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Her long, tanned legs were crossed in front of her, her shorts showing off the length of her legs, the roundness of her hips.

His mouth went dry. Hell. He loved the curves of her. He’d had no idea how much until sitting here now with her, so close they were almost touching. He wanted to tell her so that she wouldn’t be so self-conscious about those curves anymore, would stop wearing the oversized t-shirts and baggy pants she liked to wear so much, crossing her arms over her body to hide her generous breasts.

Although, she wasn’t wearing baggy pants today, just those short-shorts. They weren’t hers he realised—they must be Siobhan’s. The Were-soldier in training was always strutting around in clothing that was too tight and too short, hair too big, too many necklaces and bracelets on and make-up too brightly coloured, lecturing Ivy on her dress sense. Why Ivy chose today of all days to listen to her, he had no idea, but by the Goddess, it was driving him crazy, seeing that expanse of long tanned leg so close.

She hadn’t furthered their conversation as to why she had come to find him. He would have left it there—should have left it there given the forbidden nature of his feelings for her—except some demon inside him made him say, ‘What about you? The part of you that isn’t wolf? Does it worry about me too?’

Her fingers stilled and he didn’t think she was going to answer, but then she said, ‘I like to know you’re okay too. As a friend,’ she said in a hurry. ‘Like I worry about all of my friends.’

Friends? He’d done his best to ensure they weren’t even that. Not easy to do given she was a maternal Were whose job it was to make certain everyone was cared for. And not easy to do when, despite his best efforts, he could never make himself fully disengage when others were around. He loved listening to her; often found himself drawn to her when they were in a group together, listening as she spoke to her friends about her hopes and dreams, her plans to finish her Bachelor in early childhood education and go on to do her Masters and eventually a doctorate. She was so smart; he knew she’d do it. And ambitious in that gentle way of hers which he found so appealing. He’d heard her talk over with Siobhan her hopes and dreams for starting a cross-pack early childhood centre to promote connection and understanding between the packs. He was fascinated in the idea. Wanted to talk through it with her. But of course, he couldn’t. Even when she tried to engage with him, speaking to him in a way that made him feel welcomed and a part of everything in a way nobody else did, he had forced himself to walk away. He was surprised she didn’t hate him or talk of him with disdain like she talked of her brother and his friends.

Maybe it was because he used to treat her like a friend—or his friend’s kid-sister. He wished he could go back to those days when she’d been Stellan’s baby sister and nothing more. But she’d been more than that ever since she’d graduated from school two years ago. He’d been unable to take his eyes off her in her flowing yellow dress, the crimson cap and gown bringing out the gold in her skin, the topaz in her eyes, her smile so wide and alive it stole his breath.

He swallowed hard thinking of it now.

Kind Ivy.

Beautiful Ivy.

Sexy Ivy.

Goddess, how he wanted her. He’d wanted her for so long, it was an ache inside. But it was no good. He was meant for another.

He tried, he tried so hard to think of his duty to the pack, to her, but he couldn’t. Not with her sitting so close. Not with her telling him she wanted to make certain he was okay and looking at him with those eyes that said it was more than friendship she wanted fro—

His thoughts crashed to a halt. Wait. What? He looked at her, begging her in his mind to look up at him.

She did.

Their eyes clashed.

Passion. Longing. Aching need.

For him. She felt that for him.

How could he have missed something so monumental?

Memories of her crowded through his mind: Ivy laughing after winning a race with her best friends, her eyes lit up, her generous mouth open wide and uninhibited as her laughter sang to the sun, her glorious chestnut curls a riot around her heart-shaped face, the laughter stopping as her gaze met and clung to his; Ivy pulling herself out of the water at the beach, her toned curves and olive skin glowing golden in the sun, her hair slicked back, eyes pools of bliss as she stood, arms out, and enjoyed the warm breeze and the sun until she’d spun to see him and the others sitting there, her gaze meeting his before she’d blushed, grabbed a towel and run off; Ivy looking more at home than anyone had a right to be in his aunt’s kitchen, cooking her famous zucchini bread—Goddess, he loved her zucchini bread!—and offering him a piece, telling him she’d cooked it just for him; Ivy sitting at a desk, nibbling at her nail, brow furrowed in deep thought as she read the text book before her, seemingly lost in her studies until she’d suddenly looked up at him with what he now recognised as a look of confused want and longing in her eyes.

A longing that went beyond sexual attraction. Went beyond the link of the pack bond. Went beyond the ties of friendship.

‘Ivy?’

Her eyes widened. There was a tug as something pulled tight inside him, a click of realisation falling into place.

She made a sound, an oof of surprised recognition. ‘Are you sure? It’s not what they want. You can deny it.’

He nodded. ‘I know. I’ve been trying. But I can’t. Not anymore.’

‘Neither can I.’

‘Then yes?’

She smiled at him—the sun came out with her smile and it was blinding.

He held his hand out. She took it in hers. He tugged.

Then she was on his lap and they were kissing and he never wanted to come up for air. His hand was on her breast, her nipple pebbling against his palm. He rubbed his hand up and down and she moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating down to his stomach, making his cock jerk, his balls tighten. He was afraid of spilling before getting her close to where he was, but as she cupped his face and pulled away to look into his eyes, he knew he would never do anything but make certain her life was bliss.