Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
But when I see Wilde stalking toward the Jeep, I know that he knows.
His eyes flash green as he climbs behind the wheel. He says nothing to me.
Absolutely nothing. Which isn’t like him. He’s stewing. A bad sign.
Then, he doesn’t drive home. He drives up into the mountains, past the mesa where kids hang out and drink on weekends.
“Where are we going?” I finally dare to ask.
He doesn’t answer.
Finally, he pulls up in front of a cabin. I know this place. Well, I’ve heard of it. It’s Abe and Austin’s cabin. Or their dad’s. A place they use during full moon runs. Or to sneak off and have sex.
My heart starts hammering. “What are we doing?”
Wilde jumps out of the Jeep and stalks toward the cabin. I follow. He reaches for the key up above the door frame and unlocks the door.
“Wilde?”
He turns to look at me with wolf eyes and tips his head in the direction of the door he’s holding open for me. “We’re going inside. I’m going to smack your ass pink while you explain to me why Lincoln thinks he’s taking you to Homecoming.”
Wilde
I’m gonna kill that kid. I am seriously going to rip out the human’s throat for asking Rayne to the dance.
I just keep praying there’s some kind of explanation here. Something I can’t see through the green haze of my wolf’s jealous frenzy.
Why in the fuck would Rayne agree to go with him?
I don’t wait for her to walk in. I wrap one arm around her waist and carry her inside, straight to the side of the couch where I place her, belly down, ass out. I’m spanking her before I can even think.
“Ow! Wilde!” She reaches a hand back to cover her ass. I twist it behind her back and continue the spanking.
I’m not sure there’s much thought traveling from my brain to my hand. All I know is that it satisfies me to feel the impact. To be alone with her here. To have her pinned down, completely under my control. My dick strains at the zipper of my jeans.
I need more. I want to feel her bare skin beneath my palm. To see the bloom of my handprint on her ass.
I stop and release her. “Take them off.”
She whirls, face red, chest heaving. “What?”
“Your clothes. Take them off. You know how you get punished by me.” I flick my brows. “Naked.”
Instead of fighting me or arguing, Rayne falls against my body, soothing my wolf. Her hands coast up my chest to look around my neck. My arms band around her back.
“Calm down.” She holds my gaze, showing me she’s here with me. It’s just the two of us.
No one else between us now.
“May I explain? Please?”
I give a jerky nod. I’m not sure I’m even capable of speech that doesn’t consist of growls or orders. It must be the approach of the full moon and this raging case of blue balls I have from sleeping next to Rayne every night.
The moment Abe told me Lincoln asked Rayne to the dance, and she said yes, I went feral. I don’t know how I even made it through the rest of practice. I definitely had to take my locker room shower ice cold.
Rayne climbs me like a tree, wrapping her sexy legs around my waist like a koala and tucking her face into my neck. Despite her offer to explain, she says nothing for a moment.
It’s okay, though. Having her body melded against mine soothes my wolf. My muscles start to relax as I breathe in her spring rain scent.
“I’ve never been to a school dance. Ever.”
It takes a moment for the meaning of her words to filter through my brain and unscramble to make sense. Rayne hasn’t been…she wants to go to a school dance.
Fuck.
Of course she does. It’s her senior year. She should get to experience that. Especially since she’s going to be Homecoming queen.
“Lincoln asked me as a friend. He made it clear–twice–it was just as friends.”
My hands tighten on her at the mention of Lincoln. My lips twist into a snarl.
“Shh,” she murmurs against my ear. “Just. Friends. I want to go to the dance. Obviously, you’re not going to take me.”
That missive hits me square in the chest.
I’m not sure what the obvious part is–because she’s my stepsister or because she’s Rayne the Runt, the girl I wouldn’t have been caught dead associating with before our parents married? A sort of sick, guilty feeling fills my belly at that thought.
Either way, she’s right. I’m not taking her to that dance. And she deserves to go.
But–fuck!
I don’t want any guy near her.
I guess my brain still isn’t fully functional because I find myself stalking to one of the bedrooms.
“Where are you going?” Rayne asks.
I should hear the nervous note to her voice, but it doesn’t register. I toss her in the center of the bed and rip my t-shirt off over my head.