Page 13 of Pack Nightmare

There’s only one description for the way she’s looking at me right now, and it makes every muscle in my body tighten as my pulse starts racing: Layla’s gaze is hungry.

Layla

I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but after tearing through the bookshelves like naughty kids evading a punishment, there’s only one thought on my mind when Landon whips around the corner.

The intense, burning need to kiss him.

We’re both panting lightly from our silent game of racing through the stacks, and when I reach up and tug his face down to mine, his breath is warm on my cheek. The electric sensation I’ve come to associate with my fated skitters across my skin, radiating from where our bodies touch outward and filling me with a growing sense of excitement. Instinctively, I rise to my toes to meet him, and my fingers thread through the short, silky hair at the back of his neck.

There’s a brief, tingling moment where his soulful eyes lock on mine, and it’s as if we’re waiting to find out who will make the first move. I can scarcely breathe; the air is so thick with anticipation it’s like my lungs are unable to draw it in.

Then, as if we’ve silently agreed, we both move forward as one.

Landon’s lips are soft and warm, and a light jolt of electricity passing between us the second we connect draws out the moment in a deliciously torturous way. He freezes on instinct, but as soon as I tighten my fingers on his neck, he kisses me in earnest.

At first its just gentle presses of his mouth against mine, and it’s warm and sweet and I breathe him in, enjoying the moment. The two of us, alone, kissing among the hidden stacks of books that rarely see a visitor.

But instinct soon takes over. Landon’s hands have hung limply by his side, but now they rise, long fingers splaying around my hips and drawing me against his body, igniting more of those delicious tingles. His head tilts, and he presses more firmly against me, seeking entrance to my mouth with his tongue while my arms wrap around his neck, drawing him even closer. My lips part to let him in, and the electric sensation heightens.

My heart is pounding now. I feel it battering against the cage of my chest while our kisses become even more frenzied.

As if he’s tired of bending down, Landon’s large hands grip my butt and lift me, pulling me tightly to his body as he swings around to set me on the low shelf he was leaning against seconds before. My legs wrap around his lean frame and hook together, squeezing him even tighter.

Now I’m closer to his height and the angle is much better for kissing. With his arms braced on the wall to either side, I press my chest to his, relishing the flood of sensations coursing over my skin. Even though we’re both wearing sweaters, the heat of his body leeches into mine, along with faint tingles that the fabric fails to stop. My hands clench in his baby-soft hair, tightening and tugging lightly. A low rumble sounds in Landon’s chest; it resonates through mine, and my heart rate climbs even higher in response. There’s something so wild, so animal about it, that my body responds viscerally, my movements growing more frantic. It’s a raw, feral side of Landon I’ve never seen. I’m starving for air, but at this moment I couldn’t pull my lips from his if I wanted to.

And I certainly don’t want to.

However, Landon chooses this moment to rip his mouth from mine, leaving me panting while he trails kisses along my jaw to my neck. His breath is hot and ragged, and every new contact sends a fresh course of trembles through my body. Heat ripples across my skin, building in my core and making me shift uncomfortably on my perch. My legs tighten and draw him even closer, the pressure where our bodies meet hot and irresistible. I can’t stop from rubbing myself against him.

The low growl in Landon’s throat grows louder, and he nips at my earlobe. “Layla,” he purrs in a deep, rough voice. “While this is super hot, I’m not sure I can do this a hundred percent while listening for approaching footsteps.”

He follows up that very practical sentiment by drawing my earlobe between his soft lips, then dragging it between his teeth, which nearly turns me into a puddle on the spot.

As if knowing I can’t help myself, Landon pulls in a deep, shuddering breath, then squeezes me against his chest. It forces me to draw in my own ragged gasps and try to shove the lustful animal that had come roaring out of me back into her cage. I wrap my arms around his waist and try to steady my breathing, Landon’s warm breath stirring my hair as he rests his chin on my head.

After a few moments we’ve calmed somewhat, although my pants are uncomfortably hot and my need for satisfaction has not abated. However, I have regained control of my body; at least enough that I’m not likely to pounce on him like a spider monkey and force my tongue down his throat.

I lean back and catch Landon’s gaze. His face is flushed, cheeks adorably pink with high spots of color, and his rich, soulful eyes swim with emotion as he gazes back at me.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly.

“Hi,” my response is equally shy in the wake of our sudden frenzy.

Deciding he needs me to take the lead, I reach up with both hands and grasp his face lightly, pulling him in for one more soft, chaste kiss. Then I smile. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Landon’s answering smile is brilliant, and I melt again, just a little. He helps me down from the shelf and when I intertwine my fingers with his, his grin widens. We take our time weaving our way out of the bookstore, stopping only to pick up the tattered hard cover of Sense & Sensibility that I’d dropped in our mad escape from the shopkeeper. I do my best to act completely innocent as we approach the front counter, but I’m sure we aren’t the first people to knock something over and make out in the back. Her suspicious gaze tells me as much while she scans the sticker. After I pay for the book—Landon tries to buy it for me, but I insist—we make our way back outside into the bright fall sunshine.

Tingles continue to course through my body, and I refuse to drop Landon’s hand.

Chapter Eight

Layla

After the rush of making out, it takes a while for the sexual tension thrumming in my veins to quiet down. Landon keeps his promise of showing me around town, and we stop into a few stores he frequents, as well as a few he clearly thinks I would like. He does well with the bookshop, followed by one selling fudge and other handmade treats, a new coffee place I’ve never been to, and an obvious tourist trap filled with kitschy, bear-themed merchandise that makes me giggle. But when he tugs me around a corner to a new storefront, I pull up short.

“Clothes?” I glance up at him in surprise, tugging on his arm. He hasn’t dropped my hand since we left the bookstore, and I’ve been enjoying the warm tingles.

Apparently, my face shows my opinion on the matter, because his hopeful expression drops.

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