by Paige Tyler
She tucked her hair behind her ear and took a long swallow of her beer, hoping it would cool her off. It didn’t.
Khaki cursed whatever part of her body was responsible for the visceral reaction she had whenever she was around him. She also cursed the fact that Xander was so hard to read. One second he acted like she was nothing but a pain in the ass, the next he was heaping praise on her for a job well done. Other times, like now, her werewolf intuition told her he was feeling the same things for her that she felt for him.
She licked her lips and tilted her head to look at him. “Who does interest you then?”
Xander’s gaze never wavered from hers. “That’s a good question.”
Khaki stifled a growl of frustration at the blatant nonanswer. But it was her own fault for asking such a stupid question. What the hell did she expect him to say, that hot werewolf chicks in SWAT tactical gear did it for him? While that was a nice thought, she knew it wasn’t going to happen.
She should have dropped the whole issue and changed the subject, but Xander was still gazing at her with those molten eyes of his, making her insides do slow rolls and flips.
Khaki reached for her beer again, just to have something to distract her. But the intensity of Xander’s gaze only increased as he watched her lift the bottle to her lips and take a sip. She probably should have felt self-conscious, considering his eyes were locked on her every move. But she kind of liked him looking at her so intently.
At least he was paying attention to her now.
She took a long, satisfying swallow of beer, then gently placed the bottle back on the table, locking eyes with Xander. He didn’t look away, and neither did she.
The eye contact made the quiver in her stomach move south. She was so wrapped up in his soulful, dark eyes that she almost forgot she had a keen sense of smell until a sweetly masculine scent hit her.
She didn’t know what the scent was, but it was the same one she’d smelled at his apartment the other night. Why was it so mouthwateringly delicious? And if it was coming from him—which it was—why didn’t she smell it all the time?
Khaki squirmed slightly in her chair, trying to ease the sudden ache between her thighs. If she hadn’t been sitting in a crowded bar right now, she would have slid her hand down for a caress or two.
But since she couldn’t touch herself like she wanted to, she’d have to be satisfied with a little thigh-on-thigh action and some covert wiggling. Even that slight movement caused the most blatantly sexual scent to waft up from her aroused pussy. She might have had jeans on, but her sensitive nose picked up the uniquely feminine scent with no problem at all.
Xander’s eyes momentarily flashed yellow-gold, then darkened again. That had been a partial shift. She’d seen him and the other guys do it dozens of time at the compound. Then he lifted his head a bit, mirroring something she did herself frequently when she was trying to get a better grip on a particularly interesting scent.
That was when it hit her. Xander could smell her arousal too. And it was having an effect on him.
She realized something else. The masculine scent she’d smelled before—the one that was growing stronger by the second—was coming from below Xander’s belt. He was just as turned on as she was, and it was because of her.
Before she jumped across the table at him, Khaki slowed for a second to ask herself how sure she was of that last part. What if his body was responding to the pheromones she was putting off? Mac had said the guys would pick up on it if she kept lusting.
That didn’t quite fit. Yes, she’d gotten tingly gazing into those seriously sexy eyes of his, but those scent-laced fireworks of his had started before hers, she was certain of it. Which meant he’d gotten aroused from simply gazing into her eyes. She’d smelled the same thing at his place when he’d been teaching her to see in the dark, then again this morning during the PT session. She just hadn’t realized what it was.
The lightbulb that came on was so bright it almost hurt her eyes. Xander had been telling the truth back at her apartment. He didn’t have a problem with her being on his squad. And he definitely didn’t dislike her. Maybe he’d kept his distance because he was dealing with the same level of primitive attraction she’d been fighting. Like her, he’d been trying to put a wall between them.
Her boss was hot for her, and she was hot for him. What the hell was she going to do about it?
Thoughts of professional behavior, team chemistry, and the greater long-term good all floated through her head. And every one of those perfectly reasonable thoughts disappeared just as fast.
He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. That was all that mattered. And right then, the urge to have sex with Xander Riggs was seriously overwhelming.
* * *
Xander wanted Khaki so badly it physically hurt. Whereas before he’d hoped he could come up with a way to get her to leave the club with him, right at that moment he wanted nothing more than to tangle his fingers in that long, dark hair of hers, drag her across the table, and make love to her right there in front of everyone. Judging from the pheromones coming off her, he suspected she might just let him. But considering the rest of the team was out on the dance floor and would probably notice if he and Khaki started having sex, going somewhere more private would definitely be a better idea.
He’d started the day sure he was doomed to the painful existence of watching Khaki from afar, never getting to tell her how he felt. He was her squad leader and he couldn’t see how he could ever be anything else.
But what had happened down in those tunnels had changed all that. When the booby trap had exploded—when he’d thought he was going to lose Khaki—he stopped caring about all the reasons they couldn’t, or shouldn’t, be together. He’d known deep in his soul that his life would stop having meaning if he couldn’t be with Khaki. He normally wasn’t prone to dramatics, but he was sure he’d die if they couldn’t be together.
When they’d climbed out of that tunnel into the light of day with Khaki carrying the little girl, he knew right then he couldn’t hide his feelings from her anymore. She might not feel the same way about him, but she was damn sure going to know how he felt about her.
Although the idea of telling Khaki how he felt had seemed simple and straightforward in the afterglow of their near-death experience, the reality of doing it turned out to be much more difficult than he’d anticipated.
He hadn’t been able to talk to her at all during dinner at the barbecue place, and the episode at the tattoo parlor had come closer to a brawl than a deep, meaningful conversation. It wasn’t until Khaki had sat down at the table that he’d had a chance to even say two words to her. And then he’d discovered he had no clue what to say. How did you tell a woman who worked for you, one who barely knew you and was trusting you to train her to be the best SWAT officer possible, that there was some cosmic force out there that meant you and she were destined to be together?
She’d probably call him a weirdo, slap him for getting fresh with her, then storm out of the club.
So instead, he’d gazed into her eyes. But he couldn’t stop. She was just so damn beautiful. The way her heart was beating so loud after all that dancing she’d done combined with the incredible scents rolling off her amazing body all came together to arouse him like nothing he’d ever felt with anyone else. It was tough as hell controlling the urge to take Khaki’s hand and drag her out of the club and straight back to his place.
Just thinking about it made him rock hard.
That was when a tantalizing new scent suddenly registered. It was so primal and powerful that he shifted involuntarily. It came so fast, he’d barely controlled his body’s urge to change.
It took him two seconds to figure out where the scent was coming from—Khaki. A moment later, he realized what the scent was—arousal. And now that he knew what the scent was, its effect on him was that much more devastating. His heart was racing, his body was doing everything it could to shift into its wolf form, and his cock was throbbing
so bad, he was sure it was going to start thumping against the underside of the table any second.
There was no way he could ignore his desire for Khaki any longer. And considering how turned on she obviously was, maybe it was time he stopped trying.
He was just about to suggest they leave when Cooper and Becker came back from the dance floor with the rest of the guys in tow. Shit.
“This DJ sucks,” Becker said. “Too much slow stuff. Let’s go hit some other places.”
Xander bit back a growl. The six of them had been two-stepping with half the women in the bar for the past hour and now they decided to blow the joint?
“So, how about it?” Trevor asked when he and Khaki made no move to get up.
Xander glanced at Khaki. She looked as eager to go club hopping as he did. He turned back to the four other werewolves.
“Another time, guys,” he said. “Khaki’s pretty beat. I’m going to take her back to the compound so she can grab her car and head home.”
“You sure about that, Khaki?” Cooper asked. “This has the makings of a seriously epic night of drinking. And werewolves don’t get hungover, in case you didn’t know.”
She laughed. “No, I didn’t know that. Thanks for telling me.”
Becker looked at Khaki as if she were crazy, then shook his head with a laugh. “Damn, you really are new to this werewolf thing, aren’t you? But okay, go home and get some sleep. Next time, we’re partying until we close down the bars.”
Xander waited until the guys left before turning back to Khaki. She smiled.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem.” He cleared his throat. “So, you ready to get out of here?”
She hesitated. “We could do that. But it’d be a waste of a good song.”
It took a moment to process what she meant, but he had a good excuse. He was too turned on to think straight. When he finally focused, he realized she was talking about the slow country ballad the DJ was playing. Xander had never heard it before, but then again, he didn’t listen to a lot of music, country or otherwise.
On the other side of the small table, Khaki was looking at him expectantly. She wanted to dance. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but if it meant getting to hold her in his arms, he could fake it.
“You sure you’re not too tired?” he teased.
Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment he thought she was shifting. But no, that was just Khaki’s natural sexiness shining through.
“I think I can stay awake,” she said. “Though I might have to lean on you a little—just for support.”
Xander liked the sound of that. But then Khaki’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Are you sure it’s okay? What if the guys come back and catch us?”
The thought hadn’t even entered his mind, but it was a valid concern. Then he remembered what he’d promised himself earlier today, after they had clawed their way out of those tunnels—that he was done worrying about what other people thought was right and wrong. There was something going on between him and Khaki that was bigger than the rules. That wasn’t exactly something he was going to say out loud.
“Why should we be worried?” he asked instead. “We’re just going to dance, right?”
She considered that, then smiled again. “Right.”
Xander got to his feet, praying he didn’t have any obvious bulge in the front of his jeans. Luckily, his hard-on was positioned in such a way that it didn’t look too blatant, though he was pretty sure Khaki already knew how turned on he was. And if she didn’t, she’d sure as hell figure it out when they started dancing.
He could live with that. Like he’d decided, he was done hiding how he felt about her.
As soon as they found a space on the crowded dance floor, he pulled Khaki close, holding one of her hands in his while letting his other hand slide down her back to the top of her jean-clad ass. He moved instinctively to the slow rhythm of the country song, all his attention focused on Khaki.
She felt so right in his arms. But standing this close to her, looking into her eyes and feeling her warm body pressed up against his, he found it difficult to even breathe, much less think. Fortunately, being with her didn’t require a lot of thinking.
Her scent enveloped him, making him dizzy with its intoxicating mix of her natural fragrance and the scent of her arousal. It made his cock throb even harder, but Khaki didn’t seem to mind. She pressed closer to him, resting her cheek against his chest as she swayed in time to the music. His heart beat a little faster.
“Is it bad that I’ve wanted to get close to you like this for a while?” Khaki’s words were so soft that Xander wouldn’t have heard them if he didn’t have a werewolf’s enhanced hearing. Knowing she’d been feeling this thing between them—and fighting it—as long as he had did crazy things to him.
“Probably, especially since I’m your squad leader,” he said just as softly. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been thinking about doing more than just dancing with you.”
She laughed, wiggling against the bulge in his jeans. “I can tell.”
That brought a growl to his throat and he dipped his head to bury his nose in the long hair hiding her neck from him. He inhaled deeply, letting his lips move teasingly across the warm skin there as his hand glided down a little lower on her ass. She was the one who growled then, and damn if it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.
The song ended and another began, and they didn’t even miss a step. Xander trailed his lips up and down her neck, practically getting drunk off the sublime taste of her skin. He could have stayed right there on that dance floor and done that all night, if his body hadn’t been screaming that it wanted even more of her.
He was so wrapped up in his blissful fantasy, he didn’t realize she was squeezing his shoulder until he felt her claws dig into his skin. He jerked his head up and saw that the claws on the hand cupped in his were extended as well. They might have been more feminine and graceful than any other werewolf’s he’d ever seen, but they looked exactly like what they were—claws.
Xander glanced down at Khaki. Her face was still buried against his chest, but he could still see the tip of one fang as it protruded over her lower lip. He wished he could get a better look. On her, he had no doubt that werewolf fangs looked good.
“Khaki, you’re shifting.”
He felt her stiffen, but her claws didn’t retract. He could only assume her fangs were still out as well. It was hard to tell because she pressed her face even more tightly against his chest.
“I can’t make it stop,” she said.
The panic in her voice made his gut wrench. He held her closer. “Shh.… Relax, I’m right here. I’ll take care of you. We’re going to walk off the dance floor and slip out of here without anyone noticing.”
She trembled against him. “But what if someone sees me?”
“They won’t.” He turned, keeping his arm protectively around her as he headed for the exit. “Just keep your arm around me and your head down.”
She nodded, slipping one clawed hand in the back pocket of his jeans while trying to hide the other in the material of his shirt. It would take more than a casual look to realize they were anything other than extremely long fingernails. He hoped.
They made it out the door and started down the street to where he’d parked his truck. Khaki still kept her head on his shoulder. He sure as hell didn’t mind. It felt good.
“Why is my sense of smell suddenly so much stronger?” she asked softly.
“The closer we are to our wolf form, the better our senses work. Your sexual arousal has pushed you to the edge of a full shift. What can you smell?”
She was silent except for the cutest sniffing sounds he’d ever heard. “I smell everything—people, cars, asphalt, the burgers they’re cooking back at the bar. But stronger than any of that, I smell you. Your scent is driving me insane.”
He stifled a groan. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”
They made it to
his pickup without freaking out any locals. The moment they got inside, Khaki flipped down the passenger visor and used the mirror to get a good look at her fangs. She kept turning her head, clearly mesmerized at how the city lights glimmered off her long, white teeth.
Xander couldn’t help but laugh at the stunned expression on her face. “Yeah, they look pretty frigging awesome, don’t they?”
“They’re so…sharp.” Khaki glanced at him, her brows puckering. “They don’t look…freaky, do they?”
He reached out to brush her hair back from her flushed face. “They’re beautiful, just like the rest of you.”
Unable to resist temptation any longer, he kissed her. It was a first for him, kissing a girl with fangs. But Khaki’s soft lips paired with the sharp tips of those teeth were a perfect metaphor for Khaki. She was definitely soft and feminine in some ways, but she came with her fair share of sharp edges too.
Even though it was light and tentative, it was the most amazing kiss he’d ever experienced.
Khaki apparently agreed, bringing up her hand and tangling it in his hair, pulling him close and deepening the kiss. The taste of her mouth was so sweet, it almost pushed him into shifting himself. But he couldn’t let that happen, not here in a crowded parking lot in the Entertainment District.
He reluctantly pulled back, chuckling as Khaki protested and tried to follow him into his seat. “Let’s get you home before we end up doing something compromising right here.”
She looked disappointed but didn’t argue. Pushing the center console of the bench seat up, she wiggled in close, putting on her seat belt as he did the same. He cranked the engine and put the truck into gear, then draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled out of the parking lot. She let out a sigh and snuggled close. God, he could really get used to this.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Khaki’s perfect, pink tongue slip out to trace along the points of those sexy-ass fangs of hers. That was so freaking hot!
“Am I going to have fangs and claws every time I’m aroused?” she asked.
