Page 9 of Fenrir

What the hell was that?

The desire to howl made her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from doing it. Her spirit side went into overdrive, and she dropped her hands into her lap to keep him from seeing her nails lengthen and white hair begin to sprout on her arms.

She swallowed, trying to bring her senses to heel. “What… what’s your name?” she asked, trying to focus on something other than whatever was happening inside her.

He stared at her unblinkingly. “Fenrir.”

A shiver ran over her. Fenrir? As in the Wolf God Fenrir? No. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible, was it? Of course it was! Hell, she worked for Odin!

“Fenrir,” she repeated.

The glow in his eyes intensified, and he let out a shuddered breath before closing his eyes. “Say it again,” he whispered.

Her cheeks heated, but she couldn’t help herself. “Fenrir.”

A look of utter bliss overtook his features, and a moan escaped him so intimate that she had to fan herself. An ache started in her thighs and traversed up to her core making her body pulsate. Stop, stop, stop! She told herself. But her body and spirit refused to listen. Every fiber of her lit up like Time Square, and she couldn’t make it stop.

She squeezed her thighs together to find both them and her panties slick. She jumped to her feet, tipping her chair over.

His eyes flew open, and he pinned her with his gaze. He didn’t say anything, but the Alpha command in his gaze told her to stop, and she did for the first time ever.

How could he do that? Pin her with a look and make her obey? No one had ever been able to do that to her before. The thought sent a wave of intrigue and desire rippling through her. She liked the idea that he might be able to dominate her. And damn, did she want to submit to him.

Images invaded her mind. Images of his massive, hard body looming over her. Kissing her. Touching her. Taking her. Making her submit.

Her core clenched, and she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood to keep herself from jumping into his arms and attacking him.

Enough! You are the daughter of the Moon Goddess. You are not somebitch in heat.

Embarrassment flooded her, and she glanced around. She needed to get out. To get some air. To understand what was happening to her. “I… I… I have to go.”

Fenrir rose, blocking out the entire café behind him with his giant form.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I… nothing I just…” Just what?I just suddenly want to strip off the little I’m wearing so you can take me on the table?She got the feeling that was not what she should say.

She was no longer in control of herself, and it terrified her. Something was happening. Something between them. Something she didn’t understand. Just being near him was driving her insane. Her body was ready to throw itself on him of its own accord.

Fenrir moved slowly around the table as if trying not to startle her. He reached out, and the moment his calloused palm skimmed down her bare arm, fireworks lit up inside her, and heat pulsed inside her like she’d stepped into an inferno.

Fenrir’s gaze never left her face as he moved so close that her large breasts smashed against his hard-packed chest. She clenched her fists to keep from grabbing his shirt and assaulting his lips as he bent in to sniff her.

Grace froze as her body betrayed her, and the scent of her arousal met her nose.

Crap. Crap. Crap. What was wrong with her? She’d never wanted a man before. And sure as hell had never had one rile her up so much with a simple trail of his fingers. Not that she’d ever let a man touch her before. She’d kissed Toby Macintyre once, and it hadn’t done a thing for her. But this. The mere contact between them had her ready to drop to her knees and bare her ass to him.

“Hey,” someone called. “No touching. This isn’t that part of the date. It’s speed dating, the talking part only. It’s not speed makeout.”

Others around them chuckled, and mortification rained down on Grace. Could everyone smell and sense what was going on with her? The spell cocooning them popped like a balloon, and a sudden rush of embarrassment washed over her.

Fenrir looked at the man and growled. “Shut it.”

The moment his gaze broke from hers, Grace did the only thing she could think of. She turned and raced out of the café.

CHAPTER6

Fenrir glaredat the man who’d told him to get away from Grace, and when he turned back to her, she was gone. All except for her scent. The scent of jasmine, rain, and musk. Her musk. Her most intimate smell. The smell that was her at her core. A scent he wanted to bathe in for the rest of his life.

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