Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5)

“Now,” I said, my voice firm before it fell to a soft breath. “Come inside me.”

 

 

His body quaked and he yelled out. Wheeler fell over me, out of breath. My senses were overwhelmed with his heat, his smell, the weight of his body, and the feel of his strong heart pounding against my chest.

 

Wheeler lifted his head and looked at me with concern. “You okay?”

 

“My heart is coming out of my chest,” I said between ragged breaths.

 

He lowered his head and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

 

I brushed a tangle of curls away from my face and looked vacantly off to the side.

 

Wheeler didn’t like that and pinched my chin, turning my head to face him. “Something wrong?”

 

“Do you want the truth? This is the part where you tell me I’m a swell fuck and put on your pants.”

 

His brows slanted in an angry line. “What?”

 

“Men have sex with me; they don’t sleep with me. There’s always a meeting, trip, or somewhere else they need to be. So they go. I don’t have any high expectations, and I don’t want you to feel guilty about putting on your pants and heading out. You don’t look like the cuddling type, and what would your family think? There’s no reason to give me that look.” I stroked the soft bristles on his chin. “I hope someday you can open up to Austin—or with your mate.”

 

“What mate?”

 

When I wriggled free, he gasped and sat up. I casually sauntered toward the short fridge. “The wolf you’ll find someday who makes your little tail wag,” I said with a grin.

 

Wheeler sat on the edge of the bed, wiping back his damp hair. “Maybe I’m not the mating kind.”

 

“Beer or water?”

 

“Beer.”

 

I pulled a longneck from the shelf and strolled back to the bed, standing in front of him and letting the chilly bottle touch his neck. “Can you open it?”

 

With a swift motion, he used his molars to bite on the cap, and it rolled to the floor.

 

“My big strong man,” I purred, playfully gripping the tangle of hair on top of his head.

 

He sucked down two long gulps and released an audible breath. “That hit the spot.”

 

I bent down and kissed the tip of his nose. “You can say that again.”

 

His cold tongue licked my nipple and I squealed.

 

“Come here.” He handed me the beer bottle and turned me around to sit on his lap.

 

“Hmm, I didn’t think Mr. Grumpy was the cuddling kind.” I took a baby sip and shivered when the bubbles slid down my throat. “Delish.”

 

Wheeler chuckled and squinted at me. “I like the way you talk.”

 

“I seem to recall our conversations going a completely different way.”

 

“That’s what I’m talking about. Right there. You breathe fire like a dragon, but you’re a classy lady.”

 

Was he baiting me? That negative Nelly in my head began to doubt his words rang true. Classy? I rested my head on his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his arms around me.

 

“What’s on your mind?” He yawned as he set the bottle down.

 

“Misha.”

 

“She wasn’t in that house. My wolf can smell a cat within a five-mile radius.”

 

I laughed softly. “Well he must have loved our close encounter. Here, let me get up. I must be crushing your legs.” I bent forward and Wheeler pulled me back down.

 

“Stay right where you are.”

 

“You’ll lose circulation.”

 

He gave a closed-lip smile, playing with a curl of my hair. “That’d be a shame. Trapped in bed with a beautiful woman.”

 

I stroked his jaw. “You should trim off this stubble. I liked it better when you just had the beard around your mouth.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“What?”

 

“Jericho used to give me shit for that. Said women don’t like it.”

 

“Well,” I said, nipping on his earlobe, “this woman adores it.”

 

He leaned back onto the bed and pulled me on top of him. “Remind me to buy a razor.”

 

We fell into a deep kiss and then he shifted me to his right side. This was nice. I’d never been able to enjoy the feel of a man lying naked beside me without foreplay or sex. I liked his natural, musky smell. And my fingers couldn’t stop brushing over his soft chest hair—short, sparse, and pale brown. He bent his left knee and casually moved it back and forth, tucking his right arm behind his head.

 

“Do you smoke?” I asked.

 

“Nope. But after what we just did, I’d say that justifies a cigarette. You?”

 

“Does my kiss taste like smoke?”

 

“You taste like dark cherries.”

 

Well, that was one I hadn’t heard before. “Did you really like my chicken spaghetti?”

 

Wheeler chuckled. “Your mind is all over the place. If that’s just a sample of what you can do in the kitchen, then I might lock you in here for good. I love a woman who knows how to cook.”

 

“Mmmm, and I love a man with an appetite.”

 

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