Page 46 of Sweet Heat

“It hasn’t been that long,” she scoffs, but the radiant smile on her face tells a different tale. Yeah, my baby missed me, too. Dipping my head, I drop a kiss on her rosy lips, disgruntled when all I smell is the pungent de-scenting lotion she must have slathered all over her body.

It hides her from me, and I can’t help the snarl that hits me like a freight train.

“Let’s go to my apartment and get you cleaned up.” Reaching down, I relieve her of the duffel bag, shifting it until it’s over my shoulder.

Her pupils blow, and her little tongue darts out as she watches my biceps flex. And it makes me feel like I’m ten feet tall. Posie steps back, and I take the opportunity to open the door for her, tossing the bag into the backseat before offering her my hand to help her in.

“I haven’t gotten dirty,” she gulps, placing her palm in mine before leaping effortlessly into the SUV. Her dress flaps in the breeze, and I shift my body to make sure no one can catch a glimpse. It doesn’t go too high, but better safe than needing torip some unsuspecting dude’s eyes out. The league sure as shit wouldn’t like that—even if my Alpha would.

“I aim to change that. But first, I need your scent all over me.”

Once she’s settled, I pull the seatbelt across her lap and brush my body against hers to snap it in. She gasps, then blushes at the closeness, and I nearly bite my tongue off when her nipples poke through the thin material. My mouth waters. And cock is painfully hard and ready to go off at any second. Pulling back, I run my thumb over each peak, pleased by the breathy sigh she makes. With immense control, I extract myself and close the door gently, then take a calming breath before walking around the SUV and getting into the driver’s side.

As I enter, she pins me with a stare, her eyes narrowing and brows furrowing as if having an unhappy realization. Doing my best to remain focused on getting us safely to my apartment despite my throbbing erection, I grip the wheel and compartmentalize the sense of foreboding that’s slithering in my guts.

“How did you know I was here?” she asks finally, pressing her fingers against her lips. Without the ability to scent her, I can’t tell if she’s alarmed or amused, and it ratchets up my anxiety. Little beads of sweat pop along my brow.

Do I lie? Should I make it a joke?

Bile scorches my throat, but I croak out, “What do you mean?” Yup, when in doubt, play dumb.

“Well… you were already downstairs when I texted you. And now that I’m thinking about it… how did you know where the driving instructor took me?” She ticks something off on her fingers, and fuck do I wish we were already bonded so I could feel her emotions. “It can’t just be a coincidence…”

There’s a long pause where I consider my options—but now that I’m on the path to making Posie my mate, the lie sticks in my craw.

With a sheepish shrug, I reach over and slide my hand into hers, slotting our fingers together. What I’m about to say might make her mad, but I’ll grovel until she forgives me. There’s nothing I won’t do to make her mine.

“Sometimes… well, I stalk you. Not in a creepy way, though,” I rush to add with an audible gulp. It’s out there now—no take-backs.

“Oh, stop,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes. She’s so fucking cute. I just want to wrap her up and snuggle. “Tell the truth.”

Twisting my head, I glance at her and lift my eyebrow. Her mouth drops to the floor as understanding dawns in her bright eyes.

“Wait. Really? How?” she splutters and mumbles. Then, Posie yanks her phone from her pocket and starts scrolling through the list of apps. The tapping of her fingers on the screen becomes faster as she shuffles through them. A frown appears on her face, deepening as she comes up empty. “I don’t see anything…”

“I have your pin. I added it to my find my phone app,” I explain, my eyes boring holes into the side of her head as though that’ll help me read her thoughts. In for a penny, in for a pound, though, the whole truth might as well be out there. “And I also have trackers in all your shoes… Every time you buy a new pair; I insert a new one.”

Posie yanks her hand from mine, reaching to grab her shoe. She quickly yanks it off, allowing her adorable pink socks with sea otters on them to come into view. Scrutinizing the offendingapparel, she grunts in frustration when the tracker’s location remains a mystery.

“Right shoe, there’s a small hole in the inside of the heel,” I tell her, and she drops the leftie she’s holding and rips the other off, then feels around until she finds the raised spot. “I’d prefer if you didn’t remove it…”

My sweet Puff runs her finger over the spot, lost in contemplation, and the urge to bark her into submission becomes nearly unbearable as frantic thoughts vie for space in my brain. She might be upset, but the tracker must remain in place. How mad is she? Are these deal breakers? The Alpha instinct to protect surges to the forefront but before I have a chance, a screeching reaches my ears.

Brake lights glow red in front of me, and I snap my focus back to the road, my heart thundering when I realize how close we are to the car ahead.Shit.Slamming hard on the brakes, my arm flies out, instinctually banding across Posie’s body. The tires shriek, grinding against the gears, and my breath catches in my chest. Every muscle locks up, bracing for impact.

“Watch the road,” Posie cries belatedly, throwing her hands out in front of her. The car slides to a stop, nearly kissing the bumper of the car ahead before rocking back unscathed. Posie whimpers, sliding her arms around my bicep as she holds onto my arm for dear life.

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” I repeat over and over, even as the cars start moving again. Using one hand, I steer the car over to the side of the road. “Talk to me, Puff.”

Her heart bangs against my arm, thumping hard enough that its rhythm creates a vibration along my skin. The shoulder isempty, so I place the car in park and tilt her head toward me to help identify her level of panic.

“I’m good.” She loosens her grip on me, running a hand through her long tresses, pulling a hair tie from her wrist, and quickly wrapping it into a ponytail. Posie then straightens her clothing, slipping her shoes back on but leaving the tracker in place.

“And how are you feeling about the other thing?” I ask, gesturing toward her feet.

“You stalking me?” Her lips twitch into a smirk, chasing the fear from our near-collision off her face.

“Mekeeping an eyeon you,” I rephrase because I’m not a psycho—I don’t follow random girls like a creep.

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