I coughed to hide my groan.
“I would never have thought of that,” Ryan said.
Me neither! Walking over to the living room, I hid the bottle of Bitter Apple under the couch. “Have you seen the remote?” I asked.
“No. Isn’t it on the coffee table?”
Pretending to look surprised, I picked up the remote. “So it is. I must be blind.” I flicked on the television. “Want to find out if you ARE the father?”
Ryan chuckled. “Normally I like to refrain from watching trash TV before noon, but okay. I need a break from this one anyway.” He threw down the pen and pushed away from the table. I waited until he walked away from the open windows and over to me before I made my move.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked as I removed my shirt.
“I thought that might be obvious.” I slunk up to him. He flinched when I reached out.
“I can’t touch you,” he said. “Wick’s orders.”
“Wick said nothing about me touching you.” I slid my hands up Ryan’s chest and over his shoulders. My body pressed against his. I reached back and popped my bra off. The friction against his body made my nipples hard.
“Seems unfair.” His voice roughened.
“That’s the thing about alpha orders. There will come a point where your own basic needs will break the command.”
I would know. Survival instincts and desire were the two emotions powerful enough to break the will of an alpha.
Ryan raised his brow. “He’ll find out.”
Running my hand down his hard chest, I smiled. “Tell him I took advantage of you. It will be the truth.”
Ryan laughed and opened his mouth to speak when I pressed my finger against his lips.
“No more talking.” I used my favorite line. It worked every time.
I leaned up, rubbing my breasts against his chest again, and nipped his jaw. He growled in response. He tried to reach out, but Wick’s compulsion held him back. I kissed him gently. He tried to say something, but I slipped my tongue between his parted lips.
My wolf stayed silent. She didn’t want Ryan. And if I was honest with myself, I didn’t want him either. Ryan would figure it out, too. I had to act fast.
I pushed him onto the couch and let him lie there while I slowly removed my sweatpants and undies. I crawled on top of him. One part of his body had no difficulty reacting to me. My one hand pinned both of his over his head—a pitiful hold, but he couldn’t move against it. Not yet. Not unless he knew I planned to escape.
I ground against his hard erection. He growled again, but this time it originated somewhere deeper and more primal, close to breaking Wick’s control. I kissed him again. This time I made it rougher. I put my teeth and tongue into it. My free hand groped to the side of the couch until it found the bottle.
Giving no warning or apology, I leaned back and sprayed him in the face.
Ryan howled in pain. He swung out blindly. Out of his reach and running toward the window, I spread my arms out and willed the change. My shift quick, I soared out the window and into the fresh spring air. Free. At last.
Chapter Ten
The wind pressed the underside of my wings—the familiar pressure a gentle caress. Ever present, the bird’s predator instincts weren’t as aggressive as the wolf or mountain lion; instead, it soothed and brought a sense of peace to whatever inner turmoil raged inside me.
Ryan would be calling Wick right now. Something pinged in my little bird chest—because I betrayed Ryan’s trust or Wick’s? Ryan didn’t deserve what I did to him, but it was gentler than a bat to the head or a mountain lion mauling. I lacked options.
No. No point in regretting my escape. Seducing Ryan and leaving Wick were a small price to pay for freedom. They might be great guys and Wick might be…well, something, but they’d both give me up to the Vampire Master in the end.
I angled toward the park where I left my car and shook away any further thoughts of the werewolves like a playa shaking off women with attachment issues.
Circling the parking lot a couple of times gave me the confidence that the area remained wolf free. Midday on a work week, no norms or other supes milled around either.
As soon as I touched down beside my car, I shifted back. Automatically my cat and wolf pushed forward, fighting to dominate my senses. A strong need to analyze the area emerged—to sniff out information like a hound dog or prowl around as an angry cat. Both tempting.
I’d learned the hard way not to think of the wolf or mountain lion in falcon form. Being much smaller and different in nature, I struggled to keep focused. I didn’t want to shift into a hundred and twenty pound mountain lion mid-flight. Luckily, when I’d first learned this lesson, I’d been close to the ground and walked away from the “learning opportunity” with only a broken arm and splitting headache.