Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 42

He leans in and breathes deep.

His face in the curve of my throat, his lips just barely grazing my neck.

A shuddering breath escapes me.

I fist my hands and squeeze until my fingers hurt. Every cell in my body wants to grab hold of this man and hold him close. But I force myself to stand still.

He draws a breath, then another. Taking in my scent.

I shiver.

“Hmm.” He makes a humming sound and even that little rumble gives me a delicious little chill from head to toe.

He releases another small rumble as if he’s reading my every reaction.

He probably is.

It’s part of being a wolf.

Heightened senses mean we learn more about the world around us or people close to us.

I blush thinking all the details he’s picking up about me right now…

He draws back a bit, one hand still on my face and I gaze up at him, losing myself in his dark eyes and perfect features.

It isn’t the physical beauty of this man that draws me.

It’s what’s on the inside.

His steadfast faith in me. The way he’s defended me from the moment we met. The way he accepts me, even knowing all my broken, ugly parts and my unseemly past.

He leans forward and I hold my breath.

Is he going to kiss me?

His eyes start to shut.

I tilt my chin up. His mouth is so close. His lips look so soft.

But as I brace myself for this moment, knowing it’ll cross lines that can’t be uncrossed. I don’t care. I selfishly crave this man.

But the passionate kiss I long for never comes.

He presses his lips to my forehead.

It’s a sweet kiss.

A chaste kiss.

I sink back on my heels and bury my disappointment.

He clasps my hands, looking very pleased with himself. “Come sister, let me serve you a meal for once.”

I follow him into the kitchen and sit.

He pours me a glass of water. Serves up two bowls of the hearty stew. There’s an old fashioned bread drawer and from it he pulls out two rounds of crusty bread.

It’s all very domesticated and he moves easily around the cabin, clearly familiar with the layout and where everything is.

We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes. I feel foolish for thinking there is something more between us than there actually is.

What’s more…I should be grateful for his friendship. For finding ‘family’ when I have none.