Page 3 of Moonlighting with the Werewolf

The man’s ghastly pale skin gaped open in gruesome, ragged holes, the macabre scene straight out of a horror movie.

Holy shit,are the wounds knitting themselves together?Too afraid to look away, I merely blinked, blinked, blinked. With every flutter of my eyelashes, more invisible stitches tugged muscles and sinew closed, until all of his outside business returned to being inside.

The man who’d materialized in place of the giant wolf groaned, and I backpedaled in the direction of the door. Halfway there, my foot slipped in one of the many puddles of gore, and then I was free falling, my arms flailing like a baby bird’s untested wings as I attempted to find purchase.

A jolt wrenched my spine as my butt hit the floor, and as if that didn’t hurt badly enough, my head smacked the cabinet behind me as I slid into a crumpled marionette position. I gasped for air as sparks of light superimposed themselves over the impossible scene. “This can’t be happening. I’m still asleep.” I pinched my leg. “Wake up, wake up,wake up.”

“I’m working on it,” came a deep, husky voice, and I froze. What a spectacular time to discover my instincts leaned toward prey rather than predator.

Thick, muscular legs swung off the table, and it didn’t speak well to my mental state that instead of leaping to my feet and fleeing, heat flooded me. Defined calf muscles led to ropy, hairy thighs, rippling abs, and pec muscles so large I suddenly understood motorboating.

Large, non-lupine feet hit the blood-smeared floor, and then the guy who’d inexplicably showed up on my operating table slowly stood, looming over me. His eyes gleamed gold, and with fear holding me hostage, I figured I might as well look my fill.

As someone with a healthy appreciation of anatomy, I could list off every muscle, all those dips and curves showcasing where each one ended and another began. Mr. Wolfie was put togetherlike a Russian boxer, which was a thing I knew about because I’d seen a lot ofRockymovies in my day. Those flicks were legit romances disguised as dude movies. And as a gal who often slept alone, they’d served for inspiration on many an occasion.

Which was probably why a rush of anticipation streaked through my core.Wow, I must be hard up if I can go from horrified to horny in two seconds flat.

He took a step in my direction but wobbled and braced a hand on the counter. His forehead crinkled, and he dazedly shook his head.

“Please,” I said, the two chapters of survival tricks I’d read doing jack and shit. “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here, but?—”

“Don’t bite you?” he finished for me, and the fucker had the audacity to flash me a crooked, smug smile. My belly got in on the mutiny my dirty thoughts had started, heat pooling low and spreading throughout my entire body as the biggest cock I’d ever seen dangled a few inches above my head.

How could I be thinking about how hung he was right now?

How could I not?

“Don’t worry. I don’t bite the hand that saves me.” He extended his open palm, and I simply stared, unable to budge from my prone position. Why was this happening to me? A question suited for one of those damsel-in-distress types, and believe me, I wasn’t happy about it, but was I seriously supposed to be cool and composed right now?

For the past hour, I’d been treating an injured wolf. Now there was this sexy beast of a man in its place, and why couldn’t I have gone insanebeforeI’d spent all those hours cramming in med school?

In an attempt to reconciliate the ludicrousness of the situation, I searched his body for bullet wounds. Instead of finding the correlating puckered scars comforting, dizziness setin. I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass out or puke. Knowing my luck, I’d puke and then pass out in the regurgitated mess. As long as I came to anywhere but here—or say, some torture dungeon— I’d take it.

“There weren’t werewolves,” I said. On the bright side, my tongue was functioning, even if the result was subpar at best.

“Don’t you mean that there aren’t supposed to be werewolves?” Again with that quirk at the corner of his mouth, as if I were amusing instead of losing my mind.

I adamantly shook my head. “On the sign welcoming people to town. There were aliens, ghosts, and Bigfoot. And yeah, you have big feet, but you’re not actual Bigfoot.”

The other corner of his mouth got in on his smile, and under about any other circumstances, my panties might’ve melted right off me. Okay, maybe they were melting the tiniest bit, regardless. “Let me get this straight. You’re not upset that werewolves exist, but that the town sign didn’t warn you?”

Exasperation pitched my voice higher. “Yes. No. I mean...” My shoulders sagged, and since I couldn’t keep my eyes from fixating on his junk, I held up a hand and twisted it sideways to block as much of it as I could from my view. “Honestly, I don’t know. But if you’ll give me two shakes of a lamb’s tail to recover from my shock, I’ll get off my ass and check your vitals.”

CHAPTER THREE

Since the womanhadsaved my life, I was doing my damnedest not to mock thattwo shakes of a lamb’s tailcomment.

Or the fact that every time I moved the slightest bit, her hand followed along with me, as if she were trying to preserve my sense of modesty. Hard to preserve something that didn’t exist. Constantly shifting meant you got used to ruining clothes and people seeing you naked. Some of my friends gave me shit about being an exhibitionist, but they were just jealous they didn’t have as much to display—enough that her small hand wasn’t up to the task, that was for sure.

Finally, she seemed to register my outstretched arm as a friendly gesture and slipped her palm into mine. Wooziness set in, and for a mortifying second, I worried I wouldn’t be able to lift this slip of a woman off the floor. I dug down deep, summoned my drowsy strength, and tugged her to her feet.

I swayed from the expended effort, and then she was the one attempting to prop me up.

“You should get out of the way,” I said, “because if I fall, I’ll crush you. And believe it or not, I’m gentleman enough to at least get a name before I smash and dash.”

Her brow crinkled as if she couldn’t tell whether or not that was a joke, and not even I was entirely sure. The fuzziness came in waves.

I scratched the side of my head. “Did you drug me?”

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