Eve Langlais - Scared of Spiders

“Really?” he said turning to look at her. “Tell that to my last two managers. I’d just about given up hope on getting someone with the right skills when you came along. And, guess what, you might be human, but you get the job done.”

“Great. But I still wish I had the other type of courage so I don’t turn into a blubbering mess when a spider pops out of nowhere,” she said with a grimace.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where did your fear of arachnids come from?”

“Would you believe from a nightmare?” She squirmed in her seat. “It’s dumb, I know, but I’ve had this recurring dream since my mom died when I was a little girl. As you might have guessed, it has a spider in it, and, well, let’s just say it’s gruesome. Ever since the nightmares started, I freak out at the sight of bugs, spiders being the worst.”

“As long I’m around, I promise to protect you from eight-legged freaks.” He managed to say it without laughing, but his lips twitched when she scowled at him.

“That is so not funny.”

Clint chuckled. “Sorry. I loved that movie.”

She tried to keep the scowl, but his humor ended up contagious and she giggled. “Thanks for not making too much fun of me. Just for that, the next time you get fleas, I’ll help you put your collar on.” She’d no sooner said the words than she clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened.

Clint howled. “Oh, baby, I am really starting to think you’re not timid at all. It’s an act to hide your wicked side.”

She took her hand away from her face and smiled. “Only with you and Brandon. You both make me feel…” Her brow scrunched up as she tried to find a word.

“Like you’ve come home,” he murmured.

She turned startled eyes to him, but he avoided the question he could sense on the tip of her tongue. I don’t think she’s quite ready for the whole ‘fate has decreed you my mate’ thing yet. But he couldn’t resist dropping a light kiss on her lips. The brief contact sizzled, and he wanted more, but not in the car like a teenager. He made it out of and around the car in time to help her out, and then he walked her to her door. He grabbed her keys from her trembling hands, enjoying the fact his touch had unbalanced her as well.

In a deft movement, he unlocked her door and opened it. Before she could escape to the safety and normalness of her home though, he spun her and crushed her to him.

I’m done fantasizing and fist pumping. The thing I feared most, her rejecting me because of my inner beast, is no longer an issue. And besides, I can’t wait to taste her anymore.

He’s going to kiss me. And not a brief peck like he’d given her in the SUV-which, though short, had sizzled. Josie’s heart rate sped up, and she tilted her head to look up at him. His green eyes blazed, and he looked like he would speak, but as if thinking better of it, he instead dipped his head to kiss her.

Forget the foolish fumbles of her teenage years and the inept gropings of her adult ones. In Clint’s arms, Josie discovered what the kiss of a man should feel like. Fire: unadulterated, skin-scorching, tummy twisting, panty wetting fire. He kissed her as if she were the most desirable woman in existence. He devoured her lips as if they were the most decadent treat imaginable. And when he pressed her against the hardness of his desire- for me -she mewled in want. Crazy, inexplicable, this insane attraction between them made no sense, but, oh, did she want more.

She clung to him, pressed herself against his solid body, hating all the clothes that stood between them.

A spitting hiss sounded along with a yelp. Clint drew back from her to glare at his feet. Befuddled, Josie followed the direction of his look and saw her cat Snickers with her fur standing on end, growling and hissing at Clint.

“Snickers,” she admonished, extricating herself from his embrace to pick up her extremely unhappy cat. Snickers, however, wasn’t interested in cuddles. With a swipe of her paw at Josie’s hands, she bolted with a trailing yeowl into the apartment. “Sorry about that. I guess she doesn’t like wolves,” said Josie with a shrug, not able to completely stifle the smile that tilted her lips.

Clint’s lips quirked, and she shivered at the burning look in his eyes. “Don’t worry. By the morning, I’m sure we’ll have come to an agreement.”

Josie blushed at his unspoken words. Let him stay the night? She was tempted. Throw caution at the wind and indulge in what would surely be the most erotic experience of her life, but when reality finally intruded, where would she stand? Probably on the outskirts watching, and if she was still employed, crying as Clint ended up eventually turning to another woman. Another werewolf with courage like him. “I… I’m sorry. I like you, really I do, but so much has happened and so fast and…”

He swooped down and shut her up with a hard kiss. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you. Go have a hot bath, relax, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t until she shut the door-after another befuddling kiss that turned her legs to wobbly noodles-that she processed his words.

But tomorrow is Sunday. Was he coming back? Would he kiss her again? I really shouldn’t let him because, honestly, I know there’s no way I can keep a man like him forever. I’m just not interesting or brave enough. How tempting, though, to indulge in the pleasure he offers, even knowing of the heartbreak and disappointment that will eventually follow.

Speaking of disappointment, what about Brandon? I guess by kissing Clint, and really, really liking it, I’ve made my choice. She couldn’t deny the way Clint made her body sing. She also wasn’t a slut to toy with two men at once even as she found herself attracted to them both. Honor and decency stated she not lead Brandon on, even if she hadn’t decided whether or not to take things further with Clint. She only hoped Brandon wouldn’t take offense.

If I were a braver woman, more of a femme fatale, I wouldn’t bother deciding between two. I’d take them both to bed.

On that naughty, erotically pleasing thought she went to sleep, and had very pleasant dreams indeed for a change.

Brandon stood with his arms crossed over chest in front of the rogue when Clint returned to the warehouse. “I see you left one alive,” Clint stated with flinty eyes.

“Not for long,” growled Brandon with clear menace. He’d found the unconscious rogue during cleanup and held off killing him in the hopes they could get some answers.

The rogue wolf stared at the ceiling with a half-smile and didn’t utter a sound. Brandon didn’t like it. A normal person-especially a shifter-would attempt to struggle, plead, or even try to strike a deal. The eerie stillness the pup displayed while Brandon manhandled and trussed his ass to a chair was unnatural.

“Has he said anything?” Clint asked.

“Actually, I was just about to start the questioning. I wanted to make sure the pack had the cleanup under control.” That and Brandon didn’t trust himself not to kill the rogue for daring to have threatened Josie. When it came to his little mouse, his protective side knew no bounds. With Clint here, he’d have someone to rein him in if the greasy pup said the wrong thing.

Clint gripped the pup’s chin and forced him to face him. “What’s your name?”

The rogue’s eyes came into focus, and the smile on his face deepened. “Lucky me, if it isn’t the alpha himself. The name is Joe.”

“Who do you answer to?”

Joe rolled his eyes and smirked. “Wrong question.”