Captive Wolf (Werewolf Erotic Romance) (Amber in Darkness #1) by Julianne Reyer Page A

confidence.
    "I don't trust anyone." A cocky smile touched his lips and he crossed the distance between them with a casual stride. "But I believe you."
    Smiling back at him, Amber loosened the strings on her corset, exposing more of her cleavage to him. He gripped her hand, drawing her close for a long unrestrained kiss, crushing her mouth against his, meshing them together.
    Her eyes closed as his tongue parted her lips. She hummed and let the amulet go so she could run her hand down Scott's chest. It was like a phantom switch had been thrown, so smoothly that now she wasn't sure it had even existed. Had she really witnessed that moment of fear, or was she deluding herself? Projecting on him what she too often saw in the mirror.
    It was familiar, primal, impulsive. What does he look like when he—
    She quickly brushed the thought aside and melded her body against him, berating herself for trying to analyze everything. Just stop , she thought. Time to give in, let her mind drift in a state of fuzzy dreamlike arousal. He's so warm.
    Scott broke away and gripped Austin's shoulder. "We're not done yet."
    "Of course." Austin lifted his chin, pursing his lips. With his eyes focused on Scott, he stepped backwards to the edge of the bed. And as he sat, he dropped his gaze to his own hard cock, before glancing up again.
    But Scott made no move to follow him. Not yet, at least. Instead, he tilted his head, turning his eyes back to Amber. She clenched her hands in his shirt, crumpling it, wadding it up in her tight fists. He wouldn't know it but something palpable had passed between them, a fragile connection. Although he had only shown anger on the surface, she'd shared his fear underneath, his vulnerability. And she didn't want to let that bond go.
    He kissed her again, his tongue invading her mouth, striving, tangling with hers. A needy coil of desire twisted in her belly and then lower, forcing her breath to come faster. Her fingers grasped, digging against his hard chest. His hands settled on her hips, urging her closer to the bed.
    Their tongues clashed; the kiss deepened, emerging desperate and hungry. In Amber's mind they were alone, some place secret and dark, and it was agonizing, the desire pulsing between them. But that image was painfully short-lived as Austin gave a snort of amusement behind them.
    She glanced back into the leering eyes of the young vampire. He'd stretched out on the bed, languid and catlike, on his side. Watching them.
    Oh well, she decided. He can wait . She knew Scott wanted Austin as well, and he was a man who got what he wanted. There was no doubt of that. But right now, Scott was all hers. It wasn't that she consciously wanted to compete with Austin. He was her friend, not to mention the subject of her naughtiest fantasies. Even so, she couldn't deny that the petty desire was there, unwanted, lurking.
    A stab of guilt under the shivers of lust. Too many intricacies. They were making her head hurt. But regardless, she knew it wouldn't come between her and Austin. She wouldn't let it. No matter what happened, he would always be her closest friend.
    Amber slid her hands under Scott's shirt, fingers reaching, exploring his hard defined abs. He raised his arms, an invitation, and she started at the bottom, undoing the buttons. Under his shirt, he was warm, taut, and tanned, with an enticing shadow of dark hair adding to his sharp definition.
    But there were small pink spots too, like new, healing flesh from old wounds. She touched her lips to one, then another, working her way up his chest, nibbling along his sternum, inhaling his maleness.
    Her body was buzzing, reckless and alive with the insistent throb in her loins. Oh God, she couldn't believe she was doing this. Not with a guy built like this, another werewolf no less. And with Austin right there.
    She pushed Scott's shirt off his broad shoulders and it fell to the ground. Then she paused, and looked up at him, one finger tracing the jagged gash of