It had worked, but Adam had felt like he was betraying me, believed I'd hate him for it.
But he'd done it anyway.
I figured it was because he wasn't lying when he said he loved me.
When I'd hidden in shame--I put that down to the fairy brew, because I knew ...
I knew I had nothing to be ashamed about-- he'd pulled my coyote self out from under his bed, bitten my nose for being foolish, and held me all night long.
Then he'd surrounded me with his pack and safety whether I needed it or not.
Tim was dead.
And he'd always been a loser.
I'd be damned if I was going to be the victim of a loser--or anyone else.
"Mercy?" Adam stayed on his back on my bed, taking the position of vulnerability.
In answer, I pulled the T-shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor.
Adam was off the bed faster than I'd ever seen him move, bringing the comforter with him.
He had it wrapped around me before I could blink ...
and then I was pressed tightly against him, my bare breasts resting against his chest.
He'd tipped his head to the side so my face was pressed against his jaw and cheek.
"I meant to get the blanket between us," he said tightly.
His heart pounded against mine, and his arms were shaking and rock hard.
"I didn't mean you had to sleep with me right now--a simple `yes' would have done." I knew he was aroused--even a regular person without a coyote nose would have known it.
I slid my hands up from his hips to his hard belly and up his ribs and listened to his heart rate pick up even further and a light sweat broke out on his jaw under my slow caress.
I could feel the muscles in his cheek move as he clenched his teeth, felt the heat that flushed his skin.
I blew in his ear, and he jumped away from me as though I'd stuck him with a cattle prod.
Streaks of amber lit his eyes, and his lips were fuller, redder.
I dropped the comforter on top of my shirt.
"Damn it, Mercy." He didn't like to swear in front of women.
I always counted it a personal triumph when I could make him do it.
"It hasn't even been a week since you were raped.
I'm not sleeping with you until you've talked to someone, a counselor, a psychologist." "I'm fine," I said, though in fact, once distance had released me from the safety he brought with him, I was aware of a sick churning in my stomach.
Adam turned so he was facing the window, his back to me.
"No, you're not.
Remember, you can't lie to a wolf, love." He let out a breath of air too forcefully to be a sigh.