What a woman, even if she’s not my type. He preferred not to worry about getting hurt when he slept with a woman. His gaze dropped to the top of Francine’s head. He couldn’t see the little firecracker hurting a fly.
Sliding into the vacated spot beside Francine, he couldn’t stop the jolt of awareness that made his body flare to life as his thigh brushed hers. A sharp inhalation of her breath told him she felt it too. She turned startled eyes his way and he grinned, enjoying the blush that crept into her freckled cheeks.
While not gorgeous by model standards, he couldn’t deny her girl next door appeal. Wild-haired, bright-eyed, and with lips that could only improve if they wrapped around his cock, she owned a set of curves begging for a man’s touch. What an idiot that Mitchell was for not claiming her. I could bite her and steal her out from under him, then the little wolf would belong to me. He almost recoiled from her when his thoughts veered into that unknown territory. Alejandro did not claim women. Flirt with them, fuck them, and make them cry as he left, yes, but mark one to keep as his own? Why bind himself to one when he could enjoy a variety?
It occurred to him that the challenge she posed with her I’m-taken-but-not stance probably made her appealing. Anything else was just foolish, or caused by a lack of sleep. He’d needed to put as many miles as possible between him and a certain situation he fled.
“Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you mentally conversing with aliens?” she asked, breaking his inner train of thought.
He recovered quickly. “Just wondering how that overgrown dog hasn’t recognized what a gem you are?”
Again, that beautiful blush colored her cheeks. “Mitchell has issues with seeing me as something other than a sister. Naomi and I have been hanging out since we were babies. Apparently, that makes getting with me gross.”
“I’d say he’s a moron if he hasn’t noticed you’ve grown up, and might I say, nicely.” He flashed her the hundred watt grin that dropped panties wherever he went.
Hers stayed intact. A snort escaped her. “My God, are you always like this?”
“Like what? Charming and handsome?”
“Conceited and flirty.”
“Now you wound me,” he said, clasping her hand and pressing it to his chest. Again, a jolt went through him and his heart rate increased.
“I doubt it,” she replied, but her eyes remained locked to his and she didn’t pull away.
“Alejandro, stop flirting with my brother’s almost mate and come over here to meet my family.” With regret, he let go of her hand, and she ducked her head as he stood. Thank God my leather pants are tight, he thought as he made sure his untucked t-shirt hung over his groin, further hiding his semi-erection.
I really need to get laid if a simple conversation at a baby shower is making me horny. He usually enjoyed better self-control.
Linking her arm in his, Naomi dragged him around, introducing him to folks scattered around the room. He shook hands with several of her brothers, none of whom gave him an urge to punch their lights out like the annoying Mitchell. He met her uncomfortable-looking father, Geoffrey, and several aunts and cousins. He fawned over Naomi’s mother’s hand, which made the older woman laugh and her husband glare. By the time they’d come full circle, his head spun with names and faces, the place packed with shifters. Judging by the tic on Ethan’s face, he recognized the possibility of an explosion with so many animals in one place. And everyone knew how Naomi disliked chaos in her house.
This could get interesting, but not as interesting as the round ass he caught a glimpse of, bent over and straining the fabric covering it, as Francine began to hand Naomi the gifts.
Maybe he acted a little hastily in deciding to not pursue the little firecracker. Perhaps she wouldn’t find herself averse to a little strings-free fun. He’d just have to make sure Naomi and her mates didn’t find out. Sneaky sex in other words. God, that made the prospect even more exciting. But how to get her alone?
He trusted fate, and his usual luck with women, would see him getting to know the feisty redhead better, make that naked and sweaty.
Annoyed, but unable to figure out the exact cause, Mitchell stalked home and flopped full length on his parents’ couch, trying not to feel like such a coward for fleeing. For years it became second nature to avoid Francine, but tonight, actually seeing her, smelling her for the first time since their teen years, he discovered something he never expected. She’s hot! Actually, more than hot; sexy, curvy and with an enticing aroma that made him want to sink to his knees and bay at her like he’d worship the moon.
It seemed almost sick to think it. Little pig-tailed Francine, pain in his ass, with her shrill voice, raucous ways, and determined chasing, had gone from annoying pest to luscious beauty. Even closing his eyes, he couldn’t erase the sight of her from his mind, but in his mental vision, she wore nothing, just some freckles begging that he count them with his lips.
Cock hardening, he jumped up from the couch and paced. Wrong, so wrong. A temporary aberration because he’d not shagged anyone in a while. He’d rectify that problem ASAP because no matter what his prick thought, Francine was off limits. And as for his wolf’s interest, it probably stemmed from a desire to protect her from that suave Casanova sniffing around her. Of course, some might have seen his outburst as jealousy, but Mitchell knew better. He’d have done the same thing for Naomi. But Francine is a grown woman, his mind slyly reminded. She can date whoever she wants. Mitchell growled and his fist lashed out to connect with the tough wood paneling installed years ago at their mother’s behest because she’d tired of the holes in the plaster.
Obviously needing to vent, he headed to the basement gym and the sorry-looking punching bag, duct taped because of the abuse suffered over the years. It was while he pummeled the inanimate object into submission that he realized something. If Francine’s car was broken down, how would she get home?
Whacking at the heavy bag, he tried to convince himself that Naomi would get one of her mates or cousins to take Francine back. But the more he tried to tell himself that, the more he couldn’t help picturing Javier’s brother with Francine’s arms wrapped around him as they took off on that death trap of his. Not on his watch, they wouldn’t.
Quickly, he showered, dressed, then drove down the road and parked, waiting for Francine to emerge, too chicken to go inside where he just knew the whole family, namely his mother and Naomi, would watch him with arched brows. He told himself as he sat waiting that he did this for her own safety. He wouldn’t want his sister riding with a stranger at night with no helmet.
But even as he kept saying that to himself, he couldn’t help hearing maniacal laughter and a mocking chant in his head. Liar, liar, pants on fire. What a shame he couldn’t punch himself. Aw well, maybe if he got lucky, he’d get the chance to punch someone else.
Chapter Three
As the baby shower wound down, Francine began to wonder how she’d get home. A taxi from here would cost more cash than she carried. Her car at least had been towed. Aunt Kerry, upon hearing her troubles, called her husband, a mechanic, to tow it to his garage.
Approaching her friend, surrounded by miniature pieces of clothing and baby toys, Francine couldn’t help smiling at her obvious happiness.