Last Call 1: Kamikaze by Moira Rogers

Author:Moira Rogers [Rogers, Moira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mf
Publisher: Changeling Press
Published: 2011-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

The wolf woke her.

For a moment Zoe felt disoriented, unsure how she’d come to be curled in decadently expensive sheets with a very strong, very male body curled around her. Their scents were so entwined she could barely separate them, something that pleased the wolf immensely.

She had no idea what time it was. The room held no windows, and the small clock on the bedside table was turned away -- deliberately, she imagined. The longer she stayed, after all, the more money they made.

She stretched slowly, ignoring the desire uncurling inside her. It was weak compared to the frantic need of last night, a gentle longing instead of a desperate ache.

The fact that it had faded at all surprised her. John had struggled to satisfy her hunger last time, but his creativity and stamina had worn thin by the end of the second day. Considering how much worse it had been this time, she’d expected it to take days for the wolf to grow satisfied.

Her stomach rumbled, and desire took a back seat to another need. She tried to wiggle away, but Connor’s arms tightened slightly, and she froze, torn between conflicting hungers.

“What time is it?” His voice was drowsy and hoarse from sleep.

“Don’t know --” She twisted around and nuzzled her face against his chest. “Hungry, though.”

Connor laughed. “For food?”

She liked his laugh, and the way it rumbled through his chest. She kissed a spot just below his collarbone and then scored it with her teeth. “That, too.”

He raised his head and blinked at her. “They do room service, you know.”

“Mmm.” She kissed the top of his shoulder and shifted up the bed until her nose bumped against his neck. The sharp, masculine scent was still there, mixed with sweat and sex and her own scent. The wolf quieted, content that her mate bore her scent as a warning to others. Zoe kissed his throat and then lifted her head. “I want steak.”

“How do you want it?” he asked, grinning wickedly as he reached for the sleek black telephone beside the bed.

Zoe wrinkled her nose at him. “There’s enough of me in here now that I’d like it medium-well, thank you. Anyway, she’s not hungry for food.”

Connor slapped the phone to his ear. “Thank God. Mooing steak kills my appetite.” He pressed the single button on the phone and arched an eyebrow. “Booze? Chocolate?”

She was distracted by the way his chest vibrated when he talked. “Chocolate and booze,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his chest before shifting lower. “Champagne. Something bubbly.”

The muscles of his stomach tightened under her touch. He ordered quickly, his voice tense, and tossed the phone to the floor after he’d hung up. “Are you having fun?”

She was having a lot of fun. She teased her tongue across his abdomen and then turned to press her cheek against his stomach, staring up the length of his body at his face. “Tell me about your job. You do security? What kind?”

“Electronic, mostly.” He stretched a little and stroked her hair.

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