Whereas in the beginning his motive to uncover her secret had been concern, the whole thing was now more of an obsession. It hadn’t been long before his frustrations had overridden his males-shouldn’t-intimidate-females ethic. And what had she done in response when he demanded that she tell him? Patted him on the head and sang, “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?” The female was killing him.
Her attempts to avoid him were helped along by how demanding his job was. Still, each afternoon over the past three days he’d turned up at the dog sanctuary to take her to lunch. Each time she had avoided him. The first day he had arrived to find out that she had left early and gone to lunch with Pretty Boy. The second day she had eaten an hour before and was working the afternoon to cover someone else’s shift. Today she had arranged to go for lunch with her female coworkers for one of their birthdays. What could he say to that? It was only later that he wondered whether it truly had been anyone’s birthday. Taking into account Jaime’s sly streak, probably not.
His patience was wearing thin. Too damn thin. Making it worse, he had to watch Dominic flirt like crazy with her all the time. He knew they were just playing and that nothing would come of it, but it pissed off his battered ego just the same. Marcus had picked up on how annoying Dante found it, and his response had been to begin flirting with Jaime, too. And Marcus was good at flirting. He could make even the mated females blush. Jaime was unfortunately no exception. Although she didn’t give Marcus any encouragement, she didn’t dis courage him either. Dante’s ego was having a real bad time with it—not to mention his wolf, who had serious issues with both Dominic and Marcus right now.
Increasing Dante’s agitation, she was still driving that tin can of a car every day. Each morning he had instructed her not to take it, she had given him a “whatever you say” look, and then she’d gone and done what the hell she wanted to anyway. In short, there was simply no controlling her. As a person who was used to being obeyed and having his orders respected, Dante didn’t know how to deal with this female.
Likewise, he didn’t know how to deal with the raw cravings he was experiencing or the unfamiliar twinges of possessiveness and jealousy. Furthermore, he was beginning to find her intriguing on a nonsexual level. Dante didn’t do nonsexual levels. He was pissed with both himself and her about the whole thing. So when he saw her unlocking the tin can later that evening, something in him snapped. “Didn’t I tell you not to drive that thing?” Surprised, Jaime jumped, and slowly turned to face the pain in the ass stalking toward her. She sighed tiredly. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I told you, it’s not safe,” he insisted, coming close. “It’ll be better if someone takes you wherever you’re going and picks you up afterward. In fact, I’ll do it myself.” He gestured to the SUV beside her car. “Come on. Where are you going?”
“It’s really not necessary.”
“Where are you going?”
Shit, that voice. It pulled at her, demanded compliance. As usual, Jaime’s body immediately responded to the dominance that coated it—her pulse went into overdrive and her clit decided hey, what the hell, I will, too. Her need for him beat at her insides, at every defense she had against his raw masculinity. “I’m meeting up with Shawn.” She almost jumped again at his growl. “Dante, you really do need to get over your problem with him.”
She was probably right, but Dante couldn’t. The thought of her with the human had anger ripping through him. Images of Pretty Boy kissing her, touching her, being inside her, were flicking around his head and threatening his legendary self-control—control which had been tested by this female too many times over the past few days.
Making it worse, his wolf was clawing at him, raging at the idea of her and Pretty Boy together. As far as his wolf was concerned, no one else had a right to touch her. Feeling the extent of his wolf’s possessiveness only infuriated Dante more. When it came to Jaime Farrow, he was no more in control of his wolf than he was of her. Currently his fingers were tingling with the need to touch her. He wanted to take that mouth, to plunder it with his tongue just as he wanted to plunder her body with his cock.
Shaking off those thoughts as best he could, Dante scrubbed a hand down his face and switched his focus back to their conversation. “You need to break it off with him.” She sighed. “This is getting real old and real boring.”
“You can do better than a human anyway.”
“For God’s sake, will you just let it go!”
“You can’t tell me he satisfies you, Jaime. A human can’t give you what you need.”
“He satisfies me just fine. Not that it’s any of your business!” Suddenly everything seemed deadly quiet.
Again, those words did something to him and his wolf. Dante stepped closer and arched a brow. “What was that?” His tone dared her to repeat it.
She should have felt claustrophobic having his big build towering over her, but it strangely sent her horniness level rocketing, which made her even more pissed off. “It’s. None. Of. Your. Business.”
That was when Dante lost all control.
Jaime gasped as strong hands threaded through her hair and a demanding mouth was suddenly taking hers. Dante ate at it, possessed it, and devastated it. She groaned into his mouth, and he swallowed it before releasing a groan of his own. The kiss quickly became so hungry and carnal it was animalistic: lips smacking, tongues twining, teeth biting.
She grunted as suddenly her back met the SUV. Then her hands were being held above her head by one of his, and she struggled against his strong, possessive grip. He growled warningly into her mouth and dug his hips into hers, pinning her lower body still. She got the message; he’d let her go when he was ready, not before.
Inserting his thigh between her legs, Dante used his free hand to cup her ass—and what a luscious ass it was—and make her ride his thigh, grinding her clit against it. Moaning into his mouth, she didn’t fight him as he rocked her hips. He loved how responsive she was, how he was controlling every single movement she made. A growl of masculine satisfaction rumbled out of him and into that plush mouth.
He’d wanted this mouth, been obsessed with it, since the second she appeared on pack territory a few months ago. He’d wanted to taste it and bite it and leave prints from his teeth on it.
Right now, what he most wanted was to leave a print of himself on Jaime; he wanted to be the one she thought of when she needed to come. If lust hadn’t been blurring his thoughts, he might have questioned his motivation. But this second, he was preoccupied by the need to feel, hear, and watch her come.