kind.
The kiss went on and on as though it might never end, and as if they’d never get enough of each other. Hunger sparked memory. This was what she recalled—Michael’s breath in her lungs and his mouth on hers, there at death’s door. This was what she needed now in order to get up and go on.
Michael...
As if sensing how desperately she demanded this connection, the pressure of Michael’s mouth lightened. His lips left hers to angle across her left cheek, drifting toward her neck in a downward trajectory of kisses. He paused near the band of her T-shirt, took hold of the cotton with both hands and crumpled the fabric in his fist.
He was so damn hot. The room was humid and stifling. Her body was quaking with a longing that had nothing to do with life-altering transitions...unless it was about becoming intimate with a man she really didn’t know.
This was body betrayal, big-time, with the hope that Michael would stay and finish what they had started. Maybe then she’d be able to rest. Possibly she’d get over this ridiculous crush if their bodies actually merged.
“Wait.”
The command was loud, though it had been whispered through her cracked lips.
God, had she said that?
Michael heeded that command. His head came up. When he looked into her eyes, Kaitlin detected defiance in his gaze, and knew he was scrambling for a hold on his own wayward needs. Still, he was going to do what she asked, no matter what that cost him.
“You’re right, of course.” His voice emerged as a growl.
She had to say something. “I owe you for saving my life.”
“But now isn’t the time to repay me, and I wouldn’t expect that kind of payment from you anyway, especially when you might not be happy with the way things turn out.”
He didn’t smile as he went on. “If I go now, you’ll settle down. Being near another wolf tends to bring out the wolf in you, and in me. I know that, and I thought...” He let that part dangle, and started again. “Your allure is strong, Kaitlin. I’ll admit that.”
Michael straightened up before she could reach for him. He leaned over her once more, with both hands on the bed beside her. Eyes closed, Kaitlin waited for his mouth to betray his words and for Michael to ignore her outburst in spite of what he’d just said.
There was to be no further touch.
She heard the click of a door and opened her eyes to find herself alone. Michael had left her with the tan paper bag.
Her own growl of distress rose in her throat as her stomach again turned over. Giving in to the rush of feeling she’d trapped in her core, Kaitlin tore into the paper bag as though it were made of tissue—ripping it apart, sending pieces of paper flying.
If she couldn’t have Michael, she’d at least have this.
She wolfed down the meal as if she hadn’t eaten in months instead of days, and with the gusto of someone who might never eat again.
Because you just never knew what could happen from one minute to the next.
Only somewhat satiated, Kaitlin glanced sideways, eyes bleary, startled by her reflection in the mirror. She was on her hands and knees on the bed, bare ass showing from beneath her T-shirt. Barbecue sauce was smeared all over her face and hands, making her look, to her complete dismay, very much the beast she might become.
Staring at that image, she started to cry.
Chapter 6
S ixty-four-thousand-dollar question: How do you cope with life on a Monday when you’ve almost died over the weekend?
Answer: You either curl up for days on end, or you have a go at what’s left.
In the end, Kaitlin had to remember that the Davies family was nothing if not flexible. But she feared that the day stretching ahead would seem like a blur, with life burning like an eternal question mark at the center. Colorless day, colorless surroundings. Heavy books, laptops and ongoing research. Meaningless chitchat. Typical postgraduate stuff.
Because she was no longer herself.
Or so Rena and Michael kept telling
The kiss went on and on as though it might never end, and as if they’d never get enough of each other. Hunger sparked memory. This was what she recalled—Michael’s breath in her lungs and his mouth on hers, there at death’s door. This was what she needed now in order to get up and go on.
Michael...
As if sensing how desperately she demanded this connection, the pressure of Michael’s mouth lightened. His lips left hers to angle across her left cheek, drifting toward her neck in a downward trajectory of kisses. He paused near the band of her T-shirt, took hold of the cotton with both hands and crumpled the fabric in his fist.
He was so damn hot. The room was humid and stifling. Her body was quaking with a longing that had nothing to do with life-altering transitions...unless it was about becoming intimate with a man she really didn’t know.
This was body betrayal, big-time, with the hope that Michael would stay and finish what they had started. Maybe then she’d be able to rest. Possibly she’d get over this ridiculous crush if their bodies actually merged.
“Wait.”
The command was loud, though it had been whispered through her cracked lips.
God, had she said that?
Michael heeded that command. His head came up. When he looked into her eyes, Kaitlin detected defiance in his gaze, and knew he was scrambling for a hold on his own wayward needs. Still, he was going to do what she asked, no matter what that cost him.
“You’re right, of course.” His voice emerged as a growl.
She had to say something. “I owe you for saving my life.”
“But now isn’t the time to repay me, and I wouldn’t expect that kind of payment from you anyway, especially when you might not be happy with the way things turn out.”
He didn’t smile as he went on. “If I go now, you’ll settle down. Being near another wolf tends to bring out the wolf in you, and in me. I know that, and I thought...” He let that part dangle, and started again. “Your allure is strong, Kaitlin. I’ll admit that.”
Michael straightened up before she could reach for him. He leaned over her once more, with both hands on the bed beside her. Eyes closed, Kaitlin waited for his mouth to betray his words and for Michael to ignore her outburst in spite of what he’d just said.
There was to be no further touch.
She heard the click of a door and opened her eyes to find herself alone. Michael had left her with the tan paper bag.
Her own growl of distress rose in her throat as her stomach again turned over. Giving in to the rush of feeling she’d trapped in her core, Kaitlin tore into the paper bag as though it were made of tissue—ripping it apart, sending pieces of paper flying.
If she couldn’t have Michael, she’d at least have this.
She wolfed down the meal as if she hadn’t eaten in months instead of days, and with the gusto of someone who might never eat again.
Because you just never knew what could happen from one minute to the next.
Only somewhat satiated, Kaitlin glanced sideways, eyes bleary, startled by her reflection in the mirror. She was on her hands and knees on the bed, bare ass showing from beneath her T-shirt. Barbecue sauce was smeared all over her face and hands, making her look, to her complete dismay, very much the beast she might become.
Staring at that image, she started to cry.
Chapter 6
S ixty-four-thousand-dollar question: How do you cope with life on a Monday when you’ve almost died over the weekend?
Answer: You either curl up for days on end, or you have a go at what’s left.
In the end, Kaitlin had to remember that the Davies family was nothing if not flexible. But she feared that the day stretching ahead would seem like a blur, with life burning like an eternal question mark at the center. Colorless day, colorless surroundings. Heavy books, laptops and ongoing research. Meaningless chitchat. Typical postgraduate stuff.
Because she was no longer herself.
Or so Rena and Michael kept telling
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