Her Lycan Lover
had an all-nighter ahead in energy line maintenance.
    Sherry sucked in her breath at the vivid memory of seeing him half-naked. His hard muscled body construed a seductive roadmap composed of a series of perfectly synchronized grooves and ridges set under smooth olive skin and had her shivering at the image in her mind. His jet black hair—a wreck. Thick waves that begged to be touched, if not yanked. And God, should she go there? Why the heck not. One more image and she’d put a stop to this insane trip into the land of employer man candy. She twirled her hair, reminiscing about the fine hair sprinkled in a diamond shape on Quinn’s chest and that gave way to the line that ran down his six-pack abs. In front of her office doorway, she reached for the knob and sighed. Each image was unadulterated Quinn torture.
    Bowing her head, she pressed her forehead into the smooth wood. A blanket of heat flamed over her face and she closed her eyes, hoping to dispel the sexy image of rippling male flesh plaguing her mind.
    “Quinn,” she whispered to herself.
    The second her eyes closed, she was locked in a timeless zone where only she and Quinn existed. He didn’t stop the way he’d held back today. In this dreamlike state, Quinn exercised a type of brutality where he took whatever he craved. And in his eyes, there was no mistaking the feverish desire capable of searing her skin.
    She struggled to escape, but it hardly mattered. In body, mind, or soul, he came for her. His hot mouth connected with her lips. The kiss they shared a tsunami to her senses, wildly erotic, and her body freely responded. His large hand curled around her waist as his body melded against hers. Oh, there was no argument—she burned for Quinn.
    Her head pressed harder against the door and she gripped the knob unable to let go of the metal in her hand or the power of the fantasy.
    “No,” she exhaled, opening her eyes, and firmly stepping forward. Eyes wide open at all cost when it came to Quinn ! Turning the knob, she almost fell into her office.
    One night in his bed would reduce her ability to command the respect of the Den staff and worse, a mind corrupted by lust meant she’d be ineffective in her Sisterhood post. That could potentially provide the Fae with the means of egress into the Earth’s realm. Her whole purpose in life teetered with the onslaught of this Lycan’s attention. Was this how her mother felt before she’d fallen furiously from grace?
    Sherry gritted her teeth. She had two careers. Both about to be thrown away if she didn’t watch out. Her one reason for being hired at the Den was discussed during her interview. It was the selling point she’d used with Shawn for goodness sakes. She wasn’t a shifter with out of control heat cycles. Nor a vampire susceptible to sexual deviations due to age-old blood lines. She was beyond being enslaved and maintained her own soul. The price: mortality. But while she lived, it was her volition, her desire, her choice in who she decided to sleep with or not. And so far, it had been not.
    Just as the stud services that had put the Downtown Den on the map were of no interest to her, so should any date she had planned with Quinn. Had she forgotten he was a wolf shifter? Lycan with a capital ‘L’ that went with lust, lunacy… licking . Seriously wrong!
    She pressed her fingers along her temples. That type of shifter only settled for an alpha like himself; the rest of the world was a playground for his enjoyment. He did not need to work. A reputation meant nothing to him.
    Quinn was a sexual being. Polar to her.
    Oh really , her traitor mind warbled softly. A sensual being could be entertaining. Oodles. And a powerful Lycan such as Quinn. She could almost feel the tickle of his beard on her thighs and his long tongue sliding between her legs. A tremor of excitement swam in her belly. Without considering her action, she let her hands rub the aching skin of her breasts, trailing her fingertips over

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