Her bladder suddenly made its presence known. “I need to use the restroom.”
“’K. Use mine.” He pointed to a door across the room. “I’ll wait here for you to … pull yourself together. I know that was no small feat for you. Letting me strip you nearly naked and tease you into submission.” His grin was devious. Teasing.
Alyssa flushed again, wiggled away from his side, grabbed her clothes where they lay discarded around the bed, and headed bare-assed to the adjoining bathroom.
The moment she shut the door, she leaned into it and took deep gasping breaths of air that wasn’t quite as tainted with the taste of her mate. Oh, it was still filled with his scent, probably even worse since the bathroom was his. His shampoo, his deodorant, his shaving cream—all those smells lingered in the air from his shower earlier in the day.
At least she had a moment’s reprieve from his voice, his smooth skin, his minty taste… Nope, she was well and truly screwed.
* * * *
Tyler sat in his car staring out the window attempting to still his pounding heart before he made the final leg of his journey. It would take only ten minutes to get to the Masters’ farm from the hotel where he’d stayed last night.
After devoting every ounce of his energy to the job interview in Denver, Tyler had switched gears and headed straight for Oregon. The interview had gone fantastically, and he had high hopes they’d offer him a job. The company intended to make a decision in about a week. Plenty of time to go claim his woman.
What Tyler had to offer Alyssa today suddenly seemed rather vague and lame. His only worldly possession right that minute was his car. He had a bare minimum of belongings, a pile of student loans a mile high, and no guarantee of employment.
Now there’s somebody every woman is just dying to latch onto.
Tyler chuckled and started the car. No time like the present. Hopefully the pull of them being mates would trump all his imperfections.
Born and raised as a member of the Oklahoma pack, he’d only recently realized true mates even existed. The pack he belonged to did not make frequent mention of that option. It never struck him as odd because humans rarely met their perfect match either, so there’d been no one to refute the idea.
Until he’d gone away to college where he’d met a few wolves from other packs. In retrospect, his pack probably allowed him to move away because he was on the “expendable” list—adult males not mated because there were no available women. It was easier to let him go than arrange a mate for him.
And why hadn’t that lifestyle of arranged polygamy seemed odd to him? Well, it didn’t matter now. He’d gotten the message loud and clear when he’d met other wolves and learned their ways. No other pack he knew of seemed to operate under the same rules. Lupines indeed waited until they met their mate and then claimed them. Sometimes their mate was human; sometimes lupine.
There was little chance anyone besides his parents would even care he’d left. Good riddance. And once he claimed Alyssa, there wouldn’t be anything they could do to get her back either, so the plan was safe.
Perfect. As long as she didn’t mind moving to Denver.
Tyler pulled up the gravel drive to the Masters’ house in full view this time, not needing to hide. The ranch home was a huge, sprawling brick structure with a welcoming hominess that was undeniably absent from his parents’ house.
Hands shaking, Tyler stepped from the car and walked toward the front of the house. His heart beat wildly. This was it. If she was home.
He didn’t even have to knock before someone came outside. In fact he’d not even climbed up the front steps yet.
The man who emerged didn’t say a word. He calmly shut the door with a soft click and leaned his back against it. He was definitely a Masters. Eight days ago Tyler had seen multiple men that looked just like him coming and going while Tyler had waited on Alyssa to appear. Tall men with bronzed skin and brown hair. All had deep brown eyes.
This man had not been one of them.
Tyler took a deep inhale, intent on introducing himself, and gasped. He stepped back from the stairs and held the breath he’d taken. His head swam. His stomach churned, threatening to chuck his breakfast. Michael. It had to be him.
Fuck.
Michael chuckled sardonically. “Was wondering when you’d show up.” He stepped forward and sat on a porch chair.
Tyler leaned forward, put his hands on his knees, and tried to keep the world from spinning.
“I know how you feel. Come on up and sit down as soon as the nausea subsides. Don’t want you to vomit on the porch.”
Tyler lifted his head just enough to see the half smile pasted to Michael’s face. The man was not pleased.