Page 16 of Witch’s Wolf (Bound by the Howl #2)

16

SAM

“ M y dog! Oh, my big, big dog!”

Ray’s voice cuts through the grind of the power drill, loud enough to be heard over the metallic whine. In my peripheral he’s thrusting his hips and miming doggy style as he mocks me. Of course, he won’t let it go.

I keep my eyes on the busted exhaust in front of me, pretending I don’t hear or see him, but my grip on the welder tightens. Heat flares against my palms, the scent of burning metal fills my nose, but it’s nothing compared to the fire that lingers on my lips.

Erica.

I should’ve known better. I’d spent the morning scrubbing her scent off me, using soap, cologne, hell, I even aired out my cabin like a damn crime scene. None of it mattered. The second she walked in, every one of my brothers knew. Not just because she kissed me in front of them like she owned me, but because her presence alone wrecked my careful disguise. Her scent clings to my skin, to my damn soul, and wolves don’t miss shit like that.

The second Ray caught on, the floodgates were open. Now, I’m the target of his never-ending stream of crude jokes. I exhale through my nose, trying to focus. Any second now, Raul will step in. He doesn’t tolerate Ray’s bullshit when it’s aimed at him, so he sure as hell shouldn’t let him ride me this hard.

Except, Raul doesn’t say a damn word. Figures. I should’ve expected that too. I did expect this. But I’ve got bigger problems than Ray’s mouth. The biggest one? She spent the night in my bed.

A human. A human who sings like sin and burns like wildfire. A human who tastes like she was made just for me. Last night, I tasted that fire.

I won’t go to her. Won’t let myself touch her again. Because it ain’t happening. I can’t let it happen. Except, she’s already under my skin. And I don’t know how the hell to get her out.

By the time I make it home, I’m wound tight, my body betraying me with every damn thought of her. I push open the door, ready to drown myself in a cold shower, maybe a stiff drink, anything to erase the heat still simmering under my skin.

Cinnamon. Damn it.

I don’t have to follow the scent. I cross the living room and push the bedroom door open and there she is.

Naked in my bed, legs slightly parted, eyes burning with the same hunger as before.

My pulse kicks, hard and fast. The air is too thick to breathe. My body responds before my mind can shut it down, my cock is rock hard, straining painfully against the fabric of my jeans.

I have to walk away. Tell her to get dressed, to leave before I do something I can’t take back. But she’s looking at me like she knows exactly what I want. My wolf growls, asserting itself.

Mine. Dominate. Take.

Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head and growl.

“It ain’t happening,” I say, the words tasting like ash in my mouth, but I force them out anyway.

Erica doesn’t move. She stays right there, sprawled across my bed like she belongs in it, like she belongs to me. Her gaze flickers with a challenge. Or maybe it’s disappointment.

I clench my jaw. I’m too damn tired for this, too wired from Ray’s teasing, too raw from the way she tore through my defenses like they were nothing. It’s more than just exhaustion. It’s her. The way she looks at me like I’m all she wants. All she needs. It twists something deep inside me, something I can’t afford to feel.

“Get dressed,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend, but I’m fighting both the wolf and every manly instinct I have. “You’ve got a gig tonight.”

She blinks, slow and assessing. She languidly bends her leg, slowly tracing the other one with her foot. My heart thunders and my mouth is dry.

“That’s all you have to say?” she asks.

No. It’s not. But if I say more, I’ll end up right back where I started, trapped in her fire, drowning in the need to claim her. I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling hard.

“Get up. We’re going out.”

Erica’s brows lift, curiosity flickering through her expression, but she doesn’t argue. She slides out of bed, moving with the kind of grace that makes my pulse hammer harder. I force myself to look away, to focus on anything but the fact that she was just in my bed, naked, waiting for me and that I said no.

I take her to the one place that used to be off-limits, a place that once had my old Alpha tightening the reins on the pack. Shandaken.

Most of our kind steer clear, but Raul used to sneak out here, drawn to the kind of trouble our Alpha didn’t approve of. He got caught more than once. Never did learn his lesson.

I park near the main square, the town’s quiet hum vibrating under my skin. Erica watches me with barely contained amusement.

“What?” I grunt, shutting off the truck.

She smirks. “Just wondering what you’re up to, that’s all.”

Hell, so am I.

“I was here this morning,” she says, her voice light, but there’s curiosity underneath. “Didn’t have a chance to look around, though. Monica was in a hurry.”

I glance at her as two kids race past us, their laughter bouncing off the brick storefronts.

“Do you like it?”

She turns, taking in the quiet charm of Shandaken, her lips curving into a smile.

“It’s great. Of course, we could be doing something a lot more intimate, but…”

“Don’t start that again,” I say with a sharp exhale, cutting her off.

Her smirk deepens. “I’m just saying?—”

“I didn’t want you to be late for work because of me.”

The excuse feels flimsy even as I say it. She chuckles. I hate how warm the sound is, even as it’s teasing.

“I know. I’m messing with you.” A two-horse carriage clatters past, and she watches it go with quiet fascination. “I think I’m starting to understand how Monica felt when she discovered your world.” Her expression shifts, something thoughtful settling in her features. “I wasn’t much help back then. I laughed at her. Made jokes about you guys.” She shakes her head. “If roles were reversed, I’d have been pissed.”

I watch her for a beat, noting the flicker of guilt in her eyes.

“Raul told me you weren’t very supportive.”

Her gaze snaps to mine, unreadable. Disappointment? Hurt? Shock? I don’t know.

“But your case and Monica’s are different,” I continue, keeping my voice even. “You’re not only discovering a whole world you didn’t know existed, but one you’ve been part of since the day you were born. You just didn’t know it.”

She’s quiet and thoughtful for a moment, then slides her fingers between mine, locking us together. The simple act sends a jolt of heat through me, but I ignore it.

“I think that’s the most words I’ve ever gotten out of you,” she murmurs, tilting her head. “Should I expect more of this in the future?”

“Depends on the topic,” I huff, half-laughing.

“Why?” Her fingers tighten around mine. “Is it hard for you?”

Yeah. It is. Words are weight. They matter. And the more I speak, the harder it is to keep my distance.

“Is it important to you?” I ask.

“I liked it,” she murmurs, her fingers slipping from mine. She trails them up my arm, slow and deliberate, leaving heat in their wake. She reaches my neck, lingering, fingertips pressing against my pulse.

“There’s something in your voice that calms me.”

Says the woman whose voice could bring any man to his knees.

I almost say it, almost let the words slip, but she’s already moving, fingers circling like she’s mapping the edges of my restraint. My heart kicks against my ribs as she strokes the side of my neck, her touch featherlight, testing, teasing. I brace myself for what comes next, and sure enough, she leans in.

I know what she wants. And I want it too.

This isn’t the kind of town where people kiss in the streets without drawing looks. Not the kind of place where a man like me, already a threat in their eyes, can afford to be seen tangled up with a human woman. My hands tighten at my sides, caught between what I know I must do and what my body is demanding.

Her lips brush mine before I can stop her, soft and searching, pulling me into the gravity of her. It would be so damn easy to lose myself in this.

I can’t. Not here.

I shift, dragging my mouth to her cheek, my arms coming around to pull her into a hug, something they won’t gawk at.

“Hold your horses,” I murmur against her hair, my voice rougher than I intend. “The locals don’t like this sort of thing.”

She exhales, her breath warm against my skin.

“Then we won’t be coming back here anytime soon,” she says, low and stubborn. “I’d rather be enjoying this hug someplace else.”

A quiet laugh rumbles in my chest, but I don’t let her go.

Shandaken. The last place I ever thought I’d be wrapped around a woman like this, in public, my walls crumbling one touch at a time. I tell myself it’s nothing. Only a moment. A simple embrace. Deep down, I know better.

She doesn’t hold back. She never has. And maybe that’s what scares me most. How easily she takes what she wants, how effortlessly she pulls me in. I don’t know if I like it. I don’t know if I can afford to. I do know one thing.

Letting go doesn’t feel like an option.