APEX

Ch. 25: When the Fantasy Becomes Reality

Rhys

The noxious, artificial stench of my brother's cologne nearly choked out Calla's sweet scent. He'd been in her room, but from what I could deduce, no sex had taken place between them. His smell was present but was separate from hers, and there were no other tell-tale signs of two bodies colliding within the cabin—her bed was still made and Calla herself was fully dressed. I let her stew for a few seconds, thinking that I suspected she'd slept with a second Rawlings brother in less than a day. Of course, she was free to do so—I had no claim to her—but the thought of Aamon stripping off her clothes and pleasuring her, especially when I couldn't rule him out from all the shitty things Apex was accused of, was damned unsettling. And the visual was even worse.

"I'm joking with you, Calla," I said. "He was here, wasn't he? Just not to get you in bed."

"I'm sure he would have liked to, but the truth is...." She was close enough that I could see her chest rise and fall with her breath. "That's your job."

Those surprising words sent the blood flowing straight to my cock. Before reaching her cabin, and before Aamon's odor had thrown me off, I'd smelled Calla and only Calla. But more than that, I'd felt her. A sexual energy lit the night like an electric current only I could see, and it brought me from the edge of the woods to her front door. This wasn't unprecedented. Werewolves could share varying kinds of psychic bonds, including those of a sexual nature. But it was extremely unexpected coming from her. This was something I needed to unpack, but logic had been left next to a darkened trail leading to Lake Suzanne. What I carried with me instead was an urge that matched Calla's. To find her, to lay her down and explore her body, tracing a hand along her side until it cupped her breast, flicking her nipple with my fingers, licking her inner thigh. I wanted to give her what she so desperately needed. Her desire would be my undoing, but I didn't care. Let her unravel me like a ball of yarn tossed down a staircase.

Each step I took brought me closer to her. The night closed in and so did my focus. Calla. Her lips, the curve of her hip, the folds of her pussy as I separated them with my fingers to make way for my dick.

Through the lust, I had just enough wherewithal to make sure no one was tracking me. No shifters standing in the shadows, the timing of their after-dinner stroll just right to see me approach Calla's cabin.

I reached it and smelled my brother at the same time I brought my fist to the door. A moment of jealous rage shook me before I realized his scent was from the recent past and that Calla's arousal was taking place without him.

Her energy shifted, going from sexual to one of alarm.

Then, the door opened and there she was. A shift again as she realized I was there. My ego practically busted as her fear abated. She's been worried that I might be Aamon, and relieved when she realized it was me.

No...more than relieved. Turned on. Driven. It was my job to take her to bed, to make her pussy wet, to fill her with my cock. Not Aamon's. Not anyone else's.

My mind battled with every other part of me. We'd agreed to leave what we'd done in the forgotten hours. Plus, we weren't in some remote part of the wilderness, we were in a cabin thirty feet from my Aunt Loreen's.

"This isn't what we should be doing, is it?" She asked in a way that left the door open for me to convince her otherwise.

"I mean," she continued. "A woman is dead. Another victim of an Apex shifter and here we are, letting our libidos lead us to make what we know is a mistake."

A mistake? Is that what she thought? The armor went up and I crossed my arms in front of me. "You're the one that was thinking of my dick as you played with yourself."