constricting, blood rushing, the air rasping in and out of her lungs. The roar could have originated inside her, or it could have been the wind whipping by the missing door of the SUV.
The streetlights wobbled and danced, so she squeezed her eyes shut and groped for the seat and the door. Splaying her hands against something solid made it seem less like she was spinning. “What’s happening to me?”
He cursed again. “Something that shouldn’t be. Not yet, damn it.”
Oh God. She was turning into a werewolf.
“Make it stop.” When she clenched her fingers, her nails scraped over the seat so loudly her head throbbed. “Please. Please, Jay, I don’t want to be a werewolf. I’m not strong enough.”
“Yes, you are,” he argued. The firm words brooked no argument, so certain she could feel them in her gut. The pinpricks up and down her spine eased as something warmer took their place. It melted the tension in her shoulders and trickled down, light and teasing enough to raise goose bumps.
Her nipples tightened. Arousal kindled, embarrassingly abrupt, and she pressed her thighs together. Jay was touching her everywhere and nowhere, stroking along her skin and inside her mind with an intimacy that made her squirm.
Not touch. Not sight or smell or taste, and definitely not a sound. She couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the wind and her pounding pulse. But she could sense him, and she wanted to roll in him. Drown in him.
Then he did touch her, strong hands sliding over her back, under her legs. “Come on.”
She jerked away, disoriented that he was reaching for her from the right. The seat beside her was empty and the SUV was parked. “Where are we?”
“My house.” He lifted her in his arms and kicked the passenger door shut. “We’ve got to get you inside.”
The world dipped again, and color exploded behind her eyes. Dazzling greens and vivid golds twisted and danced as she hid her face against his throat with a not very human whimper.
Jay pressed his lips to her temple and another wave of heat washed over her.
Stroking. Coaxing. He was surrounding her, pushing in from all sides, and some foreign part of her pushed back. The forces collided at her skin and sparked lightning. She cried out and struggled in his arms, driven by the sudden urge to fight, to flee, to run.
Another door slammed, and Eden felt cool wood under her hands. Jay was still whispering, only this time his fingers moved busily, tugging open the buttons on her shirt.
Good. Her shirt was claustrophobic. Clutching, clinging fabric, trapping her in her body. Her fingers felt too clumsy, but his glided over the buttons, freeing one after another with a gentle rasp of fabric over plastic.
Patient. She had to be patient. But when he slipped his hands under the fabric to guide it down her arms, he leaned close enough to put the vulnerable expanse of his throat at risk.
Clumsy, arrogant male. Snarling, she lunged for him, intent on setting her teeth in his skin.
He stopped her short with a firm hand wound in her hair. “Bite me and I’ll spank you.”
She panted, sucking in short, sharp breaths that only served to drag his scent into her lungs. She’d never noticed it before, not really. Not enough to pick apart the clean smell of soap from the sharp undertones of his aftershave. And she’d never imagined the lower notes, the earth, the rain—like the wind when it ripped through town ahead of a bad storm. Wild nature, unchecked.
Seductive. She strained against his grip on her hair, yearning toward his throat with a different purpose now. To bury her face in the crook of his neck and wallow in that wildness, to rub her cheek against his skin so the intoxicating memory of it would linger after he was gone.
Instead of loosening his hold on her hair, he tugged her head back, baring the line of her throat. A brush of lips, almost like a kiss—and then he bit her.
She only had a moment to register the stinging pain of his teeth before satisfaction roared up to consume it. Every muscle in her body melted like warm taffy as the urge to fight him dissolved.
Quiet. So quiet. She almost remembered words. “Jay?”
“I’m here,” he rasped. “I’ve got you.” His hand dropped to her pants and pulled them open.
Human modesty slammed against the wall of madness, and she wriggled away with an alarmed noise. “What, why—”