Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink. “It was just a dream.” She shook her head, breathing heavy.
“Not just a dream,” he corrected and brushed his lips against hers. “It’s called dreamsharing. There’s a difference.”
“Dreamsharing?”
Lights appeared down the road and he pulled away. In seconds he had the passenger door open and his mate seated in the car. She brought her trembling hands together in her lap, shifting from side to side.
“I’ll explain everything. You have my word. I just need you to trust me, Chloe. Give me a chance to tell you why you feel the way you do. There’s a reason you found me.”
“I just came here for a tattoo. I need to call a cab and go home.”
Fucking hell. “If you want a tattoo I’ll give you one. And if you want to go home after we’ve talked, I’ll take you. Right now we have to go. Do you understand? We can’t stay here.”
He slammed the door closed and rushed around the car. Panic made him think she’d bolt. Thankfully she didn’t, remaining safely inside the car. The headlights down the road weren’t far away now. Declan’s client was probably going to pull into the lot within seconds.
“You promise to take me home? You’re not going to do anything I don’t want?”
“Baby, if that’s what it takes to get you to listen to me, I give you my fucking word.” He removed the keys from his pocket and shoved them in the ignition. Time was ticking down. Each second created another risk he wasn’t ready to take. “Now buckle your seat belt. We’re getting out of here.”
To his immense relief, she did as he asked. He managed to put the car in reverse and pull onto the road just as a car slowed down and stopped in front of his building. Despite his enhanced vision, he couldn’t see through the tinted windows to identify who it was.
Worry about that shit later.
He put the car in gear and hit the gas, shifting in his seat, trying to get comfortable as he rushed from the shop. His board-stiff cock strained against his pants, his heart hammering a dent in his chest. Another minute and he’d have had to explain the situation to Chloe with witnesses to cement the deal. Not something he was keen on. Thank God she’d listened and didn’t try to run. At least now he had a leg to stand on.
Talk about cutting shit close.
Chapter Two
I’ve officially lost my mind.
What in the world had possessed her to get into the car and drive to Jackson’s home? Why hadn’t she fought? Why had she sat quietly without questioning his motives? It hadn’t taken long—no more than ten minutes—to make the trip. But during that time she’d found it hard to concentrate. His enticing cologne seemed so much more powerful in the confines in the car, wrapping around her like a comforting cloud and making everything hazy.
Hazy. Now there was a word to describe how she felt.
From the moment he’d touched her at the tattoo parlor, nothing had made sense. It was as if something had come to life inside her, taking over rational thought. She’d wanted to argue or deny what she experienced but couldn’t formulate the words. All she could think about was how wonderful he smelled, how amazing his fingers felt against her skin.
How delicious he would taste.
The dampness in her panties increased as she stepped past the threshold into his home. It was impossible to think clearly when she visualized the dream he’d mentioned. They’d touched each other before, using their hands to give each other pleasure, but they’d never used their mouths. Until he’d challenged her, daring her to get on her knees and suck his cock. She’d balked at first, embarrassed at the thought. Then she remembered it was only a dream. She could become unleashed. Lust had taken over and she’d given him exactly what he asked for.
Heat rushed through her bloodstream like liquid fire at the remembrance.
She’d sucked and licked, finding that she wanted more of his taste in her mouth, anxious to feel him surrender to his desire. There wasn’t enough—not nearly enough. He’d groaned in pleasure but stayed still, allowing her to take her time and explore. Just before the dream had ended he’d promised to do the same to her. Just thinking about it had gotten her soaking wet.
He’d growled and started pumping into her mouth, telling her to get ready…
She’d woken writhing and sweaty, so close to climax she could almost taste it. He’d been venturing to the land below, his teeth raking against her skin, when her eyes opened and she greeted a new day. That was the last dream she’d had of him. She went to bed each night hoping for his return, only to wake horny and unsatisfied the next morning.
Now he was here—walking, breathing and very much real.
Jackson swept past her into his home. She admired his form as he strode by the living room and vanished around the corner. The place definitely belonged to a man. The flooring was dark wood with rugs throughout, the furniture made of black leather. A large plasma television was mounted on the far wall, enormous speakers bolted on each side of the room.
He reappeared with beer bottles in each hand. She took the one he extended to her, trying to get her hormones under control. He’d said he’d give her answers and explain what was taking place. For some strange reason, she did trust him. Who was she kidding? A part of her recognized him, even if it made no sense whatsoever. Everything that had transpired between them had been real.
They were dreams but weren’t.
How in the hell is that even possible?
He lifted the beer to his lips and she quickly did the same. The tang of the beverage hit her tongue, the flavor strong and somewhat bitter. She forced the drink down and lowered the bottle, staring at Jackson in disbelief. He didn’t stop drinking, his throat constricting with each swallow, until the bottle was empty. She gawked, unable to focus on anything but him. Another wave of heat rushed through her, making her lightheaded.
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to give you what I promised, Chloe girl.” He lowered his hand and growled, gold eyes sweeping over her. “I’m trying real hard to be a gentleman but you’re testing my control.”
“I…” She tried to think of something to say, realizing she was alone with this gargantuan man inside his home. He could do anything he wanted and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not to mention he was a werewolf.
Not smart. Not smart at all.
“I think the best way to go about this is to tell you straight.” He met her gaze. “Give me your hand.”
She wasn’t sure which he wanted until he reached for her left wrist—the wrist with the birthmark. Before she could stop him he’d shoved her jacket back, revealing the crescent shape.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but I think you wanted a tattoo right here. Over this mark.”
Shit. How did he know that?
“Maybe,” she hedged, scrambling for the right thing to say. “Maybe not.”
His eyes slitted and he growled, “Don’t lie to me.”
“So what if I did?” Trying to feign indifference was impossible. The space felt too small with him in front of her. “It’s just a birthmark.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not just a birthmark. It’s the mark all wolves carry when they’re born. This means one of your parents is were,” he said and swept his thumb across the skin.
She clenched her teeth, trying not to groan. For the first time the mark didn’t burn. If anything his touch alleviated the sting, making the damn thing hum. A shiver ran through her, electric tingles starting where he touched and sweeping up her arm.