Page 57

There are streetlamps in town and some in front of homes, but the rural side streets don’t have any manmade lights to illuminate the night. My shifter-enhanced vision is more than enough for me to see every crack and dip in the road. Lottie seems to be having more trouble traversing the uneven pavement and lack of sidewalk. A few times, I reach out to steady her elbow, and the one time I make contact is the most pleasurable moment of the evening.

When we reach the intersection of the road that branches off and leads to my property and the cabin, we have to cross the street. Lottie follows behind me, but the moment the asphalt ends and the dirt and gravel road begins, Lottie trips.

She shrieks and falls onto her hands and knees, cursing under her breath.

“Are you okay?” Reaching down, I try to help her up, avoiding touching as much skin as possible. It’s difficult, considering how little her dress really covers.

“Yeah, I think I’m okay. Just tripped in a hole I didn’t see.”

She stands and tries to put weight on her legs, but one practically buckles under her.

“Ouch, shit.”

“What?” I ask, panicked that something is broken.

“I think I twisted my ankle.”

My eyesight is enhanced, but I’m no doctor, and I can’t tell if there’s something wrong with her ankle just by looking.

Lottie tries to walk on it, and again, she crumples, hopping on her opposite foot and reaching out to steady herself against my side.

It’s torture to feel such pleasure touching her and guilt for her pain.

“Great. This was such a good day, too. What a crap way to end it. Maybe I could . . .” she trails off, trying to position herself against me so she can hop on one foot.

That is not acceptable.

Crouching down, I scoop Lottie into my arms, cradling her against my chest. The feeling of holding her so close and touching so much of her skin sets my entire body on fire. I make sure to hold her high enough that she won’t press against my groin and feel the massive hard-on now testing the limits of my jeans' durability. The material presses hard against my knot, which is already swollen and ready for a good rut.

I smother a curse at the torturous sensations flooding my body.

“You don’t have to carry me; I’m sure I could manage to make it back to the cabin. If you just give me an arm to lean on, I’ll be fine.”

I grunt disapprovingly.

“Not a chance, Lottie. I’m carrying you, and that’s final.”

My fingers tighten on Lottie’s side and thigh where I hold her, allowing for no argument. She doesn’t fight. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she draws her chest closer to mine and presses her beautiful breasts into me. I can feel her warmth where we connect; a growling purr emanates from my chest.

“Did you just growl?” Lottie chuckles close to my ear.

“No,” I lie because I can’t very well admit to my beast liking her close proximity and that the growl was a purr of contentment.

Lottie giggles again, getting comfortable in my hold and settling in my arms like she belongs there.

She does, my inner beast agrees.

Lottie’s fingers roam the breadth of my shoulders, tentatively at first but more boldly when I don’t stop her. The soft touches both heaven and hell in my current predicament.

“I bet carrying me doesn’t even phase you, does it?”

“Not really.”

“I haven’t seen a gym in town. How do you stay in shape?” she asks, her fingers circling the collar of my shirt, momentarily grazing across the bare skin beneath. My cock pulses in time to her touches, and the light of the waning moon isn’t helping the situation.

“I have a home gym, and I like running in the woods around my house.”

“I like running. It was the only part of my workout regimen I didn’t mind doing. Always felt so freeing.” Lottie looks up at me, and I catch her gaze out of the corner of my eye. Her lipsare parted, and her tongue pokes out to lick them. “Perhaps we could go running together sometime.”