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«Shit, you're a horse,» she gasped, sniffling a laugh. «You said I'd have time to get used to all this.»

He pressed his head against her ribs and whined softly, quivering from nose to tail. She stroked the thick, stiff fur of his neck. When she sank to her knees, he stretched out on the grass beside her.

She murmured nonsense with all the love she could push into her voice and slowly, slowly, his body relaxed and his breathing returned to normal.

The cops and the EMTs moved in to pick up Danny's body. She stayed in the grass with Taran and stroked his flank until the ambulance took off, sirens blaring. Maybe twenty minutes had passed; it felt like they'd been there for hours.

«Lark?»

Taran raised his head, and she turned to see Nick standing a couple feet away. She started blubbering in earnest and rose to her feet.

«No, Lark, don't,» he said softly. «Stay there. I'll come to y'all.»

Taran whined softly to see his Alpha.

«I couldn't do that,» she snuffled.

«Do what, honey?» Nick replied as he stroked Taran's head and made alpha-sounding noises.

«Touch his head. The blood and stuff-it's squicking me out.»

Nick laughed, loudly, and it jarred something loose inside her. She could breathe freely again.

«Yeah, there's quite a bit of squick around here, isn't there? That's what happens when a wolf thinks someone's about to hurt his mate. Werewolves can be icky, says TJ.»

She snorted, then hiccupped. «Hey. Where'd the cops go?»

«Huh? Oh, I sent them on,» Nick said casually as he pulled at Taran's ears. «Y'all can give statements and everything tomorrow. Or Sunday. Whenever.»

She gaped at him. «The cops do what you tell them to? I mean, I know they're werewolves, but still…»

He shrugged. «I didn't tell them what to do, I just suggested it. Come on, pretty girl, why don't you go inside and get some sleep.»

«I can't sleep after all this!»

«Honey, you're about to pass out. I want you to do it in his bed, not out here.»

«What about Taran?» she protested as Nick took her hand and pulled her up.

«I'll stay with him. He won't change for a while yet, and he'll need me when he does. Take a shower and go to bed.»

«Oh. Shit. I don't have my stuff here anymore.»

«Your bag's in my car. I picked it up from TJ's.»

She stared at him in wonder. «You're incredible.»

Nick sighed. «Yeah. That's what I keep telling TJ.»

CHAPTER 8

He awoke with a brutal jolt; asleep one minute, awake the next, and for one terrifying moment he didn't know who or where he was.

The clock said three p.m.

He closed his eyes as scenes from last night floated through his head. A wolf's human memory of time spent on four feet varied depending on mood, circumstance, and emotion. More sensate than factual, impressions rather than events, remembering what happened while furry felt to a wolf like watching a movie with earplugs and a see-through blindfold. You could follow the plot, but it felt distant and removed.

Where was Lark?

She'd been here, asleep, when he finally fell into bed in the wee hours of the morning. Nick had stayed with him while he changed, then helped him into the house. He'd showered, careful not to wake her. She lay curled up in those damned flannel pants and T-shirt, smelling of apples and girl soap and Lark and love. He'd tucked the blanket around her and run a hand through her still-damp hair before Nick softly called him out to the kitchen to eat.

Lingering in the shower, he stretched as scalding water ran over his aching shoulders. Two showers, three showers, four might still not work out the soreness and stress of the last two weeks.

He finally relaxed when he heard Lark moving about in the bedroom. A part of him had worried she'd fled again.

The bar on the outside of the shower door was empty when he put his hand out for his towel. He stepped out, dripping water on the carpet.

Lark leaned against the counter, towel in hand, naked but for tiny lace panties and seriously high, spiked heels. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders, still smelling like apples.

Instantly his cock stiffened and rose. His mouth watered at the sight of her hard, rosy nipples and the dark, neatly trimmed patch peeking through the lace of her purple panties. He could still taste her in his memory.

He swallowed. «Have you been running around like that?»

The pulse in his throat jumped at her slow half-grin.

«I need my towel, please.» His voice shook, and he knew she heard it.

«If you come over here, I'll dry you off,» she said huskily. «You look like you could use some help.» Her hand drifted across her stomach, down to the waistband of her panties.

He smelled her heat, heard her heart. His blood turned to fire as it raced through his veins. His dick throbbed and pointed straight at her-go! that way!-but he stood rooted in place, paralyzed with lust, hands dangling at his side.

The look she gave him-hot, sultry, straight in the eye-left him gasping for breath. He didn't know this Lark, this cocky, confident woman who stared at him as if she owned him and could make him do what she wanted. She did, and she could, and it scared the shit out of him.

«Where have you been?»

«I went to see Meg.»

«You saw my mom?»

«Yes.»

«What the fuck for?»

«I'll tell you later.»

He knew he'd lost control of the situation; he just didn't know how.

«You'll tell me now.»

«No, I won't.» Her laughter filled the bathroom and tickled the pit of his stomach. She held his gaze. «You're still wet, and so am I.» Her hand dipped into her panties, and his whole body shuddered. «If you come over here right now, I promise to leave the heels on,» she whispered.

His body finally wrested control from his mind. He stumbled over to her. She pushed away from the counter to lay her hands lightly on his chest, and he bent his head, expecting a kiss. His lips met her hair. He gasped as she sucked the water off his skin. Her hands fluttered down his sternum, and she dragged her thumbnails across his obliques as she licked more droplets from his torso.

«I love your stomach,» she purred against his chest, pressing her palms flat against his belly. «I dream about your stomach. I'm gonna curl up and go to sleep on your stomach.» She pulled her head back to look up at him with a smirk. «You know what? I think carpet in a bathroom is a wonderful thing.»

He closed his eyes and fought for air. Desire wracked his body, his blood pounding in his ears.

He growled with need. He tried to put his hands on her ass, to pull her tight, but she sank to her knees, her soft tits slowly sliding down his body and over his aching, iron hard dick.

«Lark,» he moaned, «what are doing to me…»

«Shh,» she said. «Look in the mirror.»

His eyes flew open to see her head poised before his groin. She rubbed her cheek against his dick, and he reached down to gather chestnut silk in his hands. His stomach muscles spasmed as her fingers followed the hair running down his belly until they met her mouth.

She stroked his balls with one warm, supple hand and wrapped the other around the base of his swollen dick. He shuddered and sucked in his breath when she licked up the vein on the underside of the shaft. Then she took the head in her mouth and suckled, swirling her tongue around and around.

«God, yes,» he breathed between clenched teeth, «baby, that's…fuck, that's perfect, Lark, that feels so good.»

He felt her smile around the knob of his dick before she slid the rest of it into her mouth as far as it would go, until it touched the back of her throat. He gasped with awe and pleasure. Slowly she pulled it out, keeping her mouth tight around it like a popsicle. She laved the head with her sweet, hot tongue again, then took it all the way back into her mouth. Her hands stroked at a firm and steady pace with her mouth, working his shaft as she sucked.