Scarlet Heat(26)

It’ll pass, I told myself uneasily as I tucked my still hard cock back in my pants. It has to pass because there’s nothing I can do about it.

I decided to go check on her clothes and give her a little more time to herself so I went out to the garage. She’d thrown her skirt and blouse and underwear outside the bathroom door as I had requested and I had put the whole lot in the washing machine earlier. I used the delicate cycle because I didn’t know what else to do—my entire wardrobe mostly consisted of jeans and t-shirts that didn’t need any special attention.

The clothes looked okay so I moved them into the dryer. I’m ashamed to say I lingered a little while over her underwear. It was a delicate set of lacy white panties and a bra to match—demure and sexy at the same time, which pretty much seemed to describe Taylor herself as far as I was concerned.

I couldn’t help imagining her in the underwear as I put them in the dryer. She looked good in white—like the creamy white dress I’d had her wear in the little glam-fantasy we’d done. God, why had I asked her to do that? Why had I offered to drop my mental shields for her? It seemed to be in the same category as offering her my throat to feed from. I was letting her in, giving her access to parts of me that ought to stay private, hidden.

But I had sensed hidden things in her mind too, during our session. Doors she wanted to keep closed, dark places she didn’t want to look into. I wondered if she would ever trust me enough to let me go to those places, open those doors. But why should she? And even if she did, it wasn’t like I could return the favor.

My stomach growled, pulling me out of my thoughts and reminding me that I hadn’t had anything to eat all day. Well, unless you counted the three freaking packs of bacon she’d fed me when I was the Wolf early that morning.

I couldn’t help grinning when I remembered our little exchange over that. Taylor clearly had a sense of humor that matched my own. I loved being with a woman who could laugh. Not to mention the fact that she was gorgeous and kind and brave—

Stop it, I warned myself. Just stop right now. You don’t need to get in any deeper than you already are.

I knew it was true and yet I couldn’t help liking her. Like her all you want, whispered a little voice in my head. She may even like you back but that’s because she doesn’t know.

I put my fingers to the small of my back and traced the raised ridges of the brand that marked me there. Right, she didn’t know about my secret—about the curse that had driven me from my old pack. And if she did, she would most likely run fast and hard in the other direction, just like every other female I’d ever been with.

There was a reason I was a lone wolf and it wasn’t just because I was an antisocial bastard. Taylor didn’t need to know about that, though. We were married in name only. When this was all over, she was going back to the vampire world and I would stay out here on my land, alone with my curse forever…

My stomach growled again, putting an end to my pity party. The three packs of bacon I had consumed in my wolf form were long gone. Time to make a sandwich and stop playing poor pitiful me.

It was going on six o’clock by that time and the light in the kitchen had dimmed considerably. It would be twilight soon—safe enough for Taylor to emerge, I hoped. It hadn’t been much later than this when I'd gone to collect her the night before. God, had it only been twenty-four hours since I had brought her home with me? It seemed so much longer. It was strange how much could happen in a day. Well, a day and a night…

I was thinking so hard about my time with Taylor that I nearly stepped right in the damn silver trap that was lying out in the middle of the kitchen floor.

I would have put my foot right into it but the light of the dying sun caught it, casting a gleam of silver that hit my eye right before I stepped. I glanced down at the last minute and saw it lying there, its silver teeth still stained with my blood from the night before. Shit! I would have stopped but I was already in motion, my foot raised for the next step. I wound up making an awkward little hop to get over it and damned if the fucking thing didn’t jump up in the air and snap shut, right on the crotch of my sweatpants.

If there are any guys reading, I’ll save you the agony and tell you right now that it didn’t get me. I thought for a minute it had, though. I could feel the weight of it dragging against my sweatpants, could see the bloodstained silver teeth digging into the baggy gray material and in my mind’s eye I swear I saw my balls clamped in the thing’s awful grip.

“Fuck!” I shouted, scrabbling desperately to get it off me, away from me. I shucked the sweatpants down in record time and grabbed myself with both hands, making sure I was still intact.