My eyes search the room. Other than a large black duffel bag on top of a walnut dresser, there’s no sign of my clothes. I don’t scent them either, which is a problem, because I need clothes.
I head for the dresser.
“Where are you going?”
I swear I jump high enough that both feet leave the floor. My glare has no effect because his gaze isn’t on my face. It’s on my naked body. “Looking for my clothes.”
He steps into the room and nudges the door closed behind him.
It snicks shut, and the sound is like a siren screaming a warning in my ear.
My nipples harden, and my stomach tightens. When he lifts his head, I realize the kind of danger I’m in. The ‘falling into bed with Galen Hunt and not minding it one bit’ kind. “They were destroyed. I tossed them.”
Which leaves me with nothing. I don’t know what the pack will do to the stuff I left in the washing machine, but they won’t be wearable. I’d put money on it.
“Can I borrow a shirt?” I ask. “Just for today.”
When I get to my cabin, I’ll figure something else out. What that something is, I’ll deal with later.
“Yes.”
“But?”
“I want something in return.”
I grit my teeth. “Eden.”
He shakes his head. “Not Eden. A shirt is a small thing, so something else.”
And that’s just another difference between us. Small to you is big to me.
I head for the door. “You know what? It’s fine. I don’t want it.”
“Aren’t you going to ask what that small thing is?”
“I don’t care.”
He takes a step back, blocking the door. “So you’re going to walk back to your cabin naked?”
“Yes.” My nakedness doesn’t bother me. It’s what the pack will do when they see me that does. But since shifting isn’t an option, I have no choice.
“Excuse me, please.” I don’t shove him the way I did Bowen, because I’m not suicidal.
Galen grips my arms and turns to press my back against the door.
“A kiss,” he says. “That’s what I want.”
“Not interested.” I reach for the door handle which is now beside me, making escape that much closer. Before I get a finger on it, Galen steps into my body, pinning me to the door. His cock is like a brand against my lower belly.
But your belly isn’t where you want it, is it?
I break out in a sweat and hope it’s in a place Galen can’t see. Like my feet.
“Now, I wouldn’t say that was entirely accurate, would you?”
I meet his eyes and force myself to take slow, steady breaths. “It is.”
He gives me another one of those half-smiles.