Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)(37)

A lick of pleasure raced down my body, quickly extinguished by an intrusive thought that crossed my mind. This was how Jericho seduced all his conquests, and I would be no different from them if I let him continue.
I turned around. He tilted his head—eyes alight and buzzing with arousal. I focused on the only thing that would turn me off, and that was the hickey on his chest. “How come you haven’t settled down with a mate? You’re not getting any younger.”
“Never found anyone worth settling for.”
“Maybe you’re attracting the wrong women.”
“I could say the same about you. Only men, not women.”
I touched his nose and smiled. “You haven’t met the men in my life.”
“Nor have you met the women in mine,” he countered.
My fingers traced the outer edges of his hickey. “This tells me all I need to know.”
Jericho’s rings suddenly bounced across the floor, and he rubbed his chest as if he were trying to erase the mark. “If it bothers you that much…”
Faster than a blink, Jericho shifted into his animal in a fluid motion. The beautiful wolf I remembered stood before me, proud and tall with his head held high. He licked my hand and sat back on his hind legs. I squatted down and ran my hands alongside his face, burying my fingertips in the angel-soft hairs behind his ears. Jericho’s wolf was a spectacular creature—earthy brown with shades of cream and orange. In certain spots, the tips of his hairs were black, especially around the tail. Most Shifter wolves were easily identifiable because of unique markings, unless they were a solid color. But sometimes you could simply tell by looking in their eyes.
He lapped me up with those jade eyes rimmed in black, and I laughed. I never had to worry about his wolf putting on a façade. Like all wolves, his loyalty ran deep for those he loved. Because of our travels, we’d learned to trust and protect each other. There were nights when Jericho’s wolf had kept me warm and guarded me with his life. We didn’t always have a bed to sleep in, but I’d never had any fear as long as he was by my side.
His eyes bubbled with familiarity as he excitedly licked my face and greeted me after years of separation. Wolves are pure and not polluted with all the hang-ups humans carry around like spare change.
“I missed you,” I said, trying to keep my mouth closed as he continued licking.
His tail wagged and he whined, but I could still see in his eyes a flicker of Jericho, who hadn’t let his animal take complete control.
A knock sounded at the door and I gasped when Jericho unexpectedly shifted into human form. My hands were wrapped around his naked thighs and my face was right in his crotch, just as Hawk strode in the room with a look of disgust on his face.
“You did that on purpose,” I snarled, glaring up at Jericho.
He winked.
“What the fuck is this?” Hawk exclaimed.
“It’s Jericho being funny,” I said, rising to my feet. “Hawk, I’d like you to meet an old friend. This is Jericho Cole.”
“Yeah, so I see,” he went on, anger stamped on his features. “You have a funny way of saying hello to an old friend, Izzy.”
Hawk was wearing his button-up blue shirt. I hated that look because he always undid the first four buttons and subjected the world to his chest hair. Not that it was venturing into grizzly-bear territory, but enough of it poked out that gave everyone a peep show.
“Hawk, don’t be ridiculous. He shifted to play a joke on me.”
Hawk stepped forward aggressively and sliced the rock star from head to toe with his sharp eyes. “I don’t find my girl’s face in your balls very funny.”
Jericho hiked up his jeans and buttoned them. “Neither do I, but that’s another story,” he said as smooth as molasses. “So you’re the big bird? Hawk? Is that your animal too? My wolf likes to eat them for a light snack.”
Hawk stepped around me and folded his arms. “Why don’t you keep on talking? I’ll show you what the fuck my animal is.”
To be honest, I’d never seen Hawk shift. He alluded that he was a wolf, but we always shifted separately. The way he laid down the threat put me on edge.
“Hawk, let’s go.” I touched his arm, but he shook me off.
Jericho bent down and fished through his blazer until he found his pack of cigarettes. He put one between his lips and began sliding his rings back on. The anger on his face was palpable. He left his jacket and broken necklace on the floor and faced Hawk wearing nothing but jeans, the rings on his fingers, and holding a leather belt in his hand. “Go ahead, Tweety Bird. Scare me with your badass talons and beak. I haven’t eaten breakfast and could use a little… chicken.”