shoulder would open the door, but it was better than nothing. Their things should be safe enough in the daytime with people coming and going. With one arm around her waist, he guided her to his ride.

  “You’re not mad?”

  He backed her against the side of the truck, placing his hands on either side of her. “Why would I be mad? You have every right to want time to figure out your path in life, where you want to live.” He paused before adding, “Who you want to be with.”

  She swallowed hard, the delicate line of her throat rippling. “After what happened, you have every right to expect more.”

  He shook his head, stopping that train of thought before it even left the station. “The only rights I have are the ones you give me. We were both raised in the same pack.” A smile curved his lips. “If I suggested otherwise, my mother, or yours, or any of the women would quickly school me otherwise. Assuming my father didn’t kick my ass first.”

  Her giggle was lighthearted and lifted his spirits. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not being fair to you.” She waved her hand in front of her as if wiping something away. “Clean slate. Let’s start the day from here. Where are we going?” Her stomach chose that moment to growl.

  Etienne laughed and dropped a quick kiss on her sweet lips. He respected the hell out of her, would never pressure her or expect anything she wasn’t willing to give, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use every skill he had, every bit of knowledge he possessed about her, to try to seduce her.

  “First I feed you.” He held her door and scanned the area as she climbed in. There was no sign of Luc or his brother. Maybe they’d given up and left.

  And maybe the sun would rise at midnight.

  His wolf growled, on high alert. He was protecting precious cargo. Maybe not the best term, and one she would object to, but the one thing that was true was that he would protect her with his life.

  ****

  “She didn’t?” Amy sipped her second cup of coffee, happy and sated after a feast of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hash browns. “Emma was working in the wood shop?” The members of the pack made money in various ways. Her daddy and some of the others made custom furniture that commanded a high price in exclusive shops across the country. What had started out as a small venture had expanded since what they produced was limited and the highest quality, all from wood ethically sourced from pack land.

  “Why not? You did.” Etienne was on his second order of pancakes and bacon after deciding the double breakfast he’d had the first time around wasn’t enough. He had to be starving. Werewolves had huge appetites, burned a lot of calories on any given day, but this was excessive. He likely hadn’t eaten in almost a day.

  Because he’d been looking for and then protecting her.

  “Yes, but I started working with my daddy when I was a kid. Emma has always preferred to be with her mother. No one sews better or makes more beautiful quilts. And her cakes and cookies are like something out of a magazine. She could open her own bakery.”

  He finished chewing his last mouthful and pushed his plate away. Sitting back, he patted his stomach. His flat, hard stomach. “You were a girly girl and a tomboy.” His smile was pure sin. “Still are.” He reached across the table and stroked his hand down the row of beaded bracelets and then flicked the dangling earring in her ear, making the colored stones dance.

  “But she’s never been the rough-and-tumble type.” There was something delicate and feminine about the younger girl. Not that she was prissy. She was a wolf, through and through. Shifted, she was a ghost in the woods, almost as good as Amy’s daddy and Etienne when it came to stealth.

  He shrugged. “She’s at the age where she wants to stretch her wings and try new things.” When he gave her a look, she got the point. She’d taken off to stretch her own wings. “She’s always helped in the garden.”

  “True.” God, was she guilty of pigeonholing the girl? The irony was thick. She’d always felt motherly toward Emma. It gave her an inkling of how her parents and the rest of the pack must see her actions. “Are they all mad at me?”