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“Uh-huh. With like, what? Ten, twenty people?”

“Ten, twenty... three hundred. Whatever.”

Smitty groaned. “Forget it, Jessie Ann.”

“Smitty—”

“I don’t need a piece of paper telling me I love you and that we’re together forever.” He reached up and brushed the already-healing wound on her shoulder. Her eyes closing, Jessie gave a pain-filled grunt. So he brushed his fingers across it again. This time Jessie snarled and went to grab his hand. He caught her wrists instead and yanked her close.

“I don’t need some preacher to make real what we have.”

“But—”

He released her hands only to grip both sides of her face and yank her down for a kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth and Jessie pulled hers back so he had to reach for it. That’s when she bit down.

Smitty jerked and she raised a single, challenging eyebrow. He flipped her onto her back, pinning her arms above her head. Jessie stared up at him with no fear, no regret. Only lust. She didn’t fear the rabid Smith side she’d unleashed and could come out at any minute. In fact, she continued to egg that side of him on. Daring him to take her on a hard, fast, rough ride.

And what kind of Southern gentlemen would he be if he ignored the lady’s request?

In the future, she might want to consider the consequences of calling a Smith wolf’s bluff. Because one second he had her wrists pinned to the floor, the next they were tied to the couch leg by utilizing the straps of her backpack. She had to give it to the man, SEAL training definitely taught him how to make the best of what he had at his disposal.

Once he had her wrists tied, he had free rein of the rest of her body. And he took full advantage of that fact. Keeping her on edge for what felt like forever. Teasing her, torturing her. Making her legs shake and then pulling back and leaving her hanging. His mother’s last words to her came back to haunt her: “... the best ride you’ll ever have.” And it was. The best, the roughest, the most demanding.

Jess loved every second of it. And when he finally let her come, she couldn’t even scream. Instead, her entire body bowed and she could only shake and gasp, the orgasm rolling and rolling until she thought she’d lose her mind.

When her body stopped shaking and her eyes uncrossed, she discovered he’d already untied her and was sleeping beside her. Snoring. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding on to her like he thought she might try to sneak away.

And she might have—if she could actually walk.

With all that late-night tusslin’, Smitty thought he’d worn her out. He should have known better.

Her naked body landed right on his stomach and she slapped her hands against his chest like she was playing bongo drums.

“What?” he groaned, trying to turn over and go back to sleep.

“It’s morning!” she cheered.

“And?”

“Let’s go hunting! You and me taking down a deer or elk. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

“No, go back to sleep, Jessie Ann.”

Those hands slapped at his chest again and he snarled. Unfortunately, Jessie didn’t seem too put off by that.

“Come on, Smitty! It’s a beautiful morning. Everything is covered in snow and the sun is shining bright. But it may snow again later, so let’s do this now.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s morning,” she insisted.

“Jessie Ann.”

“Six-thirty.”

His eyes popped open and he glared at the beautiful naked woman on his chest. “You woke me up at six-thirty in the morning? Woman, have you lost your mind?”

“Come on, Smitty,” she whined. “I need my wild dog morning greeting.”

“Which is?”

“Ummm... let’s see. Hugs, chaste kisses, and nose rubs between Packmates.”

Smitty shook his head. “Nah, I can’t do all that.” She pouted, looking more adorable than was fair. In resignation, he offered, “I can fuck you until you pass out.”

Jessie shrugged and sighed. “Well... if that’s the best you can do.”

Smitty turned his muzzle away, refusing to participate. Jess tapped him again, forcing the issue. Her Pack wasn’t here, so he’d have to do for now. He still tried to ignore her, so she slapped the deer’s femur against his head and whined just enough to be annoying but not make him storm away.

Growling, Smitty looked around like he expected to find someone watching them. When he seemed to conclude the coast was clear, he gripped the other end of the bone between his massive jaws and pulled. Jess pulled back and Smitty dug his feet in, forcing Jess to work.

It was true. Somehow, some way, she’d gotten Bobby Ray Smith to play tug in the snow with the remnants of their morning meal.

She gave herself another month before she’d have the snobby wolf bastard chasing his tail too.

It wasn’t until her elbow hit his ribs that he woke up.

“You’re missing the best part.”

“There’s a best part?”

Jessie sighed. “See? Once again proving my point we have nothing in common.”

“I’m sorry. I just can’t get past the ears.”

She turned off the DVD. “They’re elves. They’re supposed to have pointy ears.”

Smitty yawned and sat up straight. “There’s gotta be something we can both agree to watch.”

“Like?”

“Uh... westerns?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Jessie finger-combed her hair behind her ear. “What about a good British mystery?”

“British? Isn’t that like the elves?”

“Forget the British.”

“How about horror movies?”

“You mean like scary ones that are psychological in nature, taking you to the ultimate brink of fear?”

“Nah, I meant zombie ones.”

“Zombies?” Jessie shrugged. “I never got the zombie thing. I mean, they’re already dead. Why do they need blood?”

“Forget the zombies.” Smitty glanced at the bookshelf holding one of the Pack’s DVD collections. Floor to ceiling and three cases deep, it seemed to have every geek movie ever made. Amazing. All those movies and nothing they could agree on. On a sigh, hope gone, he mumbled, “The Godfather?”

“One, two, or three?”

“That third one doesn’t exist for me.”

Jessie turned to face him, her eyes wide in shock. “The third one doesn’t exist for me either.”

Afraid to hold out hope, Smitty asked, “Goodfellas?”

“In my top five. But anything by Scorsese or Coppolla is a must-see. If not a must-see two thousand times.” She took his hand, held it against her chest. “What about the old black and white ones? From the thirties and forties?”

“Anything with Jimmy Cagney.”

“I love Jimmy Cagney.” Her grip on his hand tightened. “We actually have something in common, Bobby Ray. I’m so happy I’m gonna cry.”

“And if we have one thing in common, I’m sure we have others.”

Jessie patted his hand. “Let’s not push it, baby.”

“Good point.”

Jess sat on the couch by the window, staring out at the snow-covered trees just outside the house. Except for the fire blazing in the fireplace, the house was dark and quiet. She’d called in earlier, made sure her Pack was okay. They were and apparently having a great time during the storm. Although Shaw had been heard muttering, “I’m so calling a zoo for those pups.”

Strong fingers stroked down the column of her neck. “You all right, darlin’?”

“I’m fine.”

Smitty sat on the other end of the couch and they stared at each other. Jess had no idea for how long, until Smitty opened his arms. “Come here, darlin’.” She did, crawling over to him and settling in between his legs, her back to his chest. He held her tight, his chin resting on her now-healed shoulder, although she had no doubt it wouldn’t be the last time he tore into it. She expected it to look like his mother’s one day.