Page 10
Story: Cowboy Wolf's Kiss
“O-okay,” she agreed, and something in me softened at that.
Her ready submission satisfied my animal.Oh, I knew I was right the first time.This woman was dangerous.
Smelling of sin and looking like a saint, she was everything I ever dreamed of having, and nothing I should ever dare claim.
Goddamn, I was fucked.
My cock was thumping behind my zipper, and my Wolf was snarling nonstop.The air surrounding me was heavy.Too heavy.And I knew I would have to change before I went back.
Maybe after I dropped her off, I could park somewhere nearby and go for a run in the storm.Demon would like that.He was a wild thing, just as untamed as the weather.
Yeah, we’d go for a run and forget all about the curvy little human in our front seat.I nodded to myself, coming to an agreement.But I should have known my asshole Wolf had other plans.
I climbed back in the truck after making sure Jed and the herd were alright, and the first thing I noticed was the scent of the woman’s curiosity.
“I’m sorry, I, uh, forgot to introduce myself.I’m Jezebel, Jezebel Braydon,” she whispered, offering me her small hand.
Fuck.
I couldn’t not take it.That would be rude.But I knew touching her was going to be a mistake.A grievous error that could decimate the steel walls I’d built around myself.
Still, before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for her.
My hand was callused, the skin roughened by years of hard work, fighting, and living on the edge of civilization.
It felt twice the size of hers.
The rain had soaked through my shirt, and my fingers were damp as I moved closer, my heart racing.
As our hands met, I felt the warmth of her soft skin against mine, a stark contrast to the chill that clung to the air around us.
The second I closed my fingers around her soft warm ones I felt a shock that went straight to the soul of me.That jolt of electricity surged through me, like a living thing it coursed through my veins and jump started that long-dead organ inside my chest.
Mine,Demon snarled.
Chapter Four-Jezebel
The thing about being a psychic no one told you was that you tended to be blind when it came to your own life.
I used to think my curse was limited to seeing the shadows of the dead, but now and then, I saw other things, too.Inexplicable things.
Things that inspired people to make up fairytales and folklore.
Magic.
Monsters.
Mysteries.
That kind of thing.
Now, I knew the man in the truck was okay, after all, Penelope had sent him, and his truck bore the Motley Crewd Ranch logo.
But I wasn’t expecting a psychic vision to fill my head the moment we locked eyes, which was probably why it hit me so hard.
It felt like a thunderclap in the stillness of my mind, jolting me out of reality.
My pulse started racing as the world around us blurred into insignificance.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
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- Page 5
- Page 6
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- Page 9
- Page 10 (Reading here)
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