Free Racing Home (Dirt Track Dogs Book 3) (Paranormal Wolf-Shifter Romance) by P. Jameson Page B

with her. He considered going straight to the cellar but couldn’t leave things the way he had earlier. He was solid now, and he needed to make sure she was too.
    He walked around to the back and tapped lightly on the door. When she didn’t answer, he knocked harder. Still nothing, so he turned the knob and let himself in.
    Annie sat at the bar, staring at a plate of food, using her fork to move pieces of it around. Her gaze snapped up when he entered the kitchen, and she looked almost… relieved.
    “Hey,” he said.
    There was a slight lift of her mouth. “I would ask if you want dinner but I’m sure you’d find a reason you don’t.”
    So sure. As if he wouldn’t hesitate at all. Had he been that unkind to her? He’d only been trying to protect them both.
    He came to a stop, as close to her as he dared, leaning over the bar.
    “Annie.” His voice was soft, giving him away, and she looked at him, her blue eyes big and cautious.
    There was no hiding the emotion he felt. And part of him didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted to tell her everything. What he was, what she was. How he needed her, wanted her, fucking couldn’t stand the idea of them not together. That the reason he ran all the time was because caring for someone else scared the shit out of him. He was a coward, keeping his heart locked away so he could never lose anyone again. Never fail anyone again.
    “You’ve been kind to me,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
    She slid her hand across the counter slowly, warning him of her intent. He wouldn’t stop her this time. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes as her skin made contact with his in a rush of sensation that threatened to take him under. She ran her fingers over the scars on his forearm until she reached his hand. He opened his eyes to watch the journey her touch would take, but she stopped there, her hand resting lightly on his. Waiting.
    His move.
    He turned his palm up, catching her slender fingers between his.
    “See?” she said softly. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
    Bad? Holding her hand? No, it was fucking wonderful. And he wanted more. He wanted to feel her lips, wanted to taste her mouth. Cradle her cheek as he explored her. Wanted to know the way her body would feel pressed against his, how her curves would give to his hard planes. Her scent. That sweet, sweet scent. He wanted it on his body, to reassure him she was his.
    Shit. His control was close to snapping.
    He brought her hand up to drop a kiss to her fingers, praying she wasn’t disgusted by his mouth.
    “I’ll take that dinner now. If that’s alright.”
    Annie nodded, pulling away to warm up the food she’d made him.
    He watched her, his heart full and longing. This could be them every night if he wasn’t so fucked up. Her, moving about the kitchen while he watched, anxious to get her alone later so he could show her how he felt. They’d wake together in the morning and she’d still be his.
    Annie set the plate of pot roast in front of him and stepped back. Blister took a bite, closing his eyes to savor it. Damn, his mate was a good cook.
    A sound of satisfaction slipped out. “This is delicious, Annie.”
    “I’m glad you like it,” she said quietly. “Just put your plate in the sink when you’re done, okay? I’m going to bed.”
    She left before he could answer, and he didn’t quite know what to think about her quick exit.
    He finished his dinner and rinsed his plate, popping it in the dishwasher. His gaze went to the back door. He should leave, but he was tired of leaving. His animal was unsettled. Needed something. Needed peace.
    Blister glanced toward the stairs. His angel was just a floor up. He could go to her. Just be in her vicinity. Maybe watch her while she slept. It would help. Those few hours with her in the cellar had been pure heaven. He could have that again.
    Slowly, he climbed the stairs, not sure which room was hers. Several doors were closed, but one was open and he checked it first. It