Free Midsummer Heat by Mina Carter

construction, Murphy had a firm grip of the reins. And, as the owner of his own building company, Max was first on the list when something went wrong.
    She signed as she headed for the kitchen and her ultimate goal; coffee.
    Despite the age of the cabin, the kitchen—like the bathroom she’d just showered in—was a delight. She grinned. In pride of place in the middle of the counter was a large coffee machine. Humming with happiness, or pre-coffee jitters, she set about loading the machine. A quick search of the cupboards revealed a large selection of filter coffee. Seemed Max was just as much of a coffee addict as she was. It didn't take long for the coffee to percolate. She sighed as she settled on the stool by the counter, a mug of hot java in her hands as she looked out of the window.
    Three days to midsummer. Even now in the daylight, she could feel the pull of the moon. Like a devil on her back it goaded and prodded her, energy rolling over her skin and pulling at the wolf within. Three days to midsummer. Three days until she had no choice but to slough off the human skin and run as a wolf.
    Any other month she had the choice; she could suppress it if she wished, but not this month. The midsummer moon was the most powerful, the most visceral of all the lunar phases. Intimately linked to lupine legend, it was the one phase where they had to leave their humanity behind, which was why only the deepest pacts or the most solemn claims were made beneath its moon.
    Three days to change her mind about leaving. Three days to persuade her to stay. She took a sip of the rich dark liquid in her mug. Max had been insatiable. He'd woken her several times in the night and each time he'd been different. From rough and forceful as his wolf rode him, through playful and right to slow and so sensual it had made her toes curl. Each and every time he'd been different, like he was trying to cram a lifetime of loving into just one night.
    Savoring the bitter-sweetness of the coffee, she sighed. Not in her wildest dreams had she thought he'd be that good in bed. She knew he'd be good… When they were kids all Max's girlfriends had raved about him, whispered conversations she'd eavesdropped on using a combination of stealth and her enhanced hearing.
    They'd all been human, which had puzzled her. The thought that he preferred human females over his own kind had felt like he was selling out. Until she'd gotten older and realized there was no way he could fool around with a wolf chick. Not without her papa showing up on his doorstep. If there was one thing about lycan fathers, it was that they were very protective. If Max had bedded any of the pack girls, and her family had found out, there would have been a shotgun wedding faster than you could say the words. And there was nothing a suspicious father missed, especially not one with a wolf’s sense of smell.
    She blinked, a wry smile on her lips as she rested her elbows on the counter. After last night, she could say without a shadow of a doubt that those girls hadn’t been lying.
    Max was…wow. Just wow.
    Cradling the mug in her hands, she looked out over the living area. Max had obviously remodeled, opening up the main room and decorating in comforting tones of cream and beige. Neutral, earthy tones which complemented the ethnic print cushions.
    It was a comfortable place. A place for someone to unwind after a hard day at work. Her gaze swept over the big television and assorted electronic gadgets, past the hearth and over the doors opposite. One led to the bedrooms, the other to an office if the heavy desk and big chair was any indication.
    Curious, she slid off the stool. Her footsteps were silent as she padded over the plush carpet. Wolves were sensual creatures; even in human form they sought tactile contact of all kinds. A wolf that avoided touching was a wolf with problems.
    She reached the door, peeking around the frame into the small room. Tucked away in the corner of the house, it