Page 27 of Taming the Wicked Wolf

He watches me and lifts the beer bottle to his lips, taking a swig.

I sigh and roll my eyes, drinking from mine to Carly Beth’s raucous applause, while Silas continues to pin me with his gaze.

It’s the first time I’ve taken a drink in over half an hour, which has me feeling a little pathetic. I’m not trying to compare myself to a 237-year-old demon, but my best friend and coworker is nearly ten years younger and already has so much more experience than I do.

When I was her age, I was barely out of college and working two jobs. Most of my friendships kind of fell away after I starteddating Chase, since I let him take up my entire world. I wonder how drunk I would be right now if I never met him, but I also wouldn’t be sitting next to this gorgeous wolf demon or have half of the experiences I’ve crossed off my list tonight.

“Silas is such a good friend tagging along with us all the way to Madison.” She says, leaning down and drinking out of the brightly colored straw.

“He is.” I swallow, feeling his attention heavy against my skin, the nudge of his knee against my thigh nearly making me jump.

The music shifts and Carly Beth jumps up at the first few chords of a familiar melody, squealing, “It’s my song! C’mon, Emilia.” She reaches out, grabbing for my hand.

“I love you to pieces, Carly Beth, but I need to sit this one out.”

"Okay," she says, glancing over at Silas, "Well, I'm going to go dance." She pushes away from the table, singing along with the song and swaying her hips in time with the beat as she makes her way out onto the dance floor, "Oh my, good lord."

“Friend?” He asks, his voice low.

“Yes, what else would you be?”

Silas grips the underside of my bar stool, dragging it across the floor, the music swallowing the screech, “Friends don’t fuck their hands thinking about one another, sweetheart.”

That one ‘sweetheart’ settles right between my legs, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I run my hands over the sweat on my glass, my chest heaving as he watches me.

“Witches don’t get involved with demons either.”

“You know that’s a lie.” He runs his warm fingertips across my jaw, hooking his fingers under my chin, turning my head. “Why are you so afraid of me, Emilia?”

“I’m not.” I say, lost in his gold eyes. “But what ifhe’sright, and he ruined me for everyone else?” My hands move on theirown, running down his chest and stopping at his waist to gather his shirt into my fist. “I haven’t done half of the things you have. I haven’t had sex in a public place or in the back of a car. It’s only happened in a bed, missionary or nothing. Hell, he never gave me an orgasm. What if I can’t have one?”

Silas laughs, “Sweetheart, I’ve seen you come all over your fingers nearly a dozen times.”

“Alone, sure.”

He tilts his head, leaning close to me, “I could make you come.”

I shudder out a breath, my body almost shaking with need as he tucks my hair behind my ear.

“With my fingers, my tongue, or my cock, if all you want is to be proven wrong.”

It’s not, though. I reach for the remnants of my buzz, feeling it slip through my fingertips. If Iwastipsy, this would have sobered me up immediately. So I have nothing to blame for the words that fall from my lips.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Here? Now?” He laughs, taking a sip of his ale.

“Silas, I tended bar at a place off-campus half of my senior year and well into grad school. I know what happens in the bathroom.”

“Don’t tempt me,little witch.”

“Why not? If I tell you to fuck me outright, it’d be considered a command.” I lift my wrist, shaking the gold bracelet.

Silas’ ears go back as he reaches between us, fingertips catching the shimmering faint green chain of magic that links us. One tug and it snaps with enough force to rattle the bottles on the table and nearly stealing the breath from my lungs.

“Tell me, Emilia.” He growls.

“Wait.” I breathe, my hands falling onto my lap as I look at the now useless chunky jewelry encircling my wrist. “You could have done that this entire time?”

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