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Authors: Carol Van Atta

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I Kissed a Dog (37 page)

BOOK: I Kissed a Dog
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In one smooth movement, I leapt to my feet, unsure what to do next. This wasn’t some
simple white lie. This was a life-altering admission with the potential to disrupt
everything I’d grown to accept and love about my life, about Zane.

Still a virgin? No wonder I hadn’t felt anything different that morning. And Zane
had sent the sheets to be laundered before I’d had a chance to spot any traditional,
telltale signs of our supposed night of passion. There’d been nothing to see, nothing
but clean, unblemished sheets.

His words, “
I couldn’t risk you leaving”
suddenly made sense. He’d needed me for the board meeting and to help investigate
the murders. What if he’d been using me all along?

“Chloe, please, you know what we have is real. The marks, your new powers, none of
it would have happened if we weren’t fated to be together. You are my mate; my chosen
one.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Shockingly, he offered, “Explore
my memories. Maybe that will set your mind at ease. You’ll see I had the best intentions.”

Facing the lake, I shivered, no longer feeling sexy, but vulnerable in my skimpy bikini.
Not able to face him, and uncertain how to respond to his mind-reading suggestion,
I hurried to the cabin, keeping my eyes on the ground.

Once inside, I grabbed my pile of new belongings and darted into the second bedroom.
The one I’d discovered across the hall from the bathroom. Dumping everything on the
bed, I quickly located a pair of underwear, bra, and jogging suit.

Clothes in hand, I crossed the hall and locked the bathroom door. Leaning against
the wall, I allowed the tears to fall.

I’d half expected Zane to follow, but he’d stayed behind. Part of me was relieved,
but a bigger part was disappointed. He should have pursued me. He should be begging
my forgiveness. Not that I’d accept his apology. How could I?

A few minutes later, the shower was massaging the kinks out of my neck with strong
streams of near-boiling water. My skin was developing a pinkish hue from the blissfully
brutal heat. I wanted the temperature hot enough to burn away the pain in my heart.
If only it was that easy.

The fact remained: I loved my brutish, bossy, lying, but deliciously desirable werewolf.
He’d been willing to open his mind to my probing, giving me access to all his darkest
secrets. Would I be willing to do the same?

I didn’t like my answer.

Gazing down at my mating sigils, I watched the soapy water slide over them, pooling
at my ankles, all the while wishing they’d offer some cosmic cure for my latest impasse.

But I knew better. The one with the cure was me.

Chapter
53
33

Dressed in the designer jogging suit, with my curls cascading like an untamed mane
around my face and down my back, I looked like what Melanie had always referred to
as Lady Diva All-natural. All through high school, she’d been jealous of my ability
to appear exotic without any help from the cosmetic counter, where she’d spent countless
hours trying on every shade known to woman to highlight her plainer features.

I missed my friend.

I could use a female’s listening ear right now. Positive girl time was way overdue.
One of my top priorities after returning home and calling my parents would be to contact
Melanie. Hopefully, she wasn’t off on some extended promotional tour for her latest
book.

Putting thoughts of Melanie on hold, I intended to make peace with my husband. There
was a slight problem: He was nowhere to be found.

He’d left a bottle of expensive wine on the counter, and soft music playing in the
background. The one ingredient missing was him.

After wandering the house, and then patrolling the grounds, which were, thankfully,
well-lighted, I’d given up my search and was brushing my teeth and wishing Alcuin
had known what hair products to purchase. When it came to my copper-streaked tresses,
I was picky. Without a hair band, I was stuck with what my mom had referred to as
my ultra-big hair.

After several more attempts to smooth the raging ringlets, I gave up. Who cared if
my hair was rebelling? I had more concerning things to worry about.

Like Zane.

I trusted that he was somewhere close by, keeping vigil over the house. Despite our
current relationship crisis, he was far too protective to leave me unattended.

In lieu of the precarious circumstances, I felt an unexpected wave of heaviness as
exhaustion invaded my limbs. I’d been through so much; now I had an opportunity to
rest my weary body on a massive bed fit for royalty.

With one final look in the kitchen, I trudged up the stairs connecting to the loft,
eager to stretch out on a balanced mattress, firm yet yielding.

I didn’t get the chance.

Reaching the landing, I froze.

The bed looked as inviting as I remembered, but more tempting was Zane, who blended
into the shadows like a predator waiting for its quarry. His eyes glowed amber, flecked
with hints of red, focused and alert, and trained on me with a look of desire and
restrained anger.

He was lounging languidly against the bed’s backboard, pillows propped behind him,
his hair flowing around his face like waves of black satin.

“Took you long enough,” he growled, his voice both raspy and sultry.

It appeared that Zane had been concealing a great deal of his commanding, Alpha presence,
drastically toning down his feral nature since we’d first met. Tonight it was on full
display, sending ripples of fear and tingles of excitement rushing through my entire
body.

I took a step back, reaching for the railing, unsure how to handle this new, darker
Zane.

He seemed to relish my increasing heart rate, evidenced by his narrowing eyes and
mischievous grin. “You’re not scared of me, Princess; are you?” his voice positively
purred.

“How did you get here?” I asked dumbly, knowing he had the supernatural capabilities
to avoid detection.

“The better question might be, how did
you
miss me?” He held my gaze, remaining inhumanly still.

Before I could answer, he was in front of me, cupping my face. “You are mine, Chloe.
I am The Alpha, and you are my marked mate. You chose me and will learn to abide by
my decisions. I am fair and just, and have, since the moment I met you, thought only
of your best interests.

Had you walked away in Vegas, you would have broken my heart, and many of the people
you now call friends would have died. And, ultimately, so would’ve you.”

I started to respond, but he placed his index finger over my lips.

“And, if you remember, you feared, at one point, that I was a vicious brute, capable
of raping a helpless female, one too drunk to remember. You better believe, had we
made love, drunk or not, you would remember,
and
you would have been willing. I would never have taken you without your consent, ever.”

Gasping, suddenly fearful, I attempted to flee, but instead his hands grasped my shoulders,
keeping me facing and focused on him. As if I could look anywhere else in light of
his powerful presence.

Somewhere in my mind, it occurred to me that I should be flaming mad. The only problem
was the harsh truth he’d so clearly articulated, and the way his aggressive wildness
was igniting my own animalistic passions.

Dipping his head, he brushed his lips against mine. “Wolf got your tongue, Chloe?”
he chuckled deep in his chest, and proceeded to slide both hands around my neck, seizing
a mess of my curls in each fist.

I heard myself groan, all anger forgotten, released for good, as he stared into my
eyes, his own saying everything I needed to forgive.

Hungrily, his mouth covered mine. I relaxed; my tongue danced in perfect rhythm with
his. “By the way, I’m willing,” I whispered huskily into his mouth, my voice filled
with expectancy.

In answer, he tightened his grip on my hair and kissed me harder, his tongue swirling.

Without removing his mouth from mine, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to
the bed, tenderly placing me in the center, and then stood again to look down at me,
his expression sinfully heated as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing the
glorious pectoral muscles and flat board abs I appreciated so much.

Those Calvin Klein underwear models, splashed across the billboards, had nothing on
my mate.

By the gleam in his eyes, I had the feeling he wanted to love me hard and fast, but
I knew he’d honor my virgin status. In spite of his animal nature, he’d proven to
be a gentleman in every way. I could anticipate having all my needs met.

The seething passion that seemed to hang like a haze between us, made it impossible
for me to halt my own hands as they worked overtime to remove my jacket and tank.
I wiggled out of my pants at the same time Zane dropped his on the floor.

Rushes of burning heat flooded my face and pooled between my legs when I caught the
first glimpse of his very impressive manhood, thick and heavy with need. My legs parted
automatically.

A throaty moan rushed from his lungs, as his eyes lasered in on my black-laced panties,
soaked by my arousal, the only item remaining between his erection and my flesh.

He moved over me like a silent predator, crouching above his captured prey.

There was no doubt; I was certifiably Zane-captured.

I quivered wildly when his mouth found the soft mound of my breast, his hand possessing
the other. He tasted and tugged, devouring me

Rising up, his knees on either side of me, he looked ferociously at my splayed legs,
his gaze once again resting on the triangle between them. “I hope you’re not too attached
to those panties.” The sensuality in his voice created a raging inferno between my
legs that I knew he alone could extinguish.

I whimpered, “Take them off, now.” I arched my pelvis to meet his hand.

With one swift motion the lacy material was tossed to the floor with the rest of our
discarded clothing.

I lay bare; my legs open in invitation for this god of men, my very own werewolf,
who I realized, without any lingering reservations, I couldn’t live without.

Instead of thrusting in as I expected and half-hoped for, he repositioned himself
and began leisurely tormenting my body, bringing it into complete and utter submission.

Squirming beneath his touch, I gave myself over to his skilled hands.

His tongue taunted and teased my nipples, while his hand circled my stomach, creating
a trail of fire as it made its way lower.

A moment of insecurity invaded when his hand caressed my mound for the first time.
Being a sun lover and avid bikini wearer, I shaved a majority of my hair off.

My worries were squelched, at the sound of his appreciative groan.

“Oh, baby, you are so smooth, so sexy,” he crooned, parting my folds and exploring
my wetness.

A primal moan escaped as I rocked in perfect rhythm to his expert touch, begging with
my body for more. Sensing my urgency, he slipped one finger inside, fueling my passion.
One finger was joined by another, than a third, stretching me impossibly wide. The
thrill of such excruciating pleasure, overpowered the sting his fingers triggered.
I grew slicker and hotter as he increased the speed and growled wildly.

“I can’t take this. I …”

In a blur of motion, Zane was poised over me, his manhood nudging, pressing against
me, seeking entrance.

“Yes,” I pleaded, grinding my hips and pushing myself eagerly against his shaft, opening
my legs even wider. The idea of a gentlemanly love making session no longer appealed.
I wanted it to be fierce. “Don’t hold back, please.”

“I love you, need you,” he groaned, meeting my eyes.

With a conquering roar, he plunged inside my folds. A searing pain and tearing sensation
sliced through me, to be almost instantly replaced by penetrating pleasure. I rose
to meet his deepening thrusts, wrapping my legs around his back, and gripping his
shoulders to gain purchase.

Something was building inside me, a hot throbbing response to his smooth stabs. I
felt myself stretching wider to accommodate his increasing size.

“Oh, Zane …” I cried, bucking beneath him.

Feel everything, my Princess,
Zane spoke into my mind.
Experience what I’m feeling.

I was totally unprepared for what followed.

My core shattered into a million tiny pieces of unparalleled pleasure as everything
that Zane was experiencing exploded into my mind, intensifying every kiss, touch,
and thrust.

Wanting him to have the same experience, I flooded his thoughts with my own overwhelming
ecstasy.

Hearing myself scream, I reached a place of fiery release so intense I sobbed as the
aching swirls of pleasure mounted and erupted, sending stars shooting behind my eyelids.

In that same moment, Zane cried out, a roar feral and inhuman, overflowing with gratification.
I dug my nails down his back, whimpering his name over and over. He flung his head
back, pounding into me harder, and then he shouted my name, sending me further over
the edge as his release poured into me.

BOOK: I Kissed a Dog
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