Impulse

Chapter Six

Julio had borrowed a convertible from someone.

Sera tossed her duffel bag into the back seat before sliding on her brand-new seven-dollar sunglasses. She was an absolute vision of gas-station fashion, with her braided pigtails covered by a black bandanna and her denim shorts barely visible beneath the hem of her too-long Saints jersey.

Not exactly the low-cut tops and too-short skirts she’d briefly considered, but it felt wrong to approach Julio in the seductive clothing she used to pick up men she only wanted to fuck.

Whatever she wanted from him was a damn sight more complicated than sex.

Too bad sex had become a driving urge in the days it had taken to organize the road trip.

Sera circled the car as Julio rearranged things in the trunk and muttered under his breath. “I need a gas can.”

“A gas can?” She leaned against the side of the car.

“Mmm, just in case.”

“Sounds fair.” She grinned at him. “Always good to have a spare gas can, a shotgun and a roll of duct tape, right?”

He affected a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t forget the road flares and chainsaw. Who taught you to road trip, anyway?”

“Obviously a novice.” Pushing up her sunglasses, she glanced in the trunk. “Anything else we need? I packed up some food for the road.”

He slammed the trunk. “What kind of stuff?”

“I made brownies and cookies yesterday, and some empanadas at work last night.” She might not have gone for the sexy clothing, but digging up the family recipe Julio’s sister had given her the previous fall might have been equally shameless. “John lets me play in the kitchen when it’s slow.”

“Empanadas, huh?” Julio flashed her a knowing look as he climbed behind the wheel. “I can’t drive if I’m in a food coma. You’re angling to get your feet on these hot little pedals, aren’t you?”

Sera settled into the passenger seat. “Maybe. I’d look good driving a convertible.” But not as good as him. His plain white T-shirt hugged his body, flexing with the muscles of his arms and shoulders until she wondered if he was trying to show off.

“Jackson, unfortunately, would murder me if I let you drive it.”

That stung. “Hey, I’m a good driver. And he’s married to the New Orleans record holder for most speeding tickets in a year.”

“Yeah, and he won’t let Mackenzie drive it, either.” Julio patted the dash. “I had to find a suitable replacement and promise I’d buy it if anything happened to his baby.”

“Fine, fine.” Sera angled her body so she could admire him—subtly. Maybe. “So where are we going?”

“Don’t know. Do you want to head east or west?”

She might as well flip a coin. Either sounded perfect, as long as it got her away. “Whichever, so long as we can get lost on tiny back roads. I want the real road-trip experience here.”

“Stay clear of I-10. Got it.” He turned the key and revved the engine with a grin. “East, I think. We can drive all the way around Florida if you want.”

“Sounds perfect.” It would take a week or two, if they went slow. A week away from work, from overprotective alpha shifters and well-meaning friends, few of whom had taken this trip in stride.

Lily she might forgive. Lily’s tense sigh had undoubtedly been at the idea of trying to break the news to Sera’s father. Her boss, on the other hand, had granted her request for time off with a shake of his head and a muttered, Lord help you, girl.

That had pricked her pride. It would be nice if someone thought Julio was the one in need of help. Someone other than Kat, anyway, who had replied to Sera’s voicemail with a texted apology for being out of cellular contact and a stern command to be gentle with Julio.

Anna’s advice had been more direct. Fuckin’ A. Ride it like you stole it.

Everyone in New Orleans seemed convinced she was embarking on the world’s most epic booty-call road trip with a man she hadn’t even managed to kiss yet, and Sera couldn’t tell if it was a reflection of their respective reputations, or if her frustrated tension was just that damn obvious.

Julio seemed oblivious to it. “Want to pick the music?”

“Sure.” Leaning forward, she switched on the radio and twisted the old-fashioned FM dial, skimming past static on her way to 95.7. It took a little fiddling before Eric Clapton spilled out of the speakers, long enough for her to come to a decision.

Sitting back, she glanced at Julio. “You know everyone thinks we’re headed to the nearest motel to fuck ourselves stupid for the next week, right?”

He threw back his head with a laugh. “My fault, sweetheart. People think I can’t keep my pants on.”

“Who says I can?” Sera twisted on the seat and grinned at him. “That’s the awesome part about the twenty-first century. Girls get to love sex too.”

“I’m pretty sure they always have.”

“Well, obviously. When they got to have said sex, which wasn’t exactly freely, historically speaking.”

“A damn crying shame, if you ask me.”

She studied him for a moment, indulging herself for all the time she’d spent fighting not to look at him. The white shirt set off his coloring, all beautiful shades of bronze with chocolate eyes and jet-black hair.

It made her self-conscious, imagining her too-pale freckled body pressed against him. She had curvy hips and breasts big enough to turn any jackass wearing beer goggles into a drooling moron, but Julio was out of her league. Julio had his own league, one where rich shapeshifters who were damn near royalty married the barely legal daughters of important wolves. Pretty virgins with perfect manners and medieval dowries and closets full of fashionable clothing for hosting important dinner parties.

Julio Mendoza’s league wasn’t a fan of the twenty-first century, which made her want to shrink back into her seat and bite her tongue.

He made it to the interstate on-ramp before casting another glance her way. “Want to make any stops or head straight for Florida?”

“Can we hit a Walmart or something? I need a bathing suit before we get to the beach.”

“Plenty of time for that.”

The wind roared around them as the car picked up speed, drowning out the music. It tugged at her braids and the sleeves of her jersey, set her bandanna fluttering against her neck as she tilted her head back. “So now we just…be free?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Do you remember how?”

“I never knew how,” she admitted, mostly because the wind stole the words and she could pretend he wouldn’t hear them, even if she knew better. “But I’ll learn.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Do you remember how?”

“To be free?” Julio signaled and changed lanes. “Who says I ever knew, either?”

They were quite a pair. A rich wolf born of legacy and a poor coyote born of tragedy. She’d grown up without a mother, and the whole supernatural world knew he’d grown up without a father. At least her mother had been driven mad. Diego Mendoza had walked away from his psychic lover in a cloud of scandal, too cowardly to stay by the woman he supposedly loved and the children she’d given him.

Maybe Julio hadn’t had any more freedom than Sera had, for all his wealth and status. It made it easier, somehow. More like an adventure.

She and Julio could learn to be free together.

Julio opened a refrigerated case and relished the cloud of cold air that rushed out. Late afternoon, and it was still hot as hell outside.

He grabbed two drinks and walked up the aisle toward the register, pausing to add a few bags of snacks to the pile in his arms. When he reached the sleepy-looking clerk, he dropped everything on the counter and studied a carousel of cheap sunglasses. “Where’s the nearest town? Far?”

“Not too far. Go down Highway 4 a few more miles and you’ll hit Baker.”

Julio tossed a couple pairs of the sunglasses on the counter too. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” The clerk lifted a map off the counter. “Need one?”

“It’d probably be smarter than relying on my cell phone, huh?”

The girl stirred enough to smile. “Hey, phones do everything. My dad says maps don’t run out of batteries, though.”

“Your dad’s right.” He finished paying, took the bag and pushed out into the afternoon sunlight.

Sera had her head back against the seat, eyes closed and a small smile playing around her lips. She looked peaceful, at ease, as if everything was right with the world.

Julio slid behind the wheel. “I got you a Coke.”

“Thanks.” She twisted her head and cracked her eyes open, and that sweet little smile turned warm, like it was all for him. “Not for the Coke. Thanks for this. Even just getting out of New Orleans…I feel like I can breathe again.”

If he didn’t do anything else right, at least he could do this. “We’re going to keep you safe.

Whatever it takes.”

“Any of them would have kept me safe.” She unbuckled her seatbelt with a soft click and slid across the bench seat until she was tucked against his side with one arm wrapped around him in a half-hug. “You’re keeping me sane.”

Sane. Exactly what he wasn’t as he cupped the back of her head and tilted her face to his.

Insane, that was more like it—for a thousand different reasons.

He kissed her anyway.

She had soft lips. Soft and warm, and they tasted like the cherry ChapStick she’d tossed into her bag a few miles back. Her hand slapped against his chest, fingers splayed wide, then fisted around his shirt as she moaned, low and hungry.

He wanted to delve deeper, bite her lip and slide his tongue into her mouth. Instead, he lifted his head and fought to slow his breathing. Sera’s fingernails dug into his chest as she voiced her protest in a snarl of loss and caught his lips again.

He reacted without thought, tightened his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back. “Sera.”

She went still. Not just quiet, but utterly still. Even her breathing stopped for one tense moment, and in that moment her power washed over him in a shuddering wave. An alpha’s magic challenged. Hers was sweet and accepting, clinging to him even as her breath escaped on her rushed apology. “I’m sorry—”

“No, I am.” He stroked his thumb over the shell of her ear. “Not about kissing you. I’m not going to apologize for that. But I shouldn’t have done it here. Now.”

“I don’t have very good control.” A confession. A tortured whisper. “I’m so freaking tired of fucking humans. I eat them alive.”

He knew there were human men who could handle fucking shifters—people did it all the time, Mackenzie for one—but Sera seemed caught up on what she wanted versus what she thought she should want. “What you want isn’t so complicated, sweetheart. You’ve just got to let go.”

She shivered. “Letting go is how you drown.”

He still had the taste of her on his tongue. “Not letting go isn’t worth it.”

“No one’s ever caught me.” Her whole damn body trembled with nervous energy. “Last time I let go, I fell forever.”

Her eyes were deep and still despite all that energy. “Does that mean you’re going to hold back now?” he asked.

She fought the grip on her hair, tugged against it until she could nuzzle his chin. Not a very human gesture, and he could feel the feral edge of her coyote beneath the surface. “I don’t know how to let go a little. Don’t ask for it if you don’t really want it. It’ll change this trip. It’ll change everything.”

It sounded like an ultimatum and a promise. It sounded like a warning. “We’ll find out,” he whispered. “Tonight.”

Warm breath feathered across his ear. She licked the lobe, then closed her teeth on it with a quiet growl. “The clerk inside is staring at us.”

“Do you blame her?” After another heartbeat, Julio released Sera and started the car.

“Probably wondering whether she needs to call the cops on us.”

After retreating to her side of the car, Sera gave the attendant a cheerful wave. “Maybe she was enjoying the show. You’re hotter than any of the softcore stuff on cable.”

“If you say so.”

“You don’t fool me, mister. You look like a man with a healthy stash of porn.” Her seatbelt clicked into place before she turned to eye him. “I’m thinking…busty cheerleaders in short skirts? Or is that too vanilla?”

“I’m all about variety,” he told her solemnly. “Busty cheerleaders are well-represented in my collection, but I would never limit myself so severely.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her grin. “I stick to the Playgirl stuff. Oiled-up men aren’t really my thing, but at least they go for the hunky ones.”

He flashed her a knowing grin of his own. “And you like the men in uniform, right? All the ladies do.”

“You mean like McNeely?” She whistled as he steered the car out of the parking lot. “That is one fine hunk of wolf. Too bad he’s got a big dumb crush on Giselle.”

After Wesley Dade’s conveniently telling remark, they’d probably spent the weekend in bed together. “That’s your type, huh? Tall, dark and handsome?”

“You have to ask, when I just tried to climb into your lap in a parking lot?”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

She laughed. “You’re tall, dark and handsome, Mendoza.”

“You’re mostly right, Sinclaire.” He adjusted the rearview mirror so the slanting sunlight wouldn’t blind him and pressed his foot harder on the accelerator. “I’m not particularly tall.”

“You’re taller than me.” She reached across the seat, and her fingers brushed the back of his neck in a caress almost as teasing as her words. “But not too much taller. Which would come in handy, if you’d ever considered bending me over furniture for dirty sex.”

The car swerved as his grip tightened on the wheel. It wasn’t hard to call forth images to match her words—her naked, rounded hips, pale skin under his hands, and the smooth, endless expanse of her back stretched out before him.

Her fingertip snuck under the collar of his shirt. “If you were taller, I’d have to stand on phone books or something.”

That bare touch on the back of his neck hardened his cock. “Arrive alive, honey. Hands to yourself.”

Another laugh, but she eased away. “And this is why everyone in New Orleans thinks we’re going to spend the next week having sex. They all know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

A horrible, truly inspired idea hit him. “What if you have to?”

“Keep my hands off you?” He could almost feel the weight of her gaze on him. “Maybe if you handcuff me to something.”

Yes. “Or if I told you not to touch me until I said you could.”

Her breath hissed out. She squirmed in the seat, her cheeks flushing with arousal. “Who says I’d obey?”

Instinct. “I say.”

“So tell me.”

He laid his hand on her leg. “Don’t touch me, Sera, not once. Not until I say you can.”

Her power licked over him in a gentle wave of prickling warmth. A quiet test, a challenge he answered with his own rush of magic. Sera arched her head back, her mouth falling open on a moan of pure, throaty pleasure.

It did nothing to alleviate his arousal, and Julio stifled a groan. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” A whisper. A promise. “I won’t touch you. Not until you say I can.”

His hunch had been right—it turned her on even more. Good. Maybe it would also afford him the opportunity to regain some self-control. “All right, then.”

Her leg tensed under his hand. “So not fair that you get to touch me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m the only one getting hot and bothered over here?”

He chanced a glance her way and slid his hand from her knee. “Oh really?”

She laughed, a sound full of lazy pleasure in spite of her impatient words. “If I look, I’ll be too tempted to touch.”

“Then stop fishing around for me to tell you you’re gorgeous. You know you are.”

“That’s not—” He almost heard the click of her teeth snapping together. She shifted positions again, crossing her legs. “Thank you.”

It sounded sincere, though edged with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He let it go. “We can stop in Pensacola or keep on until we hit Panama City Beach. It’s not far to either, so I’ll leave it up to you.”

She only hesitated for a moment. “Panama City Beach, maybe? Do we know where we’re staying?”

He spent all day, every day, making plans. Preparations, asking and answering questions.

Considering the future. “I didn’t do a damn thing before we left, sweetheart. We’re winging it.”

It made her smile. “I think this phone Kat and Anna shoved on me has internet. Should I try to find a place?”

“You can try. Most of the cell carriers around here stick to cities and interstate corridors, though.”

Sera glanced out the window at the trees rolling by, then relaxed back against the seat.

“Worth it. Let’s wing it.”

No plans. No rules. “Right on.”

Julio had money. Not Anna’s I’m a badass bounty hunter who could pick up two grand on a quick job money or Kat’s I have a trust fund and a PhD in computer science money, either.

Julio had five-star beachfront bungalow with a private pool and hot tub money, and probably enough left over to convince the property’s perfectly coiffed owner to ignore Sera’s five-dollar flip-flops and secondhand sports jersey.

It almost made her wish she’d taken some of the money her father had constantly tried to shove at her, if only to buy herself a nicer wardrobe. Stubborn independence, it seemed, had some serious drawbacks.

Not that Julio seemed to mind. Sera headed to the kitchen to unpack their groceries, and Julio thrust open the drapes and stared out the French doors at the churning surf. “It’s a fucking beautiful night.”

The beach was as close to private as possible in the area, though some of that illusion of privacy no doubt came from the empty properties on either side of them. The rest came with the price tag. “It’s gorgeous. I’m glad we’re staying for a couple days.”

“Or a week, or whatever.” He dropped to the plush sofa. “No plans, remember?”

“No plans. Except all the incredible food I’m going to cook.” And staying in the kitchen with the groceries seemed safer than joining him on the couch. That wild moment in the car might as well have not happened. Julio had been careful not to touch her in the hours since, and she was wound too tight, her skin itching and her body aching.

Julio turned to grin at her. “We should probably go outside and do stuff sometimes, even if all we do is lie on the beach like broiling vegetables.”

Sera dug through the bag and surfaced with the sunblock. “SPF eight million. I might need an umbrella and a floppy hat too, though.”

He stretched out one bronzed arm. “Not much of an exaggeration for you, huh? The broiling part.”

“I don’t tan gracefully.” Lord knew she’d tried, but freckles that could look cute on pale skin weren’t quite as charming once she turned red as a lobster. “But if I dye my hair black, I’m a badass goth.”

Julio laughed. “Too bad we’re not in New Orleans anymore. You could tell all the tourists you’re a fearsome vampire named Lady Nocturne.”

She tucked the last of the fresh fruit into the fridge. “Maybe Henry would feature me on one of his fake ghost tours. Vampires are a lot more exciting than coyotes.”

When he spoke, it was from right behind her. “Depends on who you ask.”

Sera froze, all of her except for her fingers, which clenched around the counter until the edge bit into her palm. She hadn’t heard him moving, which was scary all on its own when she could hear the quiet buzz of the streetlight out on the road.

She could feel him, though, a wall of unrelenting heat at her back, and she braced herself on the counter mostly to keep from slumping back against him. “You are scary stealthy when you want to be.”

He touched her shoulder. “For such a lumbering hulk, you mean?”

“For anyone.” The slippery fabric of her top wasn’t skimpy, but she could feel the shape of his fingers—Jesus, the shape of his fingerprints. The urge to reach for him swallowed her whole, but there was a giddy thrill in self-denial, in keeping her hands in place on the counter.

A sick thrill. An oh-so-wrong thrill. How many pained looks had she endured from the submissive wolves? How many gentle lectures had she sat through, condescending words urging her not to buy into stereotypes, not to undermine the rest of them? Submission was about pack and safety, not life and sex.

She’d always been a little bent.

“Sera?”

“I’m not touching you.” It came out husky. Desperate. “I don’t know if you were seducing me with that or trying to keep me out of your pants.”

“Who says it couldn’t have been both?” His fingers brushed the back of her neck. “When’s the last time someone took it slow for you?”

Pleasure zipped down her spine, tightening her nipples and melting everything below her waist. “Define slow. A couple hours?”

“Not the sex,” he whispered. “Getting there.”

Before Josh, she’d never made the boys go slow. After Josh, she hadn’t let the men go slow.

Her independence had been too hard-won to let any guy have more than a few hours.

Until now. Until him. “I don’t know. Slow isn’t really my thing.”

He leaned closer. “It’s mine.”

All she had to do was lean back an inch, and his body would be stretched out along hers, warm and hot and perfect. His command held her rooted in place. Not fear or obedience, just pleasure at the freedom of knowing she didn’t have to do anything. “All right.”

Julio hummed, as if her answer really had been one. “You want dinner or a swim?”

Cold water. Lots and lots of cold water. “We had a late lunch. I could swim.”

“Got your suit handy, or are you feeling adventurous?”

It sounded like a dare, so she pulled away from the counter and tugged the sports jersey over her head.

He guided her hip, applying enough pressure to turn her to face him, and let his gaze rove over her. “You like this,” he murmured, running a finger over the lacy edge of one bra cup. “The girly ribbons and shit.”

“Sometimes.” She needed something to do with her hands, something that didn’t involve ripping his shirt in half. So she caught the end of one of her braids and set about freeing her hair. “Have you been studying my underwear?”

He smiled, slow and easy. “Only when you take off your clothes.”

“I’m a shapeshifter. I take my clothes off a lot.” A day spent tightly plaited left her hair tumbling around her shoulders in gentle waves, which had been the entire point. “Are we going to find someplace to run this week? I get antsy if I don’t get to every few days.”

“Tomorrow.” He slipped one finger under her bra strap. “There’s an unofficial alpha in town.

Carmen and Alec met him when they passed through last summer. We’re going to go introduce ourselves.”

The world narrowed to his skin touching hers. One square inch at most, and she was already hot enough to hump his leg. Her gaze dropped without her permission, sliding past his belt and its shiny silver buckle to where his jeans stretched over the early stages of what would almost certainly be an impressive erection.

Totally unfair, that he wasn’t raging hard and five seconds from fucking her over the counter, and she opened her mouth to tell him so before his words fully registered.

Unofficial alpha. Other wolves.

Shit. “Are you sure you want me to come with you when you meet them?”

He didn’t pretend not to understand. “You think they’ll give you a hard time?”

Most unfamiliar wolves did. Those who had been born shapeshifters looked down on the other breeds, and the turned ones had to fight harder against animal instinct and the certainty that she was an interloper in their territory.

Even the ones who didn’t loathe her rarely respected her, and that might be worse. Julio could probably handle repressed hostility, but she doubted he’d react well if any of them sized her up as an exotic sexual thrill, the kind they’d brag about to their friends later.

The last thing the Southeast council needed was Julio getting into fights over a coyote. “I can handle it if they do. I’m used to it. I don’t want to go and leave you stuck thinking you have to defend my honor, though.”

Julio cupped her jaw, his fingers tickling the delicate skin behind her ear. “Let me worry about that, okay?”

His touch stole her breath, turned her reply into a whisper. “I have to worry. I know you’ll protect me from anything, but I don’t want to make your life harder.”

“Nothing about this is hard, sweetheart. It’s a vacation. Easiest thing in the world.”

He pulsed with confidence, with dominance. Sera let it go as she gave him her best big-eyed look of mischief. “Nothing’s hard? I’m hurt.”

Julio growled, picked her up in a surge of flexing muscle and dropped her on the counter.

“Remember what you agreed to? No touching me until I say? Now tell me if you’re ready to take it further.”

She bit back the instinctive yes that tried to tumble free. Her coyote was on her back already, throat and belly bared in eager submission. The terrifying part was knowing that it was sheer dominance alone. With Josh there’d been instinct, the heady recognition of being with her own kind, a seductive sort of belonging that hid his weaknesses, his flaws.

Julio was beautiful, wild power, mysterious and unfamiliar. Dangerous. The coyote’s submission had nothing to do with mating, but it was still trust. Need. Twisted with her human desire, it was strong enough to intoxicate her.

She should be smart, ease back. Ask what he wanted to do. This was why the damn wolves in New Orleans had turned her away from their fucking BDSM club to begin with. She trusted or she didn’t, no in-betweens, no negotiations, no safewords.

But that was a human game, and this was something else. A game humans would never understand, never should, and she needed it. “Yes,” she said, giving him permission for anything. Everything.

He held her gaze for several heartbeats, intensity burning in his dark eyes. Then he began to undress her.

It was slow. Deliberate. Practiced, but she’d expected that. Julio Mendoza of the many legendary conquests wouldn’t fumble with the clasp on a woman’s bra. Sera’s breath caught as he slipped the fabric from her body, but it was the hungry look in his eyes more than anything else that did it.

His fingers fell to her shorts, and she almost moaned her relief. “No more going slow?”

He unfastened her shorts and pulled them lower on her hips. “Slower than ever, honey. Up, so I can get these off.”

The words didn’t make sense, but she cared more about bracing one hand against the fridge and the other on the counter. So easy to lift her hips, and he stripped away her shorts.

His lips touched her skin, some indefinable place just under her rib cage, but not quite on her stomach or her hip or her waist. Then he traced his tongue up, between her breasts, all the way to the hollow of her throat.

“Julio…” When she dropped her head back, it thudded hollowly against the nearly empty cupboards. “Can I touch you yet?”

“No.” He skated his thumb over one hard nipple, and this time her moan was frustration and pleasure.

He was going to tease her. Torture her. She was going to love it. “Kiss me? Please?”

He smiled, slow and hot. “Yeah.” His open mouth covered hers, hotter than the kiss in the car. Deeper too, once he’d licked her lips until she opened for him willingly. Julio kissed like he loved how she tasted, like he could spend all night making her squirm on the counter with the suggestive play of his tongue against hers.

He was breathing heavily when he lifted his head and slipped his fingers beneath the lace of her panties.

Oh God, he was going to break her brain. Right here on the counter, while he was still clothed. As turned on as she was, she’d come in under a minute.

Maybe she should warn him. First she had to breathe, which was harder with him staring at her like that, dark eyes as glazed as her own must be. Her words came out as more of a whisper. “I’m not going to last very long at this rate.”

He leaned closer and laughed against her lips. “Sweetheart, that sounds like a promise to me.” His free hand wrapped around the back of her neck and dragged her mouth back to his.

She was so busy moaning that she almost forgot to feel guilty at the thrill she got from the possessive bite of his fingers on her neck.

Julio growled as he slicked one finger over her clit. “Pull my hair, Sera. Let me know you feel it too.”

Her fingers were already clutching the back of his head, and she didn’t remember moving them. But she didn’t care because he’d given her permission. She needed something to cling to as her body pulsed with his next slippery touch, and she was almost embarrassed to be so wet when he’d barely touched her.

Then he eased inside. Deeper, his tongue in her mouth and two fingers working into her like he had a fucking roadmap with a giant X over her G-spot, and now she really was going to follow him around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of her life, because men didn’t-Her eyes shot open and she cried out, the sound lost to his mouth. She twisted her head just enough to draw in a breath. “Right there, right there—oh my God, Julio, please—” He groaned and bit her earlobe, then leaned his head against hers. “Fuck, yes. You’re gorgeous when you come.”

“I haven’t—” His fingers twisted just right, and pleasure fractured so fast she cried out. Not a pretty noise, and she didn’t give a damn. Her whole body throbbed with this orgasm, the release of days of slow-burning tension, and she didn’t realize she was smacking her head against the cabinet with each cresting wave until Julio cupped the back of her head and drew her face into the crook of his shoulder.

Sera shuddered and closed her eyes, shivering every time a lazy aftershock tightened her body around the broad fingers still deep inside her. Gasping for air only dragged the scent of him into her, the human smells of aftershave and cologne and the wild something that meant wolf.

She was in so far over her head. “You’re a dirty bastard.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” She took advantage of the proximity of his throat and licked his skin. “Are you using your psychic powers to scramble my brain?”

He tilted back his head. “They don’t scramble other people’s brains. Just mine, and only when I have a particularly intense vision.”

Even with his hand between her legs, the thought of being in his head was a thousand times more intoxicating. She licked her way to his pulse and bit softly. “Did you have a vision of this?”

“Only the highlights.” He brushed her hair back and smiled. “I told you—you’re beautiful when you come.”

Sera let her head fall back and shifted her hips enough to set off wild sparks where his fingers stroked inside her. “If you stay like that, you’re going to get a lot more highlights.”

“Oops.” Julio bit her chin and eased his hand away. “I forgot.”

Teasing play, and it melted her. Sera wrapped herself around him, knees hooked over his hips and arms locked around his back. Nuzzling her face into his neck felt natural, like she belonged there. “I’m touching you,” she whispered. “Please don’t make me stop.”

His voice dropped to a low rumble. “What about that swim you wanted?”

Her coyote yearned for it. Not as satisfying as shedding her human skin and running, but it was still a game.

Then again, there was a very human game to be played inside. Sera edged her fingers under his shirt with a questioning noise. “No sex?”

He freed her grip on his shirt. “Maybe not right now. At some point, though—hell yeah, sex.”

Sera huffed out a laugh and eased away to study his face. “For a legendary seducer, your pants are seriously hard to get into.”

Julio tugged her off the counter, holding her upright when she would have fallen. “I know the value of timing. Is that so bad?”

“No.” Not when her knees were this wobbly. She’d let him throw her onto whatever surface he wanted for as many limb-melting orgasms as made him happy. “Let’s go swimming.”

His fingers skimmed her nipple. “Like this? Naked?”

A tiny shift of her hip rubbed her up against his erection, and fuck. Impressive might not do his dick justice. “Holy hell, Julio. If you pull that thing out, you’re gonna need to handcuff me to something to keep my hands off it.”

He slapped her hand playfully. “Fine. I’ll wear trunks.”

Pity. Leaning in, she nuzzled his throat with a laugh. “If you want to distract me, slap my ass.”

He slid his hand down over her hip to her ass, but he offered her a squeeze instead of a slap.

“Plenty of time, sweetheart.”

Plenty of time, and if he gave her enough of it, she’d scare him off with just how bent she could be. She was, after all, a freak, so much of one that even the mating frenzy couldn’t keep Josh from eyeing her with barely masked disdain.

She wasn’t ready to look into Julio’s eyes and find disdain instead of warm affection. She wasn’t ready for this magical vacation from her life to be over before it had really started. So she smiled and kissed his chin, then spun away and bolted for the open back door. “Meet you in the water.”