It took me a few seconds to notice Shannon when I walked into the bedroom. I nearly walked straight past her to the bathroom, until she cleared her throat and I glanced towards the bed. “Oh....”
She lay naked on the plum-colored sheets, her fair skin glowing against the rich color.
She gazed at me through her eyelashes, lips pouting, fingers trailing idly over her stomach. Her blonde hair shone in the low lamplight and the beret I’d bought her yesterday was perched jauntily on her head, drawing a wide grin from me.
“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” she asked, fluttering her eyelids at me.
I practically pounced on her, snarling in frustration as I struggled to rip off my clothes. Shannon laughed as she helped me, rolling me underneath her and pinning me down so she could pull off my top. Hungry for her, I locked my arms round her neck, pulling her down for a kiss. We fumbled on the slippery sheets, Shannon scrambling for my jeans zip, me tangling my fingers in her hair, knocking the beret off. Finally we managed to claw me out of my jeans and my underwear followed fast.
For a hot second we simply clung to each other in silence, gazing into each other’s eyes. In the dim light, she looked angelic. I didn’t want to move and break the spell, just wanted to stare at her forever, push away the fights we’d had over the past few weeks and the strange, dark turn our romantic break had taken. Her skin was soft and warm, and she nestled into me with a breathy sigh, pushing her breasts against me.
I moved—slowly, so slowly, drawing out every second—down her body, tongue and
fingers caressing that beautiful skin as I did. Shannon moaned and sighed, shifting her hips, guiding my attentions where she wanted them. After a while, she lost patience and flipped our positions, taking mere minutes to render me senseless with quick, wicked lashes of her tongue. I lost patience even faster than her and it was only a few minutes more before we were rolling around in the sheets, nipping, scratching, kissing.
Somewhere in the midst of it all I heard a door click, heard footsteps in the hall, but it barely registered and was quickly forgotten as I was far more interested in nibbling my way up Shannon’s leg and listening to her squeal in mock protest as I did.
Later, lying breathless, hot and happy in Shannon’s arms, I wondered again if I should go check on Sun. I asked Shannon. She kissed my neck. “Stop fussing,” she ordered me. “I had no idea you could be such a mother hen.”
I didn’t push it. This evening had been exactly what we’d come here for—time together away from the Pack, romance, fun. I didn’t want to ruin that, didn’t want to leave the warm circle of her arms, so I pushed Sun out of my mind and turned my attention back to my mate. Neither of us were ready to sleep just yet.
Ayla Hammond is taking on Paris. Hoping for a romantic getaway in the City of Lights with her girlfriend, Shannon, she finds a city under the dark thrall of Le Monstre. Getting caught up in mystery and murder was the last thing Ayla and Shannon wanted or expected, but as the body count grows and tension rises between Parisian werewolves and humans, they find themselves stalked by an unknown terror.
What is Le Monstre and why does it make Ayla's wolf want to turn tail and run? Can it be stopped before they become its next victims?
Naomi Clark lives in Cambridge and is a mild-mannered office worker by day, but a slightly crazed writer by night. She has a perfectly healthy obsession with giant sea creatures and a preference for vodka-based cocktails. When she's not writing, Naomi is probably either reading or watching 80s cartoon shows, and sometimes she manages to do all three at once.