the feral wickedness of Wren's mouth. His tongue
swept against hers, making her shiver. He smelled of patchouli and antibiotic cream.
More than that, he smelted of raw, earthy male. Of wicked midnight delights that she
wanted to spend the entire day sampling.
He pulled away with a deep snarl. "Go, Maggie. Before it's too late."
His words confused her completely. "Too late for what?"
"Aimee," he said between clenched teeth as he refused to look at Marguerite.
Aimee pulled her back. "C'mon, Maggie. He really should rest."
Wren watched as the women left. His heart ached at the loss. Even now Maggie's scent
clung to him. It filled his nostrils, making the beast inside him roar with possessiveness. It
wanted her in a way that was hard to deny.
He placed the heel of his hand against his groin, which was rock hard and throbbing.
He'd never wanted anything more than he did right now to have a night alone with her.
But it was impossible and he knew it.
She was human and he was an animal… in more ways than one. There was no way he
could trust himself with a woman. No way he could trust himself with anyone. He could
turn vicious in a single instant. It was the curse of his people and his breed.
Even his own mother had turned on his father…
Sighing, Wren looked at the gray sweatshirt Maggie had brought to him. He felt a smile
curl his lips, and that was the most amazing thing of all. He couldn't remember the last time
he'd smiled. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he'd ever smiled before in his life.
A foreign feeling entered his chest. He didn't know what it signified. He held the tissue
paper to his face. It held the faintest trace of Maggie's sweet, feminine scent. He crushed it
in his fist as a brutal wave of desire consumed him.
Moving the paper aside, he held her gift in his fist as he lay back down.
Someone knocked on his door.
His breath caught as he hoped it was Maggie again, but it wasn't. Aimee entered the
room.
"You okay, cub?"
He nodded. Aimee was the only person he allowed to call himcub. She didn't use it as
an insult but more as a friendly pet name. Of all the people and animals in Sanctuary,
Aimee was the only one who had ever made him feel halfway welcome. But she, like the
others, feared him. She was afraid even now, though she was trying to hide it.
She crossed the room. As she reached for the bag and paper, he hissed and growled at
her. She straightened up instantly. "I thought you'd want it thrown away."
"No."
She held her hands up in surrender. "Just so you know, I sent her home."
It's where Maggie belonged, but the thought lacerated his heart with pain. He didn't
want her home. He wanted…
He wanted her here with him.
How stupid was that?
"Why didn't you give her her backpack?" Aimee asked in an innocent tone.
He glanced to the corner where Maggie's black Prada backpack was resting. Maggie
had left it in the bar, under the table, during the confusion of last night. Aimee had found it
not long after Maggie had left and told him about it this morning. He'd immediately ordered
Aimee to bring it to him. He hadn't wanted anyone else to touch something so personal to
Maggie.
"I forgot."
Aimee nodded. "You want me to take—"
"No!"
The bearswan gave him a sharp stare. "You need to curb that temper, cub. You know
whatMamanhas said."
He returned Aimee's stare tit for tat. "I don't want your scent on her property.
Understand?"
Aimee rolled her eyes at him. "What is it with you freaky cats? I swear I don't know
who's more territorial, you or the wolves. Artemis protect us from the lot of you."
He watched as Aimee left the room and gently shut his door. He cradled the shirt to him
as he closed his eyes and conjured up Maggie's face. Nick had been right, she was a
beautiful lady. He finally understood what Nick had meant when he'd called her top-quality
goods. It bled from every part of her.
And he was nothing but a hunted piece of shit whose life was as
swept against hers, making her shiver. He smelled of patchouli and antibiotic cream.
More than that, he smelted of raw, earthy male. Of wicked midnight delights that she
wanted to spend the entire day sampling.
He pulled away with a deep snarl. "Go, Maggie. Before it's too late."
His words confused her completely. "Too late for what?"
"Aimee," he said between clenched teeth as he refused to look at Marguerite.
Aimee pulled her back. "C'mon, Maggie. He really should rest."
Wren watched as the women left. His heart ached at the loss. Even now Maggie's scent
clung to him. It filled his nostrils, making the beast inside him roar with possessiveness. It
wanted her in a way that was hard to deny.
He placed the heel of his hand against his groin, which was rock hard and throbbing.
He'd never wanted anything more than he did right now to have a night alone with her.
But it was impossible and he knew it.
She was human and he was an animal… in more ways than one. There was no way he
could trust himself with a woman. No way he could trust himself with anyone. He could
turn vicious in a single instant. It was the curse of his people and his breed.
Even his own mother had turned on his father…
Sighing, Wren looked at the gray sweatshirt Maggie had brought to him. He felt a smile
curl his lips, and that was the most amazing thing of all. He couldn't remember the last time
he'd smiled. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he'd ever smiled before in his life.
A foreign feeling entered his chest. He didn't know what it signified. He held the tissue
paper to his face. It held the faintest trace of Maggie's sweet, feminine scent. He crushed it
in his fist as a brutal wave of desire consumed him.
Moving the paper aside, he held her gift in his fist as he lay back down.
Someone knocked on his door.
His breath caught as he hoped it was Maggie again, but it wasn't. Aimee entered the
room.
"You okay, cub?"
He nodded. Aimee was the only person he allowed to call himcub. She didn't use it as
an insult but more as a friendly pet name. Of all the people and animals in Sanctuary,
Aimee was the only one who had ever made him feel halfway welcome. But she, like the
others, feared him. She was afraid even now, though she was trying to hide it.
She crossed the room. As she reached for the bag and paper, he hissed and growled at
her. She straightened up instantly. "I thought you'd want it thrown away."
"No."
She held her hands up in surrender. "Just so you know, I sent her home."
It's where Maggie belonged, but the thought lacerated his heart with pain. He didn't
want her home. He wanted…
He wanted her here with him.
How stupid was that?
"Why didn't you give her her backpack?" Aimee asked in an innocent tone.
He glanced to the corner where Maggie's black Prada backpack was resting. Maggie
had left it in the bar, under the table, during the confusion of last night. Aimee had found it
not long after Maggie had left and told him about it this morning. He'd immediately ordered
Aimee to bring it to him. He hadn't wanted anyone else to touch something so personal to
Maggie.
"I forgot."
Aimee nodded. "You want me to take—"
"No!"
The bearswan gave him a sharp stare. "You need to curb that temper, cub. You know
whatMamanhas said."
He returned Aimee's stare tit for tat. "I don't want your scent on her property.
Understand?"
Aimee rolled her eyes at him. "What is it with you freaky cats? I swear I don't know
who's more territorial, you or the wolves. Artemis protect us from the lot of you."
He watched as Aimee left the room and gently shut his door. He cradled the shirt to him
as he closed his eyes and conjured up Maggie's face. Nick had been right, she was a
beautiful lady. He finally understood what Nick had meant when he'd called her top-quality
goods. It bled from every part of her.
And he was nothing but a hunted piece of shit whose life was as
Similar Books
