Her Viking Wolves(44)

21





“Do not talk any further.”

I find myself blinking in the wake of his polite Viking-raised-by-a-modern-woman version of “shut the hell up.”

“Okay, that’s cool,” I say. “I’m totally good with shutting up. In fact why don’t you stay here. I can go into town alone…”

I start to stand up, only to get yanked backwards. The next thing I know I’m in FJ’s lap. In FJ’s lap. Once again looking into his intense gray eyes, this time from within his arms.

“What are you doing?” I demand, struggling to get my hands between us so I can break away.

“Be at ease, Varra. I only mean to kiss you.”

Oh, he only means to… “Wait! What?! Dude, no! That’s not cool. Do not kiss me. Do not—”

He kisses me, tongue delving deep as he takes my words away with his mouth.

And it’s not cool. Totally not cool…

But damn does it feel good. All strong arms and pressure as he pulls me even further into his lap, so his hard length is pressing against my ass as his insistent tongue invades my mouth.

It’s so wrong, but somehow I find myself melting into it, helpless to stop myself from kissing him back. I finally begin to understand why most she-wolves enjoy this so much.

It’s just so fascinating…and hot…and soft.

I would have thought his beard would be like kissing a brillo pad, but it’s silky against my skin. Like Olafr’s fur, and I unconsciously find myself reaching up to touch it, stroking it under my fingers as I receive what I didn’t think I’d be getting until my wedding day.

My very first kiss.

Yes, you read that right. Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and witness the thirty-something-year-old virgin who’s never been kissed!

Honestly, it’s not as pathetic as it sounds. Okay, I’m going to stop lying. It’s pretty damn pathetic. Most she-wolves my age are already mated with a child by now. And even if they’re still single, there’s a strong possibility they’ve been kissed by someone at least once.

It’s just that I’m…I don’t know, I guess I’m not comfortable in my own skin. And Detroit wolves, you have to understand, often seem to have won the genetic lottery—at least when it comes to looks. Most sprout into hunky gods before they’re even out of middle school, which makes it like going to class with the cutest members of your favorite boy band—if the cutest members of your favorite boy band were all over six-feet tall and sported rock solid abs of steel. As you might imagine, this was rarely a problem for most teenage girls.#p#分页标题#e#

But I’ve always been this huge, dark-skinned computer nerd, way more fluent in programming languages than in any spoken languages. And even my princess status isn’t enough to make up for all that awkward sauce when you consider I can barely even look anyone in the eye for more than a few seconds.

By the time my confidence grew after the hell that was high school, all thanks to my first hit videogame, it was too late for me. I was living in my room, surrounded by computers, and conducting all of my non-family interpersonal relationships on Skype.

Looking back on my life, I probably should have seen what was coming with Kyle. Because let’s face it, why else would a perfectly nice, attractive wolf want to be with me? No, stuff like that just doesn’t happen to women like me—not even in the movies. Male wolves aren’t exactly lining up for she-wolves who spend all their time with computers and drink Mountain Dew like it’s liquid gold.

Maybe that’s why I’m kissing FJ back. Why I’m unable to pull myself away. Because I’m shocked this is happening at all. My body is paralyzed. Well, at least paralyzed from doing anything other than stroking his beard and making low moaning sounds in the back of my throat. The little voice in my head pipes up to let me know I sound like I’m auditioning for a porno and am probably not going to get a call back. But I ignore it in favor of obsessing over this kiss—Am I doing it right? I wonder. I hope I’m not screwing up.

But when FJ finally releases me from our insanely addictive lip lock, he’s smiling like he just won the lottery.

“By the gods, your kisses astonish me,” he proclaims. “I like the way you stroke my beard even as you return my kiss so fiercely, Varra.”

As far as compliments go, this one is so odd that I can’t help but laugh a little. “Thanks,” I say weakly. “But…just so you know—”

He sighs, loudly interrupting my attempt to reset some much-needed boundaries.

“Varra,” he says sternly. “I would not have you open your mouth to say, ‘This changes nothing’ yet again.”