Mary had been running the shelter on a shoestring for years, and Anja had a natural ability to relate to people. Nothing seemed to faze her. He watched her now, moving about with a natural, unaffected grace. She'd tied her dark blonde hair back into a ponytail, and he swallowed hard at the poetry in motion that was her denim-clad behind. She'd looked stunning in her dress-up clothes yesterday, every inch the born socialite, but she came into her own in simple jeans and a baggy jumper that hinted at the curves hidden underneath. He shifted in his already tight trousers. At six foot three he'd had a hard time finding a homeless guy close enough to him in height. His trousers were jack-ups as a result, exposing his bare ankles. As a shifter, he didn't feel the cold as much as a human would, but nonetheless there was a cold draft going up his trouser leg, not helped by his big toe sticking out of the ancient lace-ups, which were two sizes too small. A patched-up tweed jacket worn on his bare skin and held together by a length of rope completed the look he was going for.
The semi-permanent erection he'd sported since last night roared to life as he came close enough to catch her scent, and he clenched his jaws together. Last night had been a mistake. It had been bad enough to imagine her curves, but he now had firsthand knowledge of them. And he knew exactly just how responsive she was under his hands. Yes, definitely a mistake. He could still taste her under his tongue, and it took every ounce of his self-control to rein his wolf in.
He knew the minute his stench hit her. She wrinkled her nose and looked in his direction. Her eyes widened, and then she smiled. Fuck it, I am doomed.
****
"Oh my, he hasn't seen a shower in a while." Mary held her hand over her nose and coughed discreetly. "Shame really, 'cause under all that grime I bet he's not bad-looking."
"Mary!" Anja elbowed Mary and shook her head, though the elderly woman had a point.
The newcomer making his way towards them was tall, broad-shouldered, and commanded the room as though he owned it. A curious contradiction to the way he looked. He reeked and was unbelievably filthy, but there was something vaguely familiar about the set of those broad shoulders straining the fabric of his jacket. Anja searched her memory as to where she might have seen him before, but she came up blank. Whoever he was, he'd clearly fallen on hard times, and Anja fixed a smile on her face.
A smile that faltered slightly when she looked up into intelligent brown eyes—Mutt's eyes. She was losing the plot. Last night's dream was messing with her perception of reality. Why else would she feel as though she knew the man now standing right in front of her? He wasn't Mutt. He couldn't be. Her heart beat a little bit faster, and she grabbed the long counter she stood behind for support. His amber eyes darkened as he slowly ran his gaze up and down her body, and Anja forgot to breathe under that silent assessment. She had to resist the urge to fidget with her hair, and an army of butterflies seemed to have taken up residence in her lower tummy. This was ridiculous. She didn't react to any man like that, well not outside of her dreams, anyway. Even Declan with his all-too-obvious good looks and easy charm hadn't made her feel lightheaded like this. And this man reduced her to a simpering version of a Regency heroine with just one glance?
Too much coffee, that's what it was. Easy on the caffeine in future and stop gawping at him, girl.
"Hi, I'm Anja. So glad you found us. We haven't met before, have we?" The words came out far too breathy, and Mary threw her a surprised look. The stranger didn't seem to notice the effect he was having on her.
Thank the Lord for small mercies.
The last thing she needed was to make a spectacle of herself in full view of the rolling camera crews. Much to her surprise, a news van had turned up for the open day, and they were going to do a special feature on the shelter on the six o'clock news. Mary had been beside herself with excitement. The segment would go out tomorrow night with an appeal for sponsorship, and the reporter had been unobtrusively filming in the background all day. He trained his camera on Anja and the long line of people waiting for their evening meal. Mindful of the audience, Anja bit back the smart words bubbling on her tongue when the stranger in front of her grunted in response to her question and pointedly stared at her boobs.
Now that was just plain rude.
He leaned closer and pointed towards the pot of homemade soup with another grunt, and Anja jumped into action. Of course he would be hungry. He needed food, a shower, and a bed for the night, not to be subjected to her fevered imaginings.
"There you are." She passed him a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a chunk of bread. He grabbed the bowl of food from her, and she reared back in surprise. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm at the simple contact of his hand brushing hers. Heat flooded her cheeks, and her fingers tingled. Their newest arrival seemed completely unaffected, however. He slurped the soup down, pointedly stared at her boobs again, and then turned his back on her. He snarled at one of the overeager reporters approaching the food station, and Mary deftly intercepted before the man could take offense.
The newcomer slumped into a seat, shut his eyes, and promptly started snoring. Despite his obnoxious behavior Anja couldn't help but get annoyed at the reaction of those around him. They gave him a wide berth. The smell emanating off him was unpleasant, but everyone had a story, and this man had as much right to be here as anyone. As soon as the last person in the line had been served, she walked up to him and shook his arm to rouse him. She was prepared for the jolt this time, but not for the deep, gravelly voice wrapping itself around her senses.
"No need to manhandle me. I move."
"I wasn't. The day is winding down, that's all and—"
"You want me to fuck off out of here, I get it." He interrupted her and shook her hand still curled around his surprisingly hard biceps off with an almost feral growl. Again, Anja was reminded of Mutt, and she shook her head to clear the fanciful notion away.
"No, that's not it at all. The shelter is filled to capacity, but I thought you might want to take a shower, and I'm sure we can find you something warmer to wear at least, before you set off again."
"I don't need your pity or charity, lady." He growled the words and rose to his full height.
"I'm not in the habit of handing out pity, Mister, and if you don't want charity, then don't come to a shelter. It's really no skin off my nose whether you want to freeze to death out there, but as you're here now I feel obliged to offer you some help. If you don't want to take it that's your prerogative, of course."
To her surprise he laughed, showing an even set of teeth, and Anja shook her head at an advancing Mary. She could handle this just fine. He ran a hand through his straggly, shoulder-length hair, the color of which she couldn't determine, caked as it was in seeming days' worth of dirt.
She stiffened her spine, drew her shoulders back in an effort to make herself taller, and tore her eyes away from the width of his chest shaking in now-silent amusement. Was he laughing at her?
"What in the world is so amusing?" She tried for her haughtiest tone, but failed miserably. There was an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes.
"Quite the ball-buster, aren't you, lady?"
"Not usually, no, and the name is Anja. Are you going to tell me your name or do I call you Shaggy?"
His eyebrows rose, and he stepped so close to her that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. She held her breath to escape the smell assaulting her senses, and he laughed again, before he mercifully took a step back.
"Shower, you say?"
Anja released the breath she'd been holding and nodded.
"I guess that would be a good idea."
"You think? What did you do? Roll in dung?" She slammed her hand on her mouth in horror at her insensitivity, but he just laughed, and murmured something she couldn't quite catch.
"Is everything all right, my dear?" Mary asked.
"Yes, fine. I was about to show him where the showers are. So if you’ll follow me..."
She weaved her way through the throng of people, out into t
he corridor, and up the steep stairs leading up to the second floor. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to know that he was following her, so aware was she of his presence. The wooden stairs creaked under her feet, yet he didn't make a sound despite his much heavier frame, his footfalls as light and graceful as a predator's. She stopped at the top of the stairs and watched his silent approach. Again she was struck by the contradiction between his appearance and his commanding presence. A presence that had her leaning towards him, even as her nose protested at the noxious fumes coming off his clothing.
She stepped to the side as he came close and gestured toward the door to the shower units. "Showers are in there. I'll see whether I can find you something fresh to wear. Mary just had a new batch of donated clothes in."
She risked a peek at his face and promptly wished she hadn't. The quiet intensity with which he was studying her did strange things to her equilibrium. She leaned against the wall for some support and breathed a sigh of relief when he smiled, turned, and walked through the open door towards the showers all lined up against the wall. He shrugged out of his jacket as he went, and even though she knew he would see her staring if he turned around, she couldn't quite get her feet to move. He discarded the jacket on the floor and toed out of the sorry excuse for shoes he was wearing. The muscles in his back bunched and moved as he made short work of his trousers, and Anja barely suppressed a gasp. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and he had the most perfect male ass she'd ever had the good fortune to ogle. And Anja was no stranger to ogling. The internet was a wonderful thing, after all.
He was surprisingly clean under the clothes. She heard him whistle as he turned the water on and stepped under the stream. Rivulets of dirt created an intricate pattern on his broad back as the filth washed out of his hair and ran down his torso, over the slim hips, trim ass, and powerful thighs, then down toward the tiled flooring of the wet room. He reached for one of the shower gels stacked along the wall and proceeded to lather up his hair. When he turned around Anja prepared herself to flee, but his eyes were closed, and she stood frozen to the spot, unable to tear her gaze away as he soaped up his body. She followed the movement of his hands with her eyes, and bit her lip when he reached his cock. Thick and long, it hung semi-erect between his legs and hardened under his ministrations.
Groaning, he cupped his shaft. He spread his legs and started pumping in earnest, putting one hand against the wall for support. Faster and faster that hand moved, and Anja rubbed her thighs together at the answering ache in her pussy. Who'd have thought that watching a man jack himself off would be such a turn-on? His face contorted as though in pain, his balls drew up, and his thighs shook, until finally with a roar of completion he shot his load into the streaming water and sagged back against the wall.
And still, she couldn't bring herself to move. Now that he was washed free of the grime, she could admire the powerful angles of his face. His shoulder-length hair stuck to his skin, and his full lips, partially hidden by his goatee, opened in a fanged smile. A smile she had seen countless times in his other form.
The room spun, and this time Anja couldn't hide her gasp when he opened his eyes and he stared straight at her. Mutt's golden eyes glowed, and the man's growl traveled across the distance separating them, as he grabbed a towel and stalked toward her.
Chapter Four
Ethan smiled grimly and allowed more of his wolf to show as he approached the trembling woman in his sights. She stood frozen to the spot. It wasn't fear coming off her, however, but arousal. The air was heavy with her scent, and he had no doubt that she was wet. He'd sensed her confusion and unwilling arousal aimed at the disheveled him the minute he'd touched her, and no matter how obnoxious his behavior, that hadn't changed. She couldn't understand why she reacted to him, but her body did, and his wolf rejoiced.
Ethan hadn’t had to act very much to be obnoxious. His wolf's reaction and the connection he felt to her in his human form had taken his breath away. It had taken all of his self-control to not simply grab her, crush her to him, and storm off with her slung over his shoulder like some sort of caveman. Was this the mate connection his father had always droned on about—this inexplicable pull to one female to the exclusion of all else? Ethan had always scoffed at that part of his heritage, even as one by one his old pack mates had mated and settled down until he was the only one left. He'd left the pack as soon as he'd left school, wanting to make his own way in the world, but he'd kept in touch with them all. Or rather they had with him. He'd refused to take on the role of Alpha when his father had passed on. His cousin could do the job just as well as, if not better than he. Ethan had chosen to live amongst the humans. He used their females as he saw fit, when he needed to scratch an itch, and had thought himself safe from any mating call.
Until he met Anja, that is. He couldn't deny what his wolf had known from the minute he'd seen her. Why her, and why now, he had no idea. All he did know was that he needed to taste her or die trying. The fact that she'd stayed to watch him shower had been such a turn-on, he'd had no problem taking himself in hand and he'd reached completion in record time. All it had taken was imagining her lips wrapped around his cock, her small hands caressing his balls, to have him surge and roar his completion. Her increased scent and rapid heartbeat had told him she was as aroused as he was by what she'd witnessed.
He wrapped the towel around his middle, mindful of the fact that anyone could come up those stairs, and stopped just in front of her. Her breathing sped up and her eyes widened, but she stood her ground. She put a hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer and shook her head in denial. His skin heated where her hand branded him like a hot poker, and his wolf almost rolled over in submission.
When she finally spoke, her voice was a mere whisper, barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from below, as someone opened a door. "How? Why? You can't be."
He cupped her chin to make her look at him, and her eyes focused on his fangs. Heat rose in her cheeks, and again he had to strain to hear her whispered words.
"It wasn't a dream, was it?"
He shook his head, but before he could reassure her, Mary's heavy footsteps on the stairs forced him to retract his wolf.
"Anja, you still up here? I brought you some clothes that should fit the tall fellow. These were my late husband's, and he was rather more portly than him, but they should be long enough and oh—"
Mary stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs, taking in the scene. Anja gasped, and shook her head.
“I’ve got to get away from here.” She muttered the words and fled past an astonished-looking Mary.
Ethan's gut clenched, and his wolf whined. He forced the animal to stand down. He was as anxious as his wolf to make sure Anja was all right, but he could hardly go chasing after her with just a towel wrapped around his middle, and shifting was out of the question. Mary pursed her lips and handed him the bundle of clothes.
"Seems I've interrupted something here. Now, listen, matey, Anja doesn't need another man messing her around." She put her hand up to silence him when he would have interrupted her. "No, let me finish. She's like a daughter to me, and all I want is for her to be happy. She's done so much around here, and she deserves some happiness."
She paused and ran an assessing glance over his body that made him smile. "I've seen the way she looks at you, the connection you've shared with her from the first time she dragged you in here. I wasn't sure what you were at first, but I figured it out when you went for his lordship like that, and then seeing her reaction when you walked in. I recognize the look of a wolf who's chosen his mate." She gestured to the clothes he was holding with a sad smile. "There is a reason why those are tall enough for you. My husband was a shifter, and if you can bring Anja an ounce of the happiness my wolf brought me, then you have my blessing. Hurt her, and I'll have your pelt to decorate my living room. Do we understand each other?"
Ethan's wolf growled, but the man's smile deepened. He bowed his head in acknowledgement
, and Mary smirked.
"I told her under all that grime you'd be a looker." She gave his body another visual once-over and then made her way back down the stairs.
Ethan couldn't help it. He laughed out loud. His life had just gotten all sorts of complicated.
****
Anja clutched Mary's present like a shield in front of her. It had been four days since she had fled from the shelter as though the hounds of hell were after her. Four days during which she'd had plenty of time to sort through her feelings and berate herself for her foolishness. What the hell was wrong with her anyway? First, she picked the useless Declan, and then a man who turned into an animal and bayed at the moon? At least she hadn't slept with him. Surely that dream didn't count? If only her wayward body would get the message. She relived that damn dream every time she closed her eyes. She was tired, irritable, and so damn horny no amount of dates with her little pink friend seemed to be able to cure them. And to make matters worse, she could smell him, still. She'd aired her flat out until she'd been in danger of catching frostbite, and she'd lost count of how many times she'd washed and changed the sheets, and still, a whiff of his intoxicating scent remained. It was enough to drive a girl to drink.
The daily phone calls she'd had with Mary were also not helping. The elderly woman did nothing but sing his praises. It was Ethan this, and Ethan that. You'd have thought the sun shone out of his ass, cute as it was, the way Mary was going on about all the handiwork he'd done around the place. At least it seemed as though the open day had been a success. They'd received several smaller donations, and a pledge from Montagu Enterprises. Mary's voice on the phone had been suspiciously tight when she'd told Anja about that, and Anja had known she couldn't hide away any longer. Her business acumen would be needed for the scheduled meetings with the representative of the elusive billionaire's company.
A Mutt in Disguise Page 3