Free Training Their Mate [Pack Wars-Book 1] by Vella Day Page B

tried.
    “Liz.” His voice cracked.
    She looked into his simmering
eyes that seemed to change right in front of her. The gray and green flecks now
had more of an amber hue.
    He clasped her shoulders,
pulled her to his chest, and kissed her. While the pressure wasn’t hard, his
kiss bordered on desperation. His tongue pried opened the seal of her lips, and
her body refused to deny him entrance.
    Their tongues tentatively
touched a second before he took charge. Her nipples puckered and she clasped
his shoulder and he jumped back.
    “I’m
sorry, Liz. I never should have kissed you. I—”
    “It’s okay.” Her heart
deflated. Who wanted a man to say the kiss had been a mistake? She stepped
back. “I need to finish getting ready.”
    She rushed back to the
bedroom happy her knees were a lot steadier than yesterday.
    “I made you breakfast. Hurry
back.”
    She didn’t answer as she
ducked into the bedroom and plastered her back against the door. What the hell
just happened? She had only wanted help getting dressed. Trax seemed to think
she was putting the moves on him .
Then he apologized. That was the mortifying part.
    She rushed to the bathroom
and checked to see if she looked any different from the kiss. Her lips were a
bit pink from the pressure, but otherwise, she appeared to be the same.
    Trax had made breakfast and
she was hungry. Sucking up her embarrassment, she returned to the living room.
A plate piled with eggs, bacon, and a piece of toast sat on the dining room
table. He’d also left her a glass of orange juice, but he was nowhere to be
seen.
    “Trax?” Perhaps he was in
Dante’s room.
    She knocked. No answer.
Thinking he might be using his brother’s bathroom, she went in. Holy moly. The
place was a total pigsty. The bed wasn’t made, clothes were on the floor, and
the open bathroom door revealed a bigger mess.
    Trax and Dante couldn’t have
been more different. Comparing them in other ways would serve no purpose. She
stepped back into the living room and called his name again. Her stomach
grumbled. She’d eat first, then figure out what the hell was going on.
    Next to her plate sat a
neatly penned note. Going to capture
Couch. Wish me luck .
    “Aw.” The last sentence was
such a cute endearment.
    It took her no time to inhale
her meal even with only one hand. Once she was finished, she washed her dishes
and placed them on the counter to dry knowing Trax would be upset if she left
the place dirty. Touching their things connected her to them in an intangible
way. Perhaps the act of doing housework allowed her to pretend she was part of
a family.
    Since she figured it would
take Trax some time to find Couch, she wanted to call her friend. Poor Chelsea
must be terribly worried. Liz punched in the number.
    “Oh my God. Where are you?
I’ve been in a panic.”
    She inhaled. Telling Chelsea all the details would take a
while, so she laid back on the bed and spent the next ten minutes describing
all that had happened. Discussing the reason for her mom’s suicide had been the
hardest to retell.
    “Holy fuck, Liz. Are you
telling me that in the last twenty-four hours, you tried to kill the man who
raped your mom, were chased down an alley by two wolves who turned into men,
and made love with a hot protector?”
    Even she couldn’t believe it.
“That about sums it up.”
    Chelsea whistled. “So now
what happens?”
    She loved that her best
friend didn’t lecture her on the attempted murder or the subsequent sex. “I
have to wait here until Trax captures Couch.”
    “And if he doesn’t succeed?”
    Her breath hitched. “I’ll be
spending the rest of my life cooped up in a fabulous loft apartment making love
to two hot men?” Even though it was a joke, juices dampened her panties and her
heart skipped a beat. She feared she’d just spoken her secret desire out loud,
and that was so not good.

 
    Chapter Eight
    Trax didn’t want anything to go wrong with the
operation. Tons of reasons existed