Page 14 of Ice Devil

“Not your terror on the ice.”

“I think you’re talking about my brother.”

The closeness made me off kilter, the desire creating wave after wave of white-hot fire. While the idea of touching her wasn’t forbidden, fucking a reporter who had an opportunity to help shape or taint my career was frowned upon.

Maybe so, but ultra-filthy images continued to roll through my mind.

So did the thought of possession.

“Interesting. However, that’s not why you think the name suits you. Is it?” She lifted her chin, her question more of a challenge than based on interest.

The lady was far too smart for her own good. “No, it’s not.”

“But you have no intention of telling me the real reason.”

Leaning in, I did nothing more than to take a deep whiff of her perfume, but my lips were so close to her skin I could almost taste her. The fire was suddenly burning out of control, my hands coming close to having a mind of their own. “Not now, but maybe later if you ask very nicely.”

The subtle yet pronounced innuendo was provided on a silver platter, an offer that had my balls tightening.

She didn’t back down, shifting her head just enough our lips were less than the three millimeters of the width of a blade away. Her soft whisper was sultry, inviting yet undeniably in full control whereas I was losing mine.

“Don’t bet on it.”

CHAPTER 4

Beck

The heated wisp of Sloane’s breath dancing across my face was a powerful aphrodisiac and some men, let alone beasts of the wild, could go nuts from hunger.

Not this man.

I was calm and collected while taking a step away, offering a smile that should rock her world.

She appeared bored.

Now sweat had beaded across the back of my neck.

Not a good look, Beck. Not at all.

With the drink in her hand, she lifted the glass. Not as a salute to my awesome talents, but as a sendoff.

A guy could take a hint. Or at least he should.

Without waiting to see if she’d press for more, I headed toward the guys, who were none too happy I’d enjoyed spending time with a lady.

“About damn time, dude,” Tripp huffed.

“Where are the shots?” my man Cujo pressed. When Bernie eyed Sloane as if she’d suddenly become eye candy, my wolf reminding me that he was awake again caught me by surprise.

At least I knew the beast hadn’t succumbed to boredom since I’d ignored him for so long.

“Coming. You guys are a pain in the ass. Next round is on you, Cujo boy.”

By the time I made my way to the bar once again, she’d returned to being absorbed in her work, typing faster than anyone had a right to. I had an urge to look over her shoulder, but had a feeling all I’d do was aggravate her.

Maybe Bernie was right in that annoying her wasn’t an option that should be on the table. As I slipped into the open seat, I realized something that hadn’t dawned on me before.

The lovely reporter hadn’t asked me a thing about being a shifter.