In a flash, he's back on all fours, running down the mountain.
I give an indignant, joyful bark and bound after him, down the mountain, passing his sleek white and silver form just before we reach the saddle.
I shift back, laughing, and yank on my clothes. "Beat you."
He shifts and pulls on his jeans, too. "Of course you did." The satisfaction in his tone tells me he let me win, just like he let me throw him yesterday at the gym.
Just like he let you think he was interested in playing the field, my wolf whispers.
But no. That's dangerous, wishful thinking. I spent hundreds of hours in college sitting in my dorm trying to talk myself into believing that. But it didn't matter. Because even if it were true, I made sure he'd never speak to me again.
But he's here now, she whispers.
Yes. He's here now. Does that mean he's forgiven me?
Have I forgiven him?
Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Just enjoy this moment.
We hike back to the bike in the same comfortable silence. Ride back to my place. Trey doesn't get off his bike, like he's just dropping me off. Definitely not expecting sex.
The disappointment spearing my mid-section tells me I was hoping for it.
"You want to come in?" Oh crap. Do I sound desperate? He should be begging me, not the other way around.
His eyes flash silver. "Fuck, Sheridan. Of course I do."
"But?"
He shakes his head. "I can't." He sounds pained.
"Why not?"
His breath has grown quicker, the veins in his neck are popping out. "I have to get to Fight Club. We have an event."
"Want me to work?"
"No." His answer is quick and definitive, which hurts way more than I want to admit. "Nope, we're all set," he says, like he's trying to soften it.
"But I'll see you tomorrow for the leech thing."
Something tight coils in my gut. "Right. Sure." I turn and walk up the path to my casita without saying goodbye.
Trey's up to something. He doesn't want me at the club tonight. Why? Is it a woman? Or something with the vampires?
Whatever it is, I'm going to find out.
I'll be darned if he can keep me out.
Trey
OH HOLY HELL.
Was Sheridan actually inviting me into her place... for sex?
Damn, the girl never stops surprising me.
It took every grain of willpower in me not to pick her up, carry her inside and mark her as forever mine. Because that's what will happen if we ever get naked again together.
But she's weak today. She's grieving. I may not have been strong enough to resist her offer as a teenager, but I'm sure as hell not going to take advantage now.
Especially when I have no chance of keeping her as mine.
Because I'm definitely not okay with a little recreational sex. There's no such thing for my wolf. He wants me to claim Sheridan. Mark her. Make her mine forever.
Which means I need to keep a very healthy distance between us. Before I fuck everything up between us.
Again.
TWELVE YEARS AGO
Sheridan
TREY GROWLS when I pop the button of my jeans, then shimmy them down my hips. Young she-wolves are warned against fooling around with pubescent boys-they can easily lose control, but Trey's not a boy.
He's all beautiful man and other than the growl, he's showing major restraint, considering I just gave him the green light.
He kisses my pussy over my panties, gently bites my inner thigh. He rubs his thumb over the satin, finding the place that makes me squirm. It's unbelievably intense. I've never been touched there by another person and the urge to shove him away before I lose myself is almost as great as the searing pleasure his touch brings.
"Trey," I moan.
"Fuck yeah, baby. You can say my name like that any time." He slips his thumb under my panties and strokes over my slit.
My belly shudders in on a breath and I squirm. Trey wraps an arm around one of my thighs and dives between my legs. I'm totally unprepared for the shock of his tongue on my most sensitive bits.
I squeal and jerk, but he holds me still, tortures me with quick flicks to what must be my clit-I should probably know where it is, but I don't-then flattens his tongue and licks into me. He traces my inner lips, penetrates my opening.
I moan and sigh and writhe beneath him. "Trey, the condoms."
He lifts his head and chuckles. "You in a hurry to get to the finish line, baby?"
My laugh is a release of nervous tension. "Maybe. I have a lot of anticipation rolled into this."
He screws one finger into me and I jack off the table with a cry. The fit is tight and a little intense, but it also feels so right. He slides it in and out slowly, and I let my head tilt back. My eyes roll upward under my closed lids.
I knew sex would feel good. I just didn't know it would feel this good. And we haven't even gotten to the main course yet.
Trey adds a second finger and I whimper, not because it hurts, but because the intensity doubles. When he pumps now, I start to moan on each exhale.
Trey drags my backpack over with his free hand and I grab it and fish out the box of condoms, then hand him one. He's still in no hurry, though. He ducks his head and sucks one nipple while he moves his fingers in and out of me.
I snatch the condom out of his hand and rip it open. "Please, Trey," I moan.
He growls and takes the rubber, then shoves his jeans down enough to free his erection. For a lean, muscled guy, his cock seems out of proportion big. Not that I have anything to compare it to.
He rolls on the condom and climbs over me. I spread my knees wide and reach for him. He claims my mouth with passion, kissing and sucking my lip and-oh fates! He spears me with his erection, entering me with one swift stab.