"I think the word bossy should have been added to the bitch comment before."
"I haven't even begun to get bossy yet,” she warned, a grin teasing her lips. “So just sit down before I do."
She headed across the room and pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen. The diner, even with the blinds half pulled down, was filled with murky light that made seeing easy, but the kitchen itself was darker than hell. Even a wolf with the best night sight couldn't see squat in here. And the medical kit was across the far side of the kitchen, through a maze of counters, stoves and sinks. She fumbled for the light switch.
"Don't,” Cade said from directly behind her.
She jumped and spun around. “What the hell are you doing here?"
The doors swung shut behind him, cutting off the little bit of light filtering in from the kitchen and dropping them in total darkness. “Disobeying orders and following an enticing bit of tail."
"You should be resting that leg of yours.” She placed a hand on his chest to stop him moving closer. She might as well have tried to stop the moon from rising.
He caught her hand and pulled her against him. “It's only blood."
All that was visible in the sea of blackness was the devilish gleam in his eyes and the white flash of his teeth as he grinned. But she could feel him. Feel the warm hardness of his body pressed so intimately against hers. The race of his heart, as wild as her own.
At Rosehall, she couldn't have given a damn where they made love or who was watching, as long as they were together. That recklessness was inside her and rising fast.
He brushed a kiss across her lips, leaving them tingling as he added, “And the blood isn't fresh, if you take a closer look. The bleeding stopped when I shifted shape."
"I can hardly look when it's ink black and you're so close your belt buckle is digging into my belly."
He kept pressing her backward until her back hit something solid. One of the counters, she realized, as the chill of the metal pressed into her spine.
His grin was decidedly wicked as he released her hand then placed his on either side of her, neatly corralling her. “You sure it's a belt buckle?"
She was sure it wasn't. “You need that leg tended to."
"I have lots of needs that require tending. Some more urgent than others."
As if to emphasize his point, his mouth claimed hers. It wasn't the urgency-filled kiss she'd expected, but rather a slow and tender exploration that left breathless. Dizzy.
Or maybe that was a side effect caused by the spicy mix of his scent filling every ragged breath as he pulled away. She couldn't say for sure, and she didn't really care. Not when sweat formed where they touched, and the air was so thick with the heat of their desire that it seemed to burn like flames across her skin.
He kissed her chin, her neck, the caress of his breath against her skin almost cool compared to the heat melting her insides.
"I want you,” he said softly, his gaze somehow capturing hers in the darkness. Or maybe it was just the gleam of need, a need that was as fierce as the flames burning inside her. “Here, now."
It wasn't safe, she wanted to say. Wasn't sound. Her dad could walk in at any moment, and that would be nothing short of awkward. But the words not here wouldn't form on her lips. How could they, when every nerve ending was trembling for his touch, and the recklessness she'd buried so long had risen with a vengeance and would not be quieted? She wanted him, regardless of the situation or the consequences.
And it wasn't the moon or the fever. It was simply the man, and what he did to her. What he'd always done to her.
"Yes,” she said, her voice little more than a pant of air.
"Thank God."
"He had nothing to do with my decision."
He laughed softly and skimmed his hands down her sides. “Then thank you, Ms. Grant. I shall endeavor to make the experience a worthwhile one."
She kissed his nose as he tugged her shirt free of her pants. But as he moved to undo her buttons, she placed her hands on top of his, stopping him. “It occurs to me that since you're injured, I should be doing all the hard work."
He shook off her grip and continued undoing her shirt. “I don't believe in letting a woman do all the work."
She ran her hand down the muscular planes of his chest and stomach, enjoying the contrast of the silky material under her fingertips and the hardness just behind it. The contrasting coldness of his belt buckle as she leisurely undid it. “What if I promise to make it worthwhile?"
His fingers slipped under her bra and he cupped her br**sts in his big hands. A tremor ran through her and for a moment, she arched against him, pressing into his touch, savoring it.