Free Animal Behavior by Gabrielle Holly

maneuvered the cart on the winding
path to his house. The enormous two-story log home was nestled among soaring
pines and paper-white birch trees. Two identical wings fanned out from a
massive covered entry. The portico was lit by a huge iron chandelier that
looked as if it weighed more than Gwen’s Jeep.
    So this is the kind of place TV money can buy, she
thought. She glanced at the wide stone staircase leading up to the porch and
counted ten steps. Her ankle throbbed and she wondered how she’d make it into
the house.
    Alex trotted to her side of the cart. “Now will you let me
help you?”
    Gwen rolled her eyes and reached out to steady herself on
his extended hand. Instead, he slid one arm behind her shoulders and the other
under her knees. Before she could protest, he lifted her against his chest and
loped up the steps. He paused at the carved double doors and nodded at the
handle. Gwen reached out, pivoted the thick, oil-rubbed bronze handle and
pushed.
    From her perch in his arms, she took in the great room. It
had soaring exposed log beam ceilings and was beautifully decorated in an
upscale lodge style. A two-story stone fireplace took up one entire wall and a
huge rustic dining table separated the living area from a state-of-the-art open
kitchen. In the space opposite the fireplace were an ornate pool table with
fringe at the pockets, an old-fashioned jukebox with bubbling lights, and a
dark oak bar with sumptuously padded barstools. Alex deposited her in one of
the buttery-soft tan leather couches that flanked the fireplace.
    “You going to be okay here?” he asked.
    “I am. But I’ve got to… I mean…”
    Alex’s brow furrowed for a minute before it seemed that the
obvious dawned on him. “Oh. Yeah. Right. Hang on.”
    He disappeared down the hall and returned pushing a huge
burgundy-leather executive desk chair in front of him. He positioned it at the
end of the couch and lifted Gwen from one seat to the other. She held out her
injured leg as he wheeled the chair past the billiard table, snatching a cue
from its wall rack when they rolled by. Parking the office chair outside one of
half a dozen raised paneled doors, he reached in to flick on the light. Gwen
peered into the large, beautifully appointed half bath.
    He held out the pool cue and winced as if he were about to
yank off a bandage. “Can you manage from here, or…”
    Gwen took the pool cue. “I’ll manage.”
    “Great, I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to go
start the grill.”
    Using the pool cue, the wall, the doorframe and the bathroom
vanity to support herself, she finally managed to pee. What should have taken
two minutes took ten. Alex was chopping vegetables when she emerged. He put
down his knife and watched her scoot across the room in her makeshift
wheelchair and transfer back to the couch. “Beer? Pop?” he asked.
    “A beer would be great.”
    * * * * *
    Alex had to distract his nose. He’d barely made it out of
the exam room without jumping her, but the cougar attack had been the worst of
it. He could smell the blood from the scrapes on her hands and the fear oozing
from every pore. And under those scents was her , her sweat and sex and
the combination made him feel off balance.
    The only thing that had saved him—and her—was that it
happened in broad daylight. If they’d been under the moon, Alex was sure it
would have ended badly. As it was, the assault on his heightened olfactory
sense was almost more than he could stand.
    His ears had picked it up first—the barking of her dog, the
roar of the big cat. When he’d fired the warning shot over the cougar’s head,
the acrid smell of gun powder had given Alex’s nose a temporary respite. It had
cleared quickly though and when he knelt down beside her he’d been overwhelmed
by the intoxicating pheromones rolling off her. He’d begun to tremble and his
cock had stiffened. It had been all he could do not to rip off her clothes and
fuck her right there.