Sliver of Silver (Blushing Death) by Suzanne M. Sabol Page B

making it hard to breathe, hard to think. I was uncomfortable under the weight of his eyes.
    “You wouldn’t know by my actions tonight.” Shaking his head, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
    The voice inside my head pressed me to reassure him. I wanted to wipe the disapproval from his furrowed brow no matter what she wanted.
    “Jackson tries your patience. He tries everyone’s patience,” I said with a smile, teasing, and trying desperately to lighten the mood. His eyes followed me with a singularity that made things low in my body tighten in response to that hungry look.
    “You could’ve killed him tonight,” he said.
    Jackson was stronger, faster, and deadlier than me in every way. But if I could, I would kill him.
    “He would’ve gotten to me long before I could’ve pulled the trigger.”
    “You were ready.” The corner of his mouth twitched up in a coy little smile that lit his eyes, making them almost sparkle in the moonlight. “At any rate, I wouldn’t’ve let him get to you.” His eyes focused on me in a way that made my heart race and my breath sink heavy in my chest.
    “I, uh, I should go,” I stammered.
    Dean tugged his shirt over his head, laying it neatly beside him in the grass, followed by his boots and jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear. No boxers. No briefs. Not even a thong. If I’d been uncomfortable before, it barely registered as I watched him strip down to nothing.
    Naked as the day he was born, Dean stood tall beside me without a twinge of embarrassment. I couldn’t help but look, stare really. He was built like a college football running back. His shoulders were broad, his chest was solid and defined like he lifted weights daily. His torso narrowed to a perfectly sculpted six pack and at a height of over six feet four inches, he was more than adequate as my eyes moved down his body.
    My eyes shot back up to meet his satisfied expression and my face flushed with the heat of embarrassment. The edges of his mouth turned up in a wicked little grin, making my toes curl.
    Dean shifted to his wolf still grinning at me. His change was quicker than Danny’s and smooth. He seemed to merge into his other form like water falling from a waterfall. It was an easy, liquid transition that took less time than I took to tie a shoe. Skin melted into fur as bones shifted with little more effort than lifting an arm. He stood proud before me on all fours, a beautiful, large wolf, breast high. He weighed at least 200 pounds in the wolf form, probably more. His silvery gray coat sparkled in the moonlight as the warm breeze blew gently through his fur, making the hair along his long body shift and shimmer.
    I wanted to run my hands through the thick fur on his back and ears but kept my hands in my pockets where they belonged. Unless you were a mated pair, petting was an unforgivable sin. Danny had said it made them feel too much like pets. I didn’t dare even touch Danny that way. Hadn’t. Hadn’t touched Danny that way. Damn it!
    I jerked my keys from my pocket and clutched them in my hand to keep from touching him. The urge to touch him was incredibly strong. My fingers actually trembled with want to feel the soft fur in my hands. He took a step toward me, rubbing his muzzle against my hip. He rubbed his whole body against me, caressing me with his warm fur, circling me as he coated me in his power and scent. His actions reminded me of a cat marking its territory, and I almost giggled but for the strange sensuality that percolated through my body. My skin tingled and a white-hot heat seared between my thighs. He circled me, running his body slowly and languorously along mine until he’d made a complete circle. He stood prone, his ears and tail up and his eyes peering somewhere off into the distance where his Pack hunted and played. 
    He swung his head back toward me, then strode away from the primal pull of his Pack, leading me back to my car. It was nice to have an escort, considering