Page 39 of Fangs for the Memories
“Upstairs, third floor,” she says before hurrying away.
I watch a muscle jump in Ferenc’s jaw. He’s genuinely not used to any of this, and it has to be the highlight so far of nearly being killed by vampires and ending up beholden to a mafia werewolf boss.
Without a word, I walk over to the elevator and press the call button. Ferenc, as always, follows me.
“You do realize you’re not going to get to see the underwear, don’t you?” I say as we wait.
Ferenc says nothing as the doors open and we step in, the sole occupants, almost as if he’s planned this.
The doors close, and I find myself caged against the mirror on the far wall. Ferenc presses his body against mine, one huge hand splayed on the reflective surface above me, his other hand on my hip.
“Grace.” He half growls, half rasps my name, his fangs stopping the word from escaping.
“Ferenc,” I respond, my core heating in a way I know it absolutely should not be.
“You push me to the edge, kedves,” he rasps. “It won’t take much to tip me over.”
His delicious accent rolls over me like fog, his citrus scent filling my nostrils. Try as I might, I couldn’t find his cologne anywhere in his bedroom, so how he smells like this, I don’t know.
Unable to help myself, I release a short pant of breath. It’s hot in this confined space, especially in Ferenc’s big coat and with a huge werewolf radiating heat.
Although some of the heat is coming from me. In fact, quite a lot of the heat is coming from me. Ferenc’s handsome face is so damn close to mine. I can’t forget the kiss we shared last night. It haunted my dreams. It was far more incredible than any kiss has a right to be.
His lips hit mine, just as the elevator chimes and the doors slide open. I take the opportunity to duck under his arm and make my escape.
I want so much to say yes to this attraction between us, but my heart has a shield I can’t break through.
I have to go home sometime, and I can be sure Ferenc won’t come with me. Further, I know my fragile emotions can’t take a fling right now.
It has to be all or nothing. It can’t be all.
It has to be nothing.
The third floor is women’s clothing. Beautiful designer pieces and, to my delight, what looks to be a fully stocked lingerie department.
Perhaps I can tip him over that edge after all. I’d certainly like to see what Mr. Suave Werewolf does when he loses control.
Ferenc
The mirror cracks under my hand.
I guess the store will have to add it to my bill. But if something didn’t give, I would have mated Grace where she stood, no ceremony, no niceties, just my cock and knot buried deep inside her.
I did not want her to escape me. This female belongs to me.
Catching up with Grace in two strides, I gently take her arm. “This way.”
“I need underwear…” She gives me a sharp look.
“And you will get it.” I steer her over to the personal shopping section, the one my mother always uses.
“Mr. Kóbor.” The well-dressed she-wolf at the entrance, with a name badge which reads Katya, looks me up and down with what could be considered a predatory gaze. “What a pleasure,” she adds.
“I have brought my mate…I mean Grace…to be fitted,” I respond in English, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the little human in my charge.
“I don’t need a personal shopper.” Grace glares at me. “I’m perfectly capable of spending your money on my own, kósónóm.” She smiles at the she-wolf.
The wolf looks between me and Grace, cocking her head on one side.
