have remembered a scent like yours.”
She leaned in then, and ran her nose, a breath from my neck, up toward my ear, under my jaw line, over my chin and lips, and nose to nose to me, she said, “I know I would have remembered you.”
“We never met.” I was sure of it. I would have remembered her, too.
“Hm.” She didn’t back up.
I wanted to touch her again. I wanted her all over me--more than checking my scent. Just standing that close was a tease.
Abruptly, she asked, “Do you always go for large women?”
Trick question?
Honestly, I said, “I prefer them, but I go for anything in a skirt.”
Again, she said, “Hm.”
“What do you mean, Hm?”
“Hood knows what you like, I’ll bet.”
“How the hell would Hood know?”
I could see her mind clicking. “That bastard.” She smiled. “That dirty rotten son of a bitching bastard.”
With that, she was gone--into the ladies’ room. It took me a few minutes to move. And it took me a lot longer to clean up. I kept stopping, staring in the men’s room mirror, wondering what the hell I’d gotten in the middle of.
And wondering how the hell to get the scent of her off of me. In the end, I gave up on that. I washed my skin, but she was in my head, and on my clothes.
Frank found me when I was finishing up. He asked, “What the hell happened to you?”
I was leaning over the sink, splashing water on my face. “Nothing.”
He leaned against the wall by the door, and crossed his arms and his legs, watching me.
I looked into the mirror, and our eyes met. “What did Giselle have to say after I left?”
He countered with, “What did Amber have to say?”
I reached for a towel and dried my face. “Only that she’d like me not to mention that she and Hood have slept together--in front of Giselle again.”
“Yeah. Giselle didn’t like that much.”
“I got that.”
Frank said, “Looks like Amber has been hand-picked by Hood to go with us to Missouri.”
“That’s what she told me, too.”
A pause ensued. He asked, “Was it worth it?”
“What?” I played stupid.
“Compromising what faith Hood had in us...for some snatch...that you knew he was sniffing up.” Frank moved from the wall, advancing on me like a predator, his eyes skewered mine.
He surprised me by shifting as he moved, rising up into crinos before my eyes--and he’s one butt ugly crinosed wolf, let me tell ya that. More interesting, his clothes didn’t shred. They stretched with him. So, he was a crinos werewolf in clothing, with those damn black glasses and silly bow tie--in his fucking three piece suit. Almost looked civilized--if it weren’t for the flash of fangs he showed me.
I could have crinosed, too, and shown him how big I was like that. He’s seen me buffed up before, and I thought, briefly, that he might need a reminder.
Frank and I are from good bloodlines--despite how he looked. We shift easily, and don’t waste a lot of pain on it. He wasn’t looking for a fight, though.
He was angry, but not fighting mad. Just making a point. He got up in my face, his wolf nose breathing heavy on me, but he didn’t touch me. He said, “I’m gonna tell you one time, Mark. You fuck with Hood, and I’ll take you out myself.”
Now, that set me back on my heels. I don’t know what I was expecting, but loyalty to Hood?
Carefully, I said, “Back up, Frank.”
He didn’t give me an inch. He said, “Tell me you understand.”
Since he was dead serious, and not moving, I had a few choices. They whizzed through my brain. First, and obvious solution, crinos and see how it falls--but he could disembowel me with a talon to my gut, as close as we were standing. Second, give in and wait for
She leaned in then, and ran her nose, a breath from my neck, up toward my ear, under my jaw line, over my chin and lips, and nose to nose to me, she said, “I know I would have remembered you.”
“We never met.” I was sure of it. I would have remembered her, too.
“Hm.” She didn’t back up.
I wanted to touch her again. I wanted her all over me--more than checking my scent. Just standing that close was a tease.
Abruptly, she asked, “Do you always go for large women?”
Trick question?
Honestly, I said, “I prefer them, but I go for anything in a skirt.”
Again, she said, “Hm.”
“What do you mean, Hm?”
“Hood knows what you like, I’ll bet.”
“How the hell would Hood know?”
I could see her mind clicking. “That bastard.” She smiled. “That dirty rotten son of a bitching bastard.”
With that, she was gone--into the ladies’ room. It took me a few minutes to move. And it took me a lot longer to clean up. I kept stopping, staring in the men’s room mirror, wondering what the hell I’d gotten in the middle of.
And wondering how the hell to get the scent of her off of me. In the end, I gave up on that. I washed my skin, but she was in my head, and on my clothes.
Frank found me when I was finishing up. He asked, “What the hell happened to you?”
I was leaning over the sink, splashing water on my face. “Nothing.”
He leaned against the wall by the door, and crossed his arms and his legs, watching me.
I looked into the mirror, and our eyes met. “What did Giselle have to say after I left?”
He countered with, “What did Amber have to say?”
I reached for a towel and dried my face. “Only that she’d like me not to mention that she and Hood have slept together--in front of Giselle again.”
“Yeah. Giselle didn’t like that much.”
“I got that.”
Frank said, “Looks like Amber has been hand-picked by Hood to go with us to Missouri.”
“That’s what she told me, too.”
A pause ensued. He asked, “Was it worth it?”
“What?” I played stupid.
“Compromising what faith Hood had in us...for some snatch...that you knew he was sniffing up.” Frank moved from the wall, advancing on me like a predator, his eyes skewered mine.
He surprised me by shifting as he moved, rising up into crinos before my eyes--and he’s one butt ugly crinosed wolf, let me tell ya that. More interesting, his clothes didn’t shred. They stretched with him. So, he was a crinos werewolf in clothing, with those damn black glasses and silly bow tie--in his fucking three piece suit. Almost looked civilized--if it weren’t for the flash of fangs he showed me.
I could have crinosed, too, and shown him how big I was like that. He’s seen me buffed up before, and I thought, briefly, that he might need a reminder.
Frank and I are from good bloodlines--despite how he looked. We shift easily, and don’t waste a lot of pain on it. He wasn’t looking for a fight, though.
He was angry, but not fighting mad. Just making a point. He got up in my face, his wolf nose breathing heavy on me, but he didn’t touch me. He said, “I’m gonna tell you one time, Mark. You fuck with Hood, and I’ll take you out myself.”
Now, that set me back on my heels. I don’t know what I was expecting, but loyalty to Hood?
Carefully, I said, “Back up, Frank.”
He didn’t give me an inch. He said, “Tell me you understand.”
Since he was dead serious, and not moving, I had a few choices. They whizzed through my brain. First, and obvious solution, crinos and see how it falls--but he could disembowel me with a talon to my gut, as close as we were standing. Second, give in and wait for
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