Page 25 of Wolf Tamer

I’m in Reid’s room and the bed is even more massive than I once thought. This doesn’t bode well. The others are going to know he’s keeping me close, and it isn’t for any kind of punishment. Not the kind they’ll surely think I deserve.

Either way, he’s not here now.

Shaking my head, more to test whether I can than anything else, I slide my feet down to the floor, wiggling my toes on the plush rug beneath me. Nothing broken, no. I’m still in my bra and panties, but that gives me a good look at myself and the cuts and bruises marking up my skin.

Not pretty, but at least I’m still alive. A little food and I’ll feel better. I’ll just avoid standing in front of a mirror naked again at all costs.

Reid needs a bell in here so that I can ring it and have breakfast in bed brought to me. Yeah, if I want the rest of his wolves to stick a knife in my back. Because they’re not likely to take kindly to me after bolting. The reasons for the escape don’t matter when I compare them to the story we concocted about my presence.

None of the others know the truth about me.

Which brings me back to Reid’s talk about public punishment, and I find myself scowling at my toes.

Nope, there’s time for that later. After I shower the dirt and grime and…ugh, ash off me. A sniff brings me the less than intoxicating scent of old smoke and char.

And I bet the man’s got an even bigger shower than I do.

A shower large enough to match the size of the bed.

My legs are hardly able to keep me up as I stumble into the bathroom, hobbled over like some kind of newborn fawn, or maybe a woman approaching her centennial birthday—it can go either way.

I’m right about the bathroom. Marble floors span out in the direction of a circular shower, and I gawk at the thing, like some kind of goddamn tower in the middle of a bathroom and made of horizontal white tile stretching to the ceiling. There’s a tub as well, large enough for three of me to soak comfortably without touching, and a double vanity longer than the width of my entire motel room.

Who even needs this much space? Honestly?

Not that I’m not grateful for an opportunity to bask in the glitz of it all, but I’ve got to wonder. So this is the luxurious life of an alpha wolf. I have to admit, with at least five different soaps and an actual bench in the shower, it’s a pretty sweet gig. The shower portion, at least.

It doesn’t take me much convincing, and before I know it, I’m out of my undergarments, turning on the tap, and stepping inside. I lounge for the longest time, letting the hot water pound down on top of my head, and wonder how I’ve made it to this rather strange place in my life with all of my limbs intact. Maybe if I sit here until I prune, it will give me enough time to think of a way out of the punishment bit I know is waiting for me.

A little sweet talk might make Reid less inclined to go through with it, but I know that won’t be fair for him. He has an image to maintain and an entire pack of wolves to try and wrangle. They’ll be looking for something specific, and if we don’t adhere to their strict rules, that will cause trouble for Reid down the road.

I don’t envy him one ounce for his position, no matter what kind of power comes along with it.

Powerandresponsibility, whereas I’ve lived my life responsible only for myself and my sister. No strings attached. No pretenses.

No keeping up appearances.

And now here I am, having to play a part for Reidagain, and even though it feels like everything has changed, we’re having a full-circle moment.

I nearly jump out of my skin with a screech when a hand rubs soap in gentle circles on my shoulders.

“You really must be out of it,” Reid says gently, stepping fully into the spray wearing nothing but his boxers. “You didn’t hear me come in.”

I shake my head and bend down to give him better access to those hard-to-reach spots. “I’m lost in my own thoughts, I guess. There’s just too much circling around in my brain.”

Watching the soap spiral down the drain, I wish it were that easy to rid myself of some of those cumbersome thoughts. Just send them packing, never to be seen again.

But now that he’s here, I want him to keep scrubbing. Between his touch and the boiling hot water, a girl can really lose herself to this kind of treatment. What’s better?

There’s just something about the way he touches me that’s like an out-of-body experience.

It’s never been this good with anyone else. I mean, I’ve got limited experience to go on and a sprinkling of one-night stands better left in the rearview mirror, but I know enough to realize that things with Reid are different.

Which of course, I can never tell him. Otherwise, he’ll hold it over my head. It’s bad enough those witches got me talking about my feelings for him before I was ready. If the man in question ever finds out that I want him for more than the pleasures he provides with his body…

He’ll never let me hear the end of it.

He’ll also never let me leave, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of life-altering proposition yet.

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