“Is this where you ask me to surrender?” I asked.
The pressure on my arms intensified, but not from Wick. From invisible hands. I stood paralyzed against the wall, unable to breathe or move, as memories from the past surged forth.
Dylan’s hot breath seared my neck as he pinned my arms over my head and forced my bruised thighs apart with his knee. “Andrea McNeilly, you are mine.”
My body tensed at the unexpected memory and my vision stained red. I hated Dylan flashbacks. They reminded me of weakness and humiliation. I promised myself long ago I would never put myself in a situation like that again, where I became less.
Wick frowned and loosened his grip on my wrists. “Where would the fun be in that?” His easy going words didn’t match his hard tone, but he stepped back and beckoned me to join him in the middle of the room.
Thankful for the reprieve, I shook out the tightness of my limbs as my reeling mind recovered. Must not show any weakness. People could use it against me. “How about we even the odds?” I asked.
Wick’s white teeth flashed. “How do you propose we do that?”
I slowly moved my hand to the bottom of my shirt, a motion raptly watched by Wick. I pulled the cotton tee over my head and plastered on what I hoped would come across as mischievous smile. Inside, I felt twisted. I wanted to go back to the fun sparring, not release the painful memories I worked hard to suppress.
“I thought the purpose was to make this even.”
“It is.” I let the shirt fall to the floor.
Wick’s irises lightened to wolf-gold. He stepped forward and then, looking unsure of my intent, stopped. “You will have the advantage if you fight naked.” He eyed my bra as if he wanted to rip it off with his teeth. Part of me wished he would. His mouth flattened into a firm line and his body tensed as if he prepared to pounce.
“I don’t plan to fight you naked.” I dropped the sweatpants.
Wick’s expression gleamed with understanding. He rose to the challenge. He removed his clothes without seduction, ripping them off. His outfit had given me a fair impression of what lay beneath, so seeing his naked body shouldn’t have come as a surprise. But it still managed to shock me. His broad shoulders led to large, but not too large, pecs. And his chiseled abs tapered down into a narrow waist and a well-defined V. And following that farther down…Oh my!
My gaze shot back up to Wick’s face. He smirked, unashamed of his arousal. His expression challenged me to react.
I reacted, all right. On the inside. My core revved like an engine, ready to go, and I tried to shove it back to idle with no success. Gritting my teeth, I forced my face to remain blank, despite the burning inferno in my body, racing heartbeat and the very tangible need to throw myself at him. His erection would go away when he shifted, but the image of his perfect, muscle-toned body wanting me would be imprinted in my memory for life. Not fair.
Shucking off my underwear and bra as fast as possible, I gave him little chance to admire my body. I shifted right away. Mountain lion fur rippled out as human skin folded in. I’d fully changed before Wick had started. From the looks of it, the process for a Were involved a lot more pain…and mess. Clear liquid oozed from Wick’s altering form as bones cracked audibly.
Slinking low to the ground, I waited for him to finish before I pounced. Wick’s wolf shook off the fluids from shifting. I changed direction mid-flight to avoid the spray. It hit the side of my body. Gross. I turned and snarled at him. His yellow gaze locked on me and he wagged his tail. I flicked mine in response and lunged again.
We played. No better word for it. We fought as if we were kits or pups in a litter, swatting at each other without extended claws, nipping without drawing blood, tackling without breaking bones.
When the day’s activities wore on me, I collapsed on the mats, panting from exhaustion. Wick joined me. Lying down on his side, his tongue rolled onto the mat as if he lacked the energy to correct it. I hacked in amusement and made the mistake of making eye contact.
He leaned over and licked my face. I swatted his head.
The wolf’s grin mirrored Wick’s human one to perfection. He shifted back and lay face down on the mats, drawing his breath in deep and slow, the faint gleam of sweat covered his body.
Wick turned toward me. “Shift back. You must be exhausted.”
He was right, of course. The shift for me involved a lot more pain than it should have. It always did when I had less energy. When it finished, I lay naked and shaking.
Wick ran a jerky hand through his short hair, rubbing it back and forth. He watched me, muscles tense, without saying anything. I kept my attention trained on him, unsure of what to expect, and allowed my body to lay limp against the floor. The shaking stopped and I released a long breath.