Page 62 of The Heat of Us

I still wasn’t sure he was real.

“Ok.”

Ben seemed startled by that. “Ok?” he repeated.

I flicked his arm. “Don’t make me say it again.”

He made a motion like he was going to pick me up.

“Ben, just…normally, please!” I pushed my palm against his chest which was surprisingly sturdy and hard.

“Sorry, I just feel like my brain and instincts are pulling me in two different directions somehow. Just…let me hold you for a second.” He engulfed me in a big hug.

“Feed the non-crazy wolf inside you, please,” I said dryly, patting his shoulder. But I held him tightly against me, getting the full brunt of his new alpha scent for the first time since that night on the balcony. Liquid dark chocolate drizzling down my chest, sliding off the curves of my breasts. A low groan before my nipple was sucked into a warm mouth, tongue flicking out to taste me.

“Hazel, I’m getting you the fuck out of here. Right now.”

His hand was in mine and I let him guide me out of the gym in a daze. The fresh air cleared the fog from my brain and I could think again.

“Shit, your scent is like a fucking stimulant injection of horniness.”

“Yeah well, feeling’s mutual, sweetness.”

The elevator ride up was suffocating.

“I didn’t bring you up here for that, Hazel.”

His black eyes and the way the muscle tensed in his braced forearms said otherwise. He guided me down the hall with one hand on the small of my back and indicated which door was his with a nod of his head.

“What did you bring me up here for, then?” I asked, turning and leaning against his front door. Ben drew close, his body caging me in.

“To sleep.”

Then he turned the knob and only his arm around my waist stopped me from falling on my ass inside his apartment.

I walked purposefully through his place, intent on finding the bedroom. It was stark, with no real sense of personality apart from a plant with a bow on it that I was pretty sure had come from Juno. Ben was right there beside me, turning and redirecting me whenever I headed in the wrong direction.

“If you think I’m sleeping when I’m feeling this fucking wired—”

Straight then left. Right into the laundry. Hands on my hips guided me down another corridor.

“I will wind you down and you will sleep.”

His bedroom door flung open and the last thing on my list of bed activities was sleep.

“I’d like to see you try.”

He disappeared into what I assumed was a walk-in robe.

“Get out of your clothes.”

“Finally.”

A t-shirt landed on my face. It smelled like clean laundry and nothing like chocolate sex.

“And put these on.” A pair of men’s pyjama shorts flew out at me.

I pushed my leggings down. “You’re not going to help?”

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