Free Dark of the Moon by Rachel Hawthorne Page B

between us that I couldn’t quite identify. Connor sped up his movements, grunting louder, pumping harder. His eyes were on my reflection in the mirror. I began to move in tandem. The air was thick with heat, as though we were engaged in a contest of wills and weights. The sweat glistened on my skin. I felt a drop roll down the center of my stomach, and watched as Connor’s gaze followed it until it reached the waistband of my shorts and was absorbed into the material. His grunts got deeper, harsher. A feral glint lit his eyes. For the first time, in human form, he resembled the ferocious wolf he could transform into. I wasn’t sure what was making me more breathless. The way Connor looked or the weight of the dumbbell I was lifting.
    Unfortunately, the burn in my arm became too much. As much as I hated to, I had to concede. Panting, I dropped the weight to the floor. Connor kept going. Be that way .
    Moving away from him, I positioned myself on a nearby mat and began doing stomach crunches. When my arms were rested, no longer quivering, I went to the chin-up bar, jumped, and grabbed onto it, my fingers curling toward me. Facing the brick wall, I brought myself up and back down. All around me, I could hear heavy breathing, the grunting of us working hard, preparing mentally and physically for the battle with Bio-Chrome.
    Exerting a great deal of effort, I brought my chin to the very top of the bar before lowering my body again. Over and over, quickening my pace until my arms begged for mercy. I slowed. It was a mistake. Without the momentum, it was too hard. I dropped back to the floor. Bending over, my hands on my thighs, I dragged in deep breaths, relishing the high that came from working out to the max.
    “You should always expect an attack,” Connor said, his voice low, his warm breath whispering along my neck.
    I glared at him over my shoulder. “That’s what I’m preparing for.”
    “You can never be completely prepared.”
    Before I could respond, he wrapped his arms around me, lifted me up, and slammed me down on the nearby wrestling mat, his body straddling mine. The gym had grown impossibly quiet. How had I not noticed? The only grunts and harsh breathing were coming from Connor and me. The others were circling around to watch the show.
    Connor was strong, impossibly strong. I couldn’tmatch him in strength, but I figured I had agility on my side. With a quick thrust of my leg, I leveraged myself up and slid from beneath him, safely rolling to the side. Part of me wanted to run away. It’s always the smartest choice.
    But another part, the part that had desperately longed for the moment when I would be able to shift, commanded me to pounce.
    I jumped onto Connor’s back, wrapping my arms around his chest. Instincts drove me to sweep my left leg against his knee, causing him to lose his balance. As we fell, he turned just in time, putting me on bottom. But it didn’t matter, I was in control and he knew it.
    Connor’s body flexed, his muscles knotting up, and with one slick move he was again in charge. For several minutes we changed positions. Never speaking, bodies sliding over each other’s. At times, it was difficult to tell where my skin ended and his began. Connor’s body was slick from working out, making it hard to grab on to. But so was mine. His hands, large and powerful, slid down my back and across my thighs. My fingers were digging into his shoulders.
    We broke apart and scrambled to our feet. Breathing heavily, we circled each other. His eyes held the glint of a predator, along with something more. I could feel the tension in the air—but it had nothing to do with competitors.It was all about girl-boy. The sexual awareness was humming between us.
    “You’re good,” Connor said, and I heard the respect in his voice.
    I wanted to swell up with pride, but I didn’t dare let my defenses down.
    “I told you she would be.” It was Lucas. I hadn’t seen him come into the room. I wondered