Wild Darkness: Paranormal MF BDSM Romance (Wolves on the Prowl Book 4) by Michele Bardsley Page A

he shyly accepted the oversized candy bar. “You don’t gotta bring me treats, ya know.”
    Mac was in his forties, a recovering alcoholic. Giving up booze had left him with a major sweet tooth. Sugar was sugar, whether it was found in a pint of vodka or in a king-sized Snickers. He was a couple inches shorter than her, but lean and hard-muscled. His short blonde hair was speckled with silver. He had blue eyes with a little too much world-weariness in them, but it never overshadowed his kindness. He knew her schedule better than she did, and for some reason, he’d taken to watching for her to come home after shift. He didn’t look like he ever got any sunshine, either. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever seeing him outdoors in the daytime.
    Then again, she had a night-owl lifestyle herself. It wasn’t like she ventured outdoors all that often during daylight hours, either.
    “You don’t have to wait for me,” she insisted.
    “How else am I supposed to get my fix?” he teased.
    She smiled. It was nice that someone cared about her wellbeing, even if he only did it for the candy. “Good night, Mac.”
    “G’night.” He tipped an imaginary hat, and ambled toward the back double doors. He liked to eat his Snickers on the porch, staring out into the ruined gardens, but since she liked to go out there and daydream herself, she couldn’t fault him.
    Roni went inside her apartment, locked the door behind her, tossed off her shoes, shed her coat, and dropped her purse. Her foyer light had burned out a few nights ago and she kept forgetting to change the bulb.
    She shuffled into her bedroom already yanking her work shirt out from her black pants. All she wanted was a shower, a glass of wine, and some deep, dreamless sleep.
    The next thing she knew, she’d been shoved against the wall. The right side of her face pressed against the smooth surface.
    Her heart stuttered then started pounding fiercely.
    The intruder held her wrists behind her back with one strong hand. The other hand grasped her shoulder.
    Icy fear balled in her stomach. Oh, God. Had she just been thinking about how nothing scared her?
    Her throat knotted and her mouth went dry.
    “Y-you can have my purse,” she said. “Take anything in the house. It’s yours.”
    “Anything?” His breath ghosted over her cheek.
    She didn’t have much of value: a TV with a built-in DVD player, a jar full of change, and a silver jewelry box inherited from her great-grandmother.
    “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “Anything.”
    “I want you.”
    Tears fell. Graham had always taken what he wanted. She hadn’t been allowed to say no. Not ever. So, whatever this man did tonight had been done before. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt her, or make her feel all those terrible things she’d felt before. How much could the spirit take before it broke?
    “Just get it over with,” she whispered.
    The hand on her neck drifted up to wipe the tears from her cheek.
    “I’ve been watching you,” he said. “Waiting for you. Sweet Roni. I know those thoughts you tuck away. The dark dreams you’re afraid to reveal because of him. He was a bastard. He wanted your devotion. He wanted to possess you. You thought he would give you what you needed -- but he never gave, did he? He just took.”
    “Stop,” she said. “Just… stop.”
    He was scaring her in an entirely different way now. An intruder who wanted her money or her physical submission was one thing. A man who plucked out her fears and needs from her own mind was something else.
    He let go of her wrists then raised her arms above her head. He flattened her hands on the wall. He pushed fully against her, his arousal rubbing against her ass.
    She sucked in a breath.
    “Keep your hands on the wall,” he commanded. “Nod if you understand.”
    She nodded. Her heart tripled its beat as the man slowly raised her shirt.
    His lips traced the curve of her spine. When he reached the top band of her bra, he slid back down,