Page 4 of Reject Him

CHAPTER TWO

With Logan following close behind, Eme opens the door to her bedroom. She’s aware of his closeness. His scent surrounds her, and though he smells pleasant, more than pleasant, she’s not looking forward to the sex part of this arrangement. He smells like the wind, like the rain in a pinewood forest. He smells like all things wild. She works hard to ignore it, that scent that calls to her - to her wolf - on a primal level.

She heads toward the bed while Logan lingers behind. “Welcome to my room. Make yourself comfortable,” she mumbles.

She kicks off her heels, shoves them aside with a foot, and turns around. Logan is standing before one of her paintings, studying one that’s a perfect depiction of the snow-capped and pine-tree-ladened mountains in the distance; the Brook Mountain Pack’s mountain is glorious during the day. Perhaps that is where his scent originates.

He points with a thumb. “You did this?”

“I don’t really allow anyone else in my bedroom, so yes. I painted that.”

He smirks, and she wonders if he finds her sass adorable or childish. She honestly doesn’t care.

“You have a true gift.”

“Not everyone thinks so.”

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, and she crosses her arms across her chest, uncomfortable with the attention. She’s never been one who likes attention. In fact, she shies away from it, much to her sociable father’s displeasure.

She shakes her head. “My father wanted me to be a veterinarian so that I could tend to our wolves when they were hurt. I never had the stomach for sewing skin, so I refused.”

“Understandable,” Logan murmurs.

A taut silence stretches across the room. Eme turns around and points to the zipper on her dress. “Can - um - can you undo my dress?”

She hears his soft footsteps across the wood floor, and when he reaches for the zipper and pinches it, her body tingles. She may not want this, but her body, her wolf side, betrays her interest in the man. At least, sex with the man. Wolf shifters have a thing for coupling. It’s not unheard of for unmated pairs to hook up.

The zipper is tugged down gently, and her back is exposed to the open air. She hadn’t worn a bra, and on his way back up, his fingers trail along her spine.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “You can back out.”

Goosebumps rise over her skin and crawl up her neck. My god, the man knows exactly where to kiss. It pisses her off that her body is responding in such a way while her heart is tugging her somewhere else.

“I never back out of anything,” she eventually whispers because what he’s doing feels good. She has mixed feelings about that.

He kisses again, this time to the slope of her neck. His breath fans over her skin, and a tingle stirs her clit. She squeezes her legs together and moans softly.

He chuckles against her skin. “I’ll give you one last chance, Emeline.”

Snapping her jaw, Eme growls because she’s starting to get impatient. She gets the feeling that he’s always like this - the kind who likes slow but pleasurable torture. She’s never been that kind of girl, but then again, she’s never been in a relationship where the sex isn’t quick and dirty. And the talking thing? She’s not interested.

He turns her around and rubs his nose against hers. His scent swarms her once more. He gently pulls the dress from her shoulders, and it pools around her ankles. As soon as she steps out of the dress, more goosebumps rise across her skin. She stretches up and brushes her lips against his. It’s a tentative and unsure kiss, but he responds immediately.

She slides her hands up his chest while he unbuttons his pants, feeling every muscle ripple under his skin. He breaks the kiss only to gracefully pull his legs out of his pants, letting his erection spring free. She steels herself and looks. His cock bobs at the attention while he rids himself of his jacket and unbuttons his shirt. Both slip off his arms and join his pants on the floor.

Wrapping her hand around his warm cock, she looks him in the eye. He sucks in a deep breath, and she allows a small smirk, hoping like hell this torments him as much as his sensual kisses had tormented her.

“Now’s your chance to back out,” she mocks, giving his cock a stroke. He groans as she does it again and again.

His lips find hers again, a carnal kiss that makes her clit tingle once more. His hands roam her stomach, work their way up her abdomen, and then they finally find her breasts.

A sigh escapes her as she mumbles, “Pinch,” into his mouth. He growls against the order but does as she wishes anyway.

She groans and presses her breasts more firmly into his hands. He tweaks the nipples, again and again, leading her backward until her rump hits the bed.

“Lie down,” he orders.

Jutting her chin, she defies him by saying, “You lie down.” If she has to do this, she wants it on her terms.