Page 39 of The Dire Reaction

“Good girl.” His hand pats my hip gently before gathering my thighs in his hands and sliding himself out of me. I feel empty, hollow, without him.

“I’m going to make us some breakfast, and then I have to do chores. I wish the animals would understand why I don’t want to get out of bed this morning.” He stands up cradling me against his chest. Lighting a small kiss on my temple, he lays me onto the bed, pulling the blanket over my cooling body.

I nestle in until my elbow hits a cold wet spot and I jump.

Rich baritone laughter fills the room. “I think we made Lake Okeechobee.”

My cheeks burn and I cover my eyes with my hand. “That’s so embarrassing,” I squeak.

His rough hand grabs my wrist, pulling it from my face. Sapphire blue eyes pierce mine. “It’s fucking beautiful, Dani. I’ll buy a dozen beds so we have a new one to drown in every night.” He brings my palm to his lips, my fingers brushing the stubble on his jaw as he grins wickedly down at me.

It makes my insides feel all weird, like climbing the rope in gym class.

Watching him walk away, the embers fan in my belly seeing his naked backside. His broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, the muscular curve of his ass over long lean thighs. What was that word from the romance books? Oh, yea, swoon.

When he disappears into the bathroom, I hear the shower start. Throwing my arm back across my eyes, I try to shut out the invading morning light.

What am I doing? I’ve never done anything like this before. It was never on my radar through school, or while starting up my practice. Now, all I can think about is wanting to be around him. Or on him. Under him.

Geez.

I’m glad I asked if he would participate in the trials. Even if the side effects are wild. Like what happened to Alex. How insane is that? I can’t even wrap my head around the kinds of changes he underwent. Fur, claws and a sheath like a dog’s?

That reminds me that I forgot to tell Jenny Mrs. Clark emailed asking about switching her dog’s spaying procedure to Monday morning. Damn, tomorrow is Monday.

Jenny should be at the clinic today, since she had to take off Tuesday for a class. I better text her to ask her to prep the operating room.

Where’s my phone?

Flinging back the covers, the chill of the room hits me as I stretch. I’m actually a little surprised; I almost expected to be sore after last night. During a pointless search for my shirt, I see Sam’s lying on the floor near the bed. Slipping it over my head, I find it hangs down to my thighs, but at least keeps me from shivering. And it smells like him. The leather and pine washes over me making me almost lightheaded.

The cold floor bites at my feet as I tiptoe briskly into the kitchen to retrieve my phone. It’s still sitting on the island where I left it when I was looking up dire wolves.

Of all the crazy DNA to include.

When I unlock the screen, it starts buzzing like crazy with notifications. Amber alerts, silver alerts, missing persons, and more all flood across my screen.

What the hell?

I start swiping them off the screen, and more keep appearing. They’re all for this area, too. Here’s an emergency alert warning of an unknown pathogen, urging people to stay indoors and avoid contact.

And here’s an alert from Idaho Fish and Game warning that there is a large animal attack in my area.

Finally clearing all of the official notices, I see I have hundreds of social media notifications next.

Every group I seem to follow is making posts tagging all of the members. The interesting ones are in my veterinarian groups. They’re posting pictures and videos of giant dogs unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

Clicking on one of them, I see it looks more like a jackal. Long, lean, with fur that is dark on the legs fading to a lighter color over the back. But, it’s probably four feet tall at the shoulder, if the car next to it is any comparison.

The next picture is a little more disturbing. It’s like a morphed picture of a jackal and a human. I can see a woman’s figure, but it’s like she’s three-fourths animal.

I’m trying to zoom in on her features when I feel warm hands slide up my hips beneath the hem of the shirt. His clean smell of body wash envelopes me, and my phone drops to the counter.

“If I had known you were going to be in here, leaning over the counter like this, I’d have skipped the shower.” The fire that follows his hands when he runs them up my body immediately wipes any thought of weird animals from my mind. He cups my breasts, tugging me against the rough denim of his jeans. I can’t stop my hips from rubbing against the growing bulge pressing from behind his zipper.

His nose buries into my wild hair at the back of my neck. “And you have my shirt on. It should be a crime how fucking good you look in it.”

I don’t want him to stop. He’s running raw coals of heat over me with his hands. Throwing my hair over my shoulder, I turn to look at him. “Maybe I should be punished.” I can hardly catch my breath, but I can’t stop the smile pulling at my lips.

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