Big Bad Wolfie

20) What Did They Do?

She's entrusting Wolfie with making sure I sleep?

  And leaving me?

Alone. With him.

  I mean, I know she doesn't have much of a choice.

But still.

"Make sure she sleeps?"

Really? I don't need sleep that bad, and there's no way in h3ll I'm sleeping with him in the room.

  I turn and glare at Wolfie's tall and bulky frame. I have to tilt my head up quite a bit to look him in the eye from my position sitting with my legs dangling off the bed. He simply stares back.

  Dang he's pretty.

  We stay like this for a hot minute.

  And when I say hot, I mean hot.

  There's a sort of warmth collecting in my stomach, and I almost feel a sweat brake loose. For a split second — split second — the fact that I may be going through heat flashed through my mind. It's mainly a werewolf thing, but it's very common for females mated to wolves, even if they're not one themselves, to experience it too.

Which is freaking weird if you ask me, but I don't make the rules.

I'm not naive enough to think that it won't happen indefinitely, but the idea of it being what is going on right now immediately simmered out. It's way too early for that.

  Thank the goddess.

  That would be terrible.

  But then what is this pit of warmth?

  It's not bad. It's actually. . . It's actually pretty nice.

  And I have a feeling it's because he's looking at me like that.

  And because I might as well have freaking marked him.

And his pecs are. . . Oh my goodness.

  I can already feel the repercussions of my friends' decisions coming to bite me.

This is not going to be good.

"Could you stop looking at me like that?!" I suddenly blurted.

  Jeez, my brain can't function properly under these conditions!

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, seemingly about to make a move, but his intense gaze still didn't falter.

It took me a second to realize his only motive for stirring was to inch closer to me.

And he wasn't inching because he wanted to gage how comfortable I was with his proximity.

Oh no.

Of course, not.

He was inching because he was taking his sweet old time stalking towards me.

I don't know what made the feeling arise in my stomach that the scenario was anything like a predator stalking it's prey, but that's what it felt like.

  With him slowly slithering towards me, head slightly downcast so he's looking at me through thick lashes.

I didn't feel any mal intent in his actions or expression, but I was still on edge.

Is this how it's always gonna be now?

Because I have his blood pumping through my system, every time I'm under his gaze I'll go rigid with. . . I don't even know what.