Free Fur Factor by Christine Warren Page B

“And where exactly would I sleep?”
    “Was the bed not comfortable?”
    She eyed him with an odd expression, and Graham couldn’t tell if she was offended or intrigued or disgusted or overcome with lust. This was why humans should have tails. Or at least bigger ears. They made reading expressions so much easier.
    “You could be a gentleman and offer me your guest room,” she finally said, watching him intently.
    “I’m not that much of a gentleman,” he said, flashing her a grin. “Besides, how am I supposed to convince you to move in with me after this if I don’t get you to indulge in more incredible sex?” She blushed, which he found adorable, and he fought to keep from drooling. He doubted she would appreciate the Lupine compliment.
    “You really want me to go back to bed with you?”
    “Right now, if you’re willing.”
    She shook her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “There’s no reason for you to act like this. You could have any woman you wanted just by giving her one of those killer smiles of yours. Why should you want me? Don’t enough women give in easily for you?”
    He couldn’t have stifled his grin if his life depended on it. “You’re jealous.” Missy laughed, still shaking her head. “No,” she denied, “just confused.” He saw gooseflesh on her skin and realized the water must be getting cold. He climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the cabinet. “You don’t have to worry, though, because I’m not interested in any other woman.” Ignoring the water dripping off his own skin, he wrapped the towel around Missy and rubbed the terry cloth gently against her skin. He debated telling her why he wasn’t interested in any other women, but figured his chances of keeping her in his house were a lot better if he didn’t bring up the term “mate-bond” for another day or so. He would give her time to get used to him first.
    He hunkered down in front of her to dry her legs and feet. He’d bet she didn’t wear above a size six shoe; her feet were that tiny and delicate, with high arches and toes polished a blushing shade of pink almost the exact color of her skin when he pushed her into coming for him. The thought made him harden instantly, and he fought not to lean forward and bury his face in the thatch of light brown curls that shielded her sex.

    Christine Warren
    Fur Factor
    44
    Having it so close and convenient didn’t seem to be helping his willpower any. He forced his eyes back to her feet until he could feel her gaze on the top of his head.
    He looked up. “What?”
    She shook her head. “I was just wondering something…” He stood and finally took pity on her, wrapping the towel around her body so she could unclamp her arms from in front of her breasts. He hoped she realized exactly what the show of chivalry cost him. “What were you wondering?” She tucked the cloth more securely around her and tucked her hair behind her ears.
    She looked down at the floor and shrugged. “Why you’re acting like you’re so interested in me.”
    “Probably because I am.” He thought about grabbing her hand and wrapping it around his aching cock, just to demonstrate exactly how interested he really was, but there was that whole problem with her being likely to run from him, screaming.
    “Yeah, right.”
    He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means that I have a little trouble believing that I’m all of a sudden irresistible,” she said, her chin lifting again to meet his eyes with her own. The way she could turn from bashful flower to rebellious firebrand fascinated him. “You’ve known me for six weeks and tonight is the first time you’ve looked at me like I was more than an extension of the wallpaper.”
    “I’ve obviously been a moron,” he countered, enjoying the way her brown eyes had gone warm and sparking at him. “What else were you expecting? I’m a man. We’re morons by birth.”
    “Some of you are more