Mate. Mate. Mate
Brock’s Dire Wolf had kept up the mantra throughout the entire evening. He couldn’t help it. Everything about her, from the surprising way she handled herself with Susan to the way she seemed to accept him on his terms, was remarkable. Perfect even.
After they’d eaten, he took her hand and led her out of the restaurant for the private suite he’d rented for the night. No obligations. No pretenses.
That was what he’d told himself, and now it was his turn to tell her. He could scent her desire and her nervousness. Both were tempting beyond his experience. He could’ve killed Susan for sitting with them for so long and purposely giving the wrong impression to Ariella.