When Hazel was able to see him and the scissors were away from her head, she started punching him again.

  “Was this your plan? Is this how you handle having your number blocked?” She backed up and put her hands in her hair. “My hair is screwed, and you let me get felt up by my ex? What kind of evil bastard are you?”

  Wolf liked her mad. Which wasn’t even cool, he knew. But the way her face was flushed and her eyes flashed at him was alluring. He had to make her understand that he would never put a woman in that position, least of all her, but instead he watched her struggle with the knot in her hair.

  She finally stopped trying and let her hands fall to her sides. The anger shifted into hurt and disappointment as her eyes filled with moisture.

  Wolf put the scissors back on his desk. “Did you come here to be put on a date?”

  She rolled her eyes and flared her nostrils. “No! By everything that is holy, I got my money back, I’m done. I was here to help Claire and Chance pick out a cake flavor. I didn’t even know it was date night. When I tried to leave, I got wrapped in a blindfold and Scott honked my boobs. I really feel like this might be a waking nightmare.”

  “Do you want me to go out there and beat him up?” Wolf offered the only thing his jealously could think of.

  “No. Dickhead. I want you to beat you up.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And Claire said you wouldn’t even be here.”

  “Is that what you want? To not run into me?” Wolf leaned against the desk, not advancing on her and kissing her until her anger turned to lust.

  “I don’t know what to make of you. Or any of this deception.” She gave a sigh that kind of said it all. She was frustrated.

  “I’m not trying to deceive you.” He waited until her eyes were on his. The connection between them was hot. It was undeniable. Maybe even predestined.

  “My head tells me you’re up to no good. And I’m terrified that I doubt that. What are you even?” Her clear blue eyes searched his.

  Her change from feisty and struggling to serious made him feel even guiltier for enjoying her anger.

  “I’m into you.” He shrugged. That seemed like the safest way to tell her she was literally on his mind every damn second. And that the second he saw Scott touch her, he became a murdering caveman. She had no idea that with the flick of her pretty little finger, he would go out there and decimate the guy, which would lead to his first trip to jail and the demise of his business.

  But if she teared up over Scott, it was going down.

  “I wouldn’t trick you into hanging with him. Ever.” Wolf pushed away from the edge of the desk and took a few steps toward her.

  She took a step backward. “Well, I didn’t come here to go on a date. And I was a little disappointed I wouldn’t see you. Why are you back so soon?”

  She still had her arms crossed in front of her chest, so he was still close to tipping off the edge of sanity for her. If Scott had hurt her…

  “Are you okay”—he gestured to her chest—“there?”

  She looked down. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just embarrassed.”

  That was good enough for Wolf. It was time to kill Scott. He turned to head out of the office, and the only thing that could stop him was her hand on his bicep.

  “Don’t. It wasn’t on purpose.”

  He looked back at her. She was devastating tonight. The makeup, the outfit. It was all amazing. Well, except for the giant knot and blindfold caught in her long hair.

  “I’m not sure I care about his intentions. It was the fact that it happened.” He looked down at her hand, and she removed it.

  He could almost see the decision to change the topic in order to divert his anger happen in her head.

  “Why did you come back tonight? Were you tasting the cake, too?”

  His dirty mind went wild. And by cake she meant, well, her lady cake—in his imagination, anyway.

  “No. The venue wasn’t handicapped accessible. That doesn’t work for us. They don’t get my money if they don’t have a way for people with mobility issues to participate. Now, I have about two weeks to find a new spot to bring the tour and update all the applicants and vendors.” Wolf wanted to hug her. And kiss the top of her head. And take her to the lobby and dry hump her while Scott was made to watch with his eyes taped open.

  None of those things were happening now, but he got to watch the surprise register in her eyes. “Wow. That’s… cool of you.”

  He ran a hand down his face instead of touching hers the way he wanted to. “My sister couldn’t have visited that place if she were still with us. So they have to deal with their own choices. Booty Camp puts places on the map. I’m not giving them publicity if they don’t have a good setup for everyone.”

  She lapsed back into the professional she was. “I always have to investigate that before I take my kids on class trips anywhere. They get super disappointed when they don’t get to the stuff the other kids get to do because there is no way for them to get into a building.”

  Wolf nodded. This was obviously common sense that not everyone possessed.

  The silence between them became loud as they seemed to realize at the same time that a core belief they shared matched up. Common ground beyond the obvious physical attraction.

  “You’re different than I thought you were. Maybe. I have concerns.” Her defenses had fallen just a little. The soft part of her that he could see now was even more compelling than her anger.

  He risked another step in her direction.

  She put up her hand to ward him off. “I think I need a breather. From you. From this.” Hazel touched her lips before continuing. “I can’t have a fling with you. Because of the way you give me butterflies and kiss me better than I’ve ever been kissed.”

  Wolf watched as she took the risk of telling him that she was afraid she liked it all too much. He had the same fear.

  She continued, “And you need to respect these things. Please don’t use me as a layover during Booty Camp.”

  Wolf took a step back. And he knew she would think he was admitting her fears were true, not that he had those same ones.

  He was cursed to not find a match. Hazel was just another cruel reminder that he’d exploited the family talent to make money. He believed in karma, and walking to the office door and accepting that she was leaving was his way of allowing karma to have her way with him.

  Hazel, her hair a wreck in the back as she left his office, cuddled herself as if he’d hurt her worse than Scott had.

  The minute he closed the door behind her, he knew he’d made a horrible mistake.

  Chapter 28

  Him Again

  Hazel left, satisfied she was in a good place in her head. She’d stood up for her heart and the way Wolf made her feel. She didn’t want to take a chance to get hurt again. She couldn’t be a booty call for the Booty Camp owner. It would be too personal. It would be the kind of thing that would shape how she felt about men—hell, it had already done that.

  Hazel neatened up the living room while repeating her arguments out loud to the empty room. She was heading to her bedroom to change into her pajamas when her intercom buzzed.

  She knew it would be Wolf. Before she even heard his voice. She hit the button. “Yeah?”

  “It’s me.”

  Deep voice. She pictured him breathing the words into the speaker below.

  She hit the unlock button and unlocked her front door, waiting for him by it.

  It would lead to sex. There was no doubt about it. She couldn’t trust herself in an apartment alone with him.

  She argued with herself while she waited. She was young and allowed to experiment. He was hot as the goddamned sun and the worst crush she’d ever had. And lastly, he’d broken her hope so much in the short time they'd known each other, she felt like she had practice. All her realizations of just a few minutes ago crashed and burned. He’d come for her.

  A soft knock put her into motion. She peeked through the peephole. B
ut it was Scott, not Wolf.

  She questioned her sanity. Scott would never ring the intercom. Hazel opened the door.

  “Scott. What are you doing here?”

  The elevator sounded as the doors open. Wolf stepped into the hallway. Black jacket, dark jeans, a goddamned scarf, and a ball cap pulled low.

  He lifted his chin and looked at Scott.

  Hazel expected Wolf to get angry. Or accuse her of baiting him somehow.

  Instead he walked right up to her, put his hands on her face, and kissed her deeply.

  Scott made a shocked noise.

  Wolf reached out a hand and grabbed Scott’s flannel shirt. He stopped kissing Hazel just long enough to say, “Leave,” to Scott before stepping on either side of Hazel’s body to walk her back into the apartment.

  He slammed the door behind them and began kissing her again. His mouth tasted like beer in a manly way.

  She pushed back a little. “Hello to you, too.”

  Wolf pointed at the door. “Does he have a key?”

  She shook her head.

  Wolf was on her again, pushing her until she was lying back on the couch.

  Hazel had to wait to address him until he was nuzzling her breasts through her white sweater.

  “So you just come in here?”

  That question made him look up. The look in his eyes was ravenous.

  “You would never have let me in if you didn’t want me inside your body.” He ran his hand down her side, gripping her thigh when he got there.

  “Oh, fuck it.” Hazel hooked her legs around his waist and pulled him against her. “Kiss me more.”

  His eyes narrowed. He took her request seriously. “Sit up.” He made sure he wasn’t pinning her down so she could do as she was told.

  Wolf straddled her, and he kissed her, just kissed her, not letting her use her hands on him. Her jaw, her cheek, her ear, the hollow of her neck. He took forever nipping, never wet, just enough.

  She’d never been kissed in a way that was this sexy before. The cologne he had on, just a hint that was wrapped in the fabric of his black shirt—she could feel it becoming iconic in her memory right at that moment.

  Her mouth, he kissed her mouth, and by then he could have had anything he wanted from her body, but he only wanted her lips. He freed one of her hands so he could wrap his fist around her hair and use it to gently guide her head.

  Her free hand was not shy.

  First the jacket. She forced him to take off the one sleeve that wasn’t on his busy hand. He stopped holding her wrist captive enough to let the material slide down and off. But he wouldn’t let go of her hair.

  The only thing that made him hesitate was when she searched for his dick. He inhaled and his eyes widened before he went back to her mouth.

  When he was kissing her neck again, she whispered, “I think I owe you. For the dressing room.

  He stopped and sat back. “Never say you owe me. You are a fucking gift. Every time you let me touch you. Remember that.”

  Fierce. He seemed determined for her to know he thought highly of her. He wanted to use both of his hands on her, so she was able to feel him. His hard chest, his strong biceps.

  She kissed him back, taking a cue from his playbook. Hazel focused all her time on his lips and face. His neck was delicious. He had a bit of five o’clock shadow, so she ran the tip of her tongue over that.

  She was breathless with his attention; he’d added her breasts to his choreography.

  She began moaning when he touched her hypersensitive nipples.

  Hazel had screwed a few boyfriends before. This was nothing like that. He shrugged off his jacket.

  She was able to push his shirt aside so she could feel his skin and indents of muscle. She ran her fingers over his nipples, slid her hands behind his back, and leaning forward so she could see the muscles there move as he worked at bringing her an experience.

  Wolf stopped. “Can I take you to the bedroom?”

  She made a noise that wasn’t a word, but an affirmation.

  Her grabbed her hair into a ponytail and stood, encouraging her gently to walk next to him with his other arm around her waist.

  It was the slowest pace ever because Wolf was taking time to kiss her more, to feel the parts of her that sitting on the couch had protected.

  In the haze of her almost frenzied need for him, she realized it was a skill. This thing he was doing to her, exciting all the parts of her body. He treated her lower back as if it was the most sensual place on her body until, of course, his mouth brought her attention back to the sensitive part of her neck.

  After all the time in the world—in which he never touched her between her legs—he told her to crawl onto her bed.

  Hazel got on all fours and started toward the middle when she felt his weight on the bed. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her so she was on just her knees, her back against his chest. The kissing never stopped. He could kiss her until she died. He was so goddamned good at it.

  He had both hands on her breasts, sliding underneath her shirt but still on top of her bra. He used his thumbs on her nipples—just her nipples. She reached behind her to find a part of him to caress. The best she could do was his ass.

  He paused to pull her shirt off. She had on a thin, pink bra. It was comfortable, but still cute, and then he had her locked against his chest, both still on their knees.

  Her throat was dry. He had no intention of going faster. He flipped her onto her back, and she looked up at him from the bed. He knew how to manhandle a woman, and she tried not to be jealous of all the women that came before her.

  He didn’t give her time to do anything but feel, pulling the cups of her bra low so that her nipples were there for him. No words, just his hands. He fondled just her nipples for eternity. Thumbed them, pinched them, and added his teeth first to one and then the other.

  She was writhing under him, and he kept blocking her from touching him.

  Next was the full breast groping, interspersed with the nipple play. The buildup of heat between her legs for him was almost unbearable.

  She was still half dressed. He still had on his shirt. And pants.

  He might actually kill her.

  “I want to see you. While you do this.” She'd wanted to say it, but she panted it instead.

  A little bit of a smirk brought out his dimple, and he pulled off his shirt for her.

  He seemed to have a plan for her, but she stopped him with her palm. “Put your skin on mine.”

  The smirk dropped and the appreciation he regarded her with almost made her tear up.

  She opened her arms to him.

  XOXOXOXO

  Wolf looked at her open arms and saw all that she was. Being asked to hold her was not something he deserved. Surely there were great guys out there who deserved to feel her.

  Sex was one thing, but her energy was hitting him at a million miles an hour. It was staggering. She was letting him in.

  He saw her fall in love with him. Right then, he watched a pink glow mix with her normal, goldish hue. He didn’t feel worthy of her, but he couldn’t say no.

  He slowly climbed on top of her, and her arms came around him before rubbing his back.

  He buried his face in her hair. Her energy surrounded him. And if he was inside of her, it might even fill him up.

  There was contentment in her sigh. For a person like her, giving was how she received what mattered most.

  He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for letting me in tonight.”

  She smiled, and his heart jumped off the cliff it had been standing on.

  He needed her then; his plan to make her beg for him was abandoned. Wolf was desperate to get there before the energy shifted.

  He stood from the bed and removed the rest of his clothes. Hazel started clapping, making him laugh. He tugged on her jeans, and she helped him wiggle them off of her. And then he had her on her bed, naked as she should be. It was better than he hoped it would be. And the doo
r was locked. No one was going to walk in on them. He had her for as long as she would let him.

  He ran a hand from her shoulder to her belly to her sex. Her pussy should be cast in gold and hung on a damn wall. It was art. She was obviously a regular waxer, which wasn’t necessary, but damn if the thought of her making sure it was maintained made him even harder.

  She bent her knees and spread her legs.

  For him.

  Wolf was presented with two very, very beautiful possibilities. To lick her or put himself in her. It was the selfish part of him, the part that wanted to see if her energy would be his as well if they were connected, that made the decisions for him.

  Wolf almost forgot himself before digging in the pocket of his discarded pants for the condom he'd put there. She sat up, legs still spread to urge him on.

  He smiled at her rush to feel what he wanted to feel, as well.

  He got back on the bed and between her legs. He would have her under him first because he had to see her eyes when they were together in this dirty, beautiful way.

  Wolf moved forward until he was lined up with the part of her that would change everything between them. They locked eyes as he slowly slid inside her.

  She groaned, so involved in her passion that she was ready for all of him even though he hadn’t even touched her pussy yet. She lifted her hips and insisted on adding to the rhythm he was slowly trying to create.

  He saw white for a second and then she was clear again. He had no way to explain her energy, color-wise. But there was a personalization now. Her energy was clearly his.

  Mine. Ours. This. Now.

  She pulled him down so that he was lying on top of her. In the most mundane of the sex positions, she was heaven. He could kiss her lips and inhale the scent at the base of her neck that was uniquely her.

  Sex was sin—in his head, in his balls—just like he imagined it was for every guy, everywhere. Until now. Until her. It was a connection so graceful and dazzling he realized she’d changed this thing for him. It went from a release to a foundation.