My Sister Is A Werewolf yb-4

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My Sister Is A Werewolf yb-4 Page 3

by Kathy Love


  “So, Jill tells me that you grew up in West Pines,” Melanie said, drawing his attention to her.

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  Melanie smiled. She was a pretty woman with shoulder-length, honey-blond hair, gray-blue eyes, and a smattering of golden freckles across the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t hard to tell why Brian and Jill had introduced him to her. Blond hair and fresh-faced beauty. Just like Katie. The type he would be attracted to, except he felt nothing looking at Melanie. Not a twinge of attraction.

  He’d have to tell Brian that he appreciated his concern, but he wasn’t interested in meeting anyone. No more setups. Period.

  “And you are a veterinarian?”

  He nodded again.

  “Jill said that you are taking over your grandfather’s business. That he was also a vet.”

  “Still is-although he’s getting too old for some of the work. He doesn’t seem to know it, though.”

  Melanie laughed. A nice laugh, but again he felt nothing at the sound.

  He forced a smile, but the strained curve dissolved as he had that sensation again, the feeling someone was watching him. Again, he told himself to ignore it.

  “I’m not from around here,” she volunteered, and he realized he probably should have asked.

  “I grew up in Chicago, so this was a big change for me,” she continued. “But I really love it here. The area is so beautiful. The people are very warm. I teach third grade, and I enjoy my job. The children are a lot of fun.”

  The strange feeling persisted as he tried to follow Melanie’s words. Tingles ran over his body like whispering fingers on his warmed skin. He flicked a look around the room, half expecting to see a pale blonde with wide sky-blue eyes. Instead his gaze landed on a woman seated at the table facing them, his eyes drawn right to her as if she were a lodestone.

  Her head was tilted back just slightly, exposing a long, elegant neck and a billow of dark hair. A delicately pointed chin and full lips, the bottom one lusher than the top. Her eyes were closed, and those wide lips parted. For all the world, she looked like a woman right at the point of rapture.

  Instantly, his cock hardened, desire coursing through him that matched the look on the woman’s face.

  Then her chin lowered and her eyes opened. She met his gaze unerringly as if she’d known he’d been watching her. Their eyes met. Attraction, need tightened his muscles; his penis pressed against the unforgiving material of his jeans. Stunned, he looked away, facing Melanie, not seeing her.

  A wave of something akin to nausea joined the desire in his body. What the hell? Here he was, telling himself that he wasn’t interested in meeting anyone. And he wasn’t. His libido had been on hiatus for a long time. But then, in the span of an instant, he was getting rock-hard over a total stranger.

  “Did you like it?”

  Jensen blinked, realizing that Melanie was still talking to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he blinked again, trying to focus, “what did you say?”

  She smiled, not seeming to sense his distraction. “Jill said you went to college in New York. Did you like it there?”

  “I did,” he managed to say, even though he could still feel the other woman’s eyes on him. His excitement spiked.

  He slid a glance in her direction. She was watching him, her light blue eyes, almost eerily pale, direct and unblinking.

  Who was she? Why was she staring at him?

  “… I didn’t know how I’d like it here, because it’s so small-town. And aside from the occasional bout of loneliness, I have really liked the change. Small towns are all that people say. Everyone knows each other. And people care about each other, help each other. It’s nice.”

  Jensen nodded again, realizing that Melanie probably thought bobbing his head up and down was the extent of his communication abilities. And at the moment, it was. Again, he caught a glimpse of the pale-eyed woman in his peripheral vision. A man approached her, and he tried to feel relief. Her boyfriend or husband-that was good. But instead he felt oddly irritated.

  “Of course,” Melanie said with a small, rather shy smile that still managed to show she could be interested in him, “it’s always nice to have a new face in town.”

  He forced another smile back. This was too damned weird. Yet he couldn’t stop glancing again at the stranger. She sat, perfectly still, her attention trained on him. She didn’t even seem to register the man beside her. Jensen shifted, his body reacting to that steady gaze as if it was a touch, stroking over him, teasing his burning skin.

  “Here we are,” Brian said, setting down another soda water in front of him. Both Brian and Jill took their seats, and the other woman was mostly blocked from his view.

  Good, Jensen told himself. His reaction to the woman had to be an aberration, a response brought on by too many memories. He just wanted to have another quick drink and then go home.

  “Hey there, what’s a pretty lady like you doing sitting by herself?”

  Elizabeth flicked a quick look at the man who braced his arms on the table, leaning toward her. Then she returned her gaze to the other man. The man with the eyes like the deepest forest.

  But in that glance, she had made note of the man next to her. He was average height, muscular, good-looking in a rough sort of way. His blond hair was shaggy. His jeans were a little greasy on the thighs, like he’d been working on a vehicle of some kind and had used the denim as a wipe rag. The same engine grease lined his fingernails.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” the shaggy blonde asked.

  “No,” she heard herself say, not looking at him. She had to watch the one with the eyes, the forest eyes. She had to study each of his moves. Tracking her prey.

  “Come on, one drink won’t hurt. I’m as harmless as a lamb.”

  Elizabeth tore her gaze from the man she wanted, meeting the blonde’s eyes directly.

  “But I’m not,” she stated, her voice little more than a low growl.

  Instead of being turned off by her warning, the blonde’s interest heightened, his attraction filling the air like the musk of an animal. He wanted her. He wanted sex.

  “Well, that’s how I like my women. Dangerous.” He grinned, and more arousal radiated from him.

  Go with him. Take him back to his place, screw his brains out, and get yourself under control. One human male will serve your purpose as well as another.

  No, not just any man would do. Only one.

  “Go away,” she stated flatly, looking back to the man at the other table, although she was irritated to see her view was blocked by his returned friends. No matter, she could still keep an eye him.

  “Come on-”

  “Go now,” she snarled, and maybe this time there was just enough crazy in her eyes, because the shaggy blonde backed away. Then he shrugged, trying to look as if he couldn’t care less that she’d rejected him. He strolled back to his friends, a table of men who all watched her with interested eyes.

  She registered their attention, then moved hers back to her target. She shifted so she could see that he was taking occasional sips of a drink, listening to his friends, but talking very little himself. And he was making a concerted effort not to look at her.

  Pointless. She’d have his full attention before the end of the night.

  He leaned toward the pretty blonde at his side, trying to hear something she said over the off-key croon of yet another karaoke singer. The woman touched his arm as she spoke.

  A shard of possessiveness ripped through her. He was her man. At least for tonight.

  That could be his girlfriend, his wife, her reasonable mind murmured, the notion barely registering through her need.

  So. She just wanted the use of his body. Then the blonde could have him back.

  “I heard you weren’t interested in my buddy.”

  A growl built in the back of her throat at yet another interruption, but some tenuous hold on her human side made her restrain the noise. Still, her only thought was that she couldn’t lose si
ght of her prey. She didn’t even glance at the new speaker. All her senses were locked on the man at the table in front of her.

  “Maybe I’m more your type.”

  She fought back another irritated growl, but this time she did turn to the man standing very close to her.

  This guy was taller than the last, more muscled, a goatee and an arrogant twist to his lips. His hair was equally as shaggy as the blonde’s, but a shade darker, somewhere between blond and brown.

  She let her gaze move slowly down his body. Thickly muscled arms, a broad, equally muscled chest. A noticeable bulge was outlined by his faded jeans.

  “No, you’re not my type,” she stated, her voice low and husky with need, but not for this mortal.

  Then she sensed her man moving.

  She whipped her eyes back to him just as he rose from his chair. Tall, lean muscles moving under his blue button-down shirt, long legs encased in worn jeans carrying him smoothly across the bar. She started to rise, too. She had to follow him. But the man at her side touched her arm.

  She sneered at him, registering him as little more than an annoyance, then she made to follow the other man, noting that he headed to the men’s room rather than the exit.

  “Now, you are hardly giving me a fair shot here,” the man beside her said, catching her wrist in a large hand.

  She spun back to him, this time not containing the growl that rumbled from deep in her throat. The man’s eyes widened slightly at the sound, but still he didn’t release her.

  “Let me go,” she warned, intense rage filling her. This was her chance. She had to go after her man. She couldn’t allow anything to come between herself and her choice.

  But instead of dropping her wrist, the man tugged her toward him. Her body hit his, her chest brought fully against his massive one. The contact enraged her more, all her instincts growling, fight. And she obeyed. She shoved him hard, barely controlling the strength of her overstimulated body.

  The large man launched through the air, crashing down on a tabletop. The man and the table crumpled to the ground, the noise causing everyone at the bar to turn in her direction. The music, lyric-less and oddly discordant, did nothing to fill the sudden silence of the room. All eyes were on the man-then on her. Even the latest karaoke singer just gaped, his hand on the mic.

  Elizabeth looked around her, then back to the man, who struggled to his feet. She backed away, stunned by what she’d done-or rather, what the wolf had done.

  God, she was losing it. She was totally out of control. She had to leave now, while her rational mind had taken a brief hold on her thoughts.

  “Elizabeth,” Christian said, appearing at her elbow. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and steady, as if he knew he was talking to someone who was more animal than human.

  Shame filled her. What did her brother think of her now? There was no disguising that she was not the Elizabeth he remembered. Not now.

  She didn’t meet his eyes as she nodded.

  “Is she okay?” the man she’d just shoved demanded. “She’s the one who attacked me.” He jabbed an angry finger in her direction. “Crazy bitch.”

  She opened her mouth to apologize, but only a low, angry growl escaped her throat. Christian stepped between them.

  “Then maybe you should take your hands off a lady when she asks,” her brother said, his voice still even but leaving no room for argument.

  The man glared at them both, then called to his friends, loudly announcing what he thought of this establishment and its owners.

  Once he and his buddies left, Jolee came on the microphone announcing that the still-gaping man at the mic was going to start his song again.

  As soon as the music restarted, the bar patrons settled back into normalcy, most of them continuing their socializing, only a little more subdued than before.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Christian asked again.

  “I’m okay,” she assured him, even as she felt the wolf rising in her again. She had to get out of here. “I’m just going to go.”

  Christian looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he nodded. “Be careful.” Then he smiled. “Although I think you are pretty capable of taking care of yourself.”

  She thought she might have seen pride in his eyes, but she was too embarrassed and too afraid to be sure.

  She mumbled her farewell and rushed to the door. She needed to go back to her house, away from people. She was dangerous. She’d never acted like this. Never. Something was very, very wrong.

  Rain now fell in a steady drizzle as she stepped out into the parking lot. She put distance between herself and the bar, stopping in the shadows among the parked cars to gather herself.

  Raising her face toward the sky, she prayed for the cold rain to dampen down some of the heat inside her. Heat from embarrassment and from the desire still swirling inside her, unsatisfied and growing.

  She had no idea how long she’d been standing there when she heard the bar door open and the crunch of footsteps on wet gravel. Her body tensed. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who was coming in her direction. She could smell him. Woodsy, clean, and so, so tempting.

  She opened her eyes to see her man, walking right toward her, his tall, strong body silhouetted against the lights of the bar. And just like that, the wolf was back and in full control.

  She stepped out of the shadows in front of him.

  “Hi there,” her voice was low, husky, and full of hunger.

  “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in giving me a ride.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Jensen came to a halt as the figure appeared from between two parked cars, directly in front of him. It took him only a fraction of a second to recognize who the tall, slender form was. The watcher. She’d seemed to materialize out of the darkness, appearing now as quickly as she’d disappeared.

  He’d noticed that she was gone as soon as he’d come out of the rest room, making an escape of his own. He’d assumed she’d left with the rough-looking giant, whom he’d noticed talking to her. He’d felt oddly disappointed, even as he told himself she, with her leather jacket and pants, appeared well-suited to the dangerous-looking man. And it wasn’t as if Jensen was going to talk to her himself.

  Or so he’d thought.

  And now she was asking him for a ride. And he got the feeling she was talking about a ride that wouldn’t necessarily get her safely home. Again, his muscles reacted, tensing with need.

  Stop, he ordered his rebellious libido that had suddenly chosen tonight to decide it had been long neglected.

  “Are you having a problem with your car?” he asked, managing to sound far more relaxed than he felt.

  “No,” she said, taking a step toward him. The movement brought her into the light.

  His eyes started to move down her trim body, but he stopped himself. “Did your ride leave you?”

  “No,” she said again, then smiled. His pulse reacted instantly to the wide curve of her lips-his muscles vibrated with desire. She was definitely a beautiful woman.

  You’re not interested, he reminded himself. Despite what his body might think. And it thought being alone in a vehicle with her was a freaking fantastic idea. Still, he ignored his body’s enthusiasm.

  “So, if you aren’t having car problems, and your ride hasn’t left you, then I’m not sure why you need a ride from me.”

  Her smile turned indulgent as if she knew that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being alone with her.

  “I have my motorcycle,” she said, tilting her head toward a silver-and-black bike parked against the bar. “Not a good night for driving on these twisty roads.”

  She held out her hands, palms up, as if to display the rain falling on them. “At least not on two wheels.”

  Jensen couldn’t argue with that, but reluctance still kept him motionless. He couldn’t be alone with this woman.

  “But I guess if you aren’t interested in helping a lady in distress… ” Her words trailed of
f, and she started toward the bike. A bike that looked too big for her to handle on a dry, straight road, much less a rain-slicked, winding one.

  Shit. He couldn’t have her on his conscience, too.

  “My truck is this way,” he said, walking away from her, not waiting, not looking. Like that would stop his body from reacting to her.

  Just give her a ride, then go home. No big deal.

  He heard her boots on the gravel, then she was beside him. Though she was at least a couple of feet away, he swore he could feel the heat radiating off of her body.

  This was not good, he told himself. His body sizzled merrily in her heat, not listening.

  She didn’t speak until they reached the truck; he unlocked her side first and opened the door, making sure he made no contact with her.

  “Gallant,” she murmured with another smile as she slid up onto the bench seat.

  He laughed wryly. “I don’t know about that.” Not with the way he was feeling at the moment.

  He crossed to the driver’s side, unlocked the door, and joined her in the dark vehicle. He didn’t glance at her as he slid the key into the ignition.

  “I wouldn’t want you to be too gallant, though,” she said, her husky voice brushing over him. The desire crackling through his limbs flared.

  He shot her a quick look, then shifted the truck into Drive. When they reached the road, he braked. “Which way to your house?”

  “Right,” she said, pointing in the correct direction, her eyes never leaving him.

  He nodded, trying to concentrate on driving, which was no easy task. He could feel her eyes locked on him, studying him.

  “I guess I should introduce myself,” he said after a moment, the uneasy silence making him more aware of her gaze. “I’m Jensen.”

  She smiled. “Hi, Jensen.” She didn’t offer her name.

  Again silence filled the vehicle, the only sound the whir of the tires, and the rhythmic swish of the wipes. Yet, his senses were overwhelmed. He could feel her just a few inches away, smell her, realizing the spicy, rich scent he’d smelled in the bar had been her-although that didn’t seem possible.

 

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