Hunting Season: Werewolf Bodyguard Romance (Guarded by the Shifter Book 1) by Kate Rudolph (new reading TXT) 📗

of amazing." There was reverence in his tone, something she'd never heard another say about her, and her heart pounded wildly.

She opened her eyes and stared right into his. Brown now, soft and promising. When they'd appeared gold last night it must have been a trick of the light. Possibility hung heavy in the air. All it would take was for one of them to make a move.

One of them did.

Maybe both.

Stasia wasn't sure, and then Owen was kissing her and she didn't care. His hand cradled the back of her head, holding her close to him like she was precious. Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers digging into hard muscle and clinging desperately, begging him with her touch not to pull away.

He groaned deep in his throat and heat curled inside Stasia. She moved forward until she straddled his lap, fully on top of him and still desperate for more contact. It was carnal, feral, something more than she'd ever felt before.

It should have scared her, this roaring inferno of need, but Owen was touching her, kissing her, and fear had no place here, not between the two of them.

His tongue swiped against hers and it was her turn to groan. Talented tongue. She knew it and she wanted more. What could he do if she had him in bed?

A faint ringing interrupted them and Stasia was confused. Then Owen stiffened under her and pulled away. His pupils were huge and his lips swollen. He looked at her with unquenchable heat, and Stasia wanted to lean right in and ignore whoever was trying to interrupt them. She didn't think any man had ever looked at her like that.

"Phone," Owen said, voice gone gravelly with lust. "Could be important."

"Probably isn't." She would have ignored just about anything if it meant he would kiss her again.

But Owen was still her bodyguard and he still took the job seriously, even when his hard cock was trapped between them.

He answered the phone and Stasia was impressed with how professional he sounded. A wicked, newly awakened part of her wanted to play with him, to kiss and touch and see how long it would take his demeanor to break.

But that wasn't her. She didn't do things like that. Instead she slid off of him and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get it into something approaching order.

Someone knocked at the door.

Stasia looked down the hall as if that would reveal who it was. She wasn't expecting anyone, but trusted the doorman not to let a stranger come up. Owen was still speaking quietly into the phone so she stood, planning to check the security camera.

His hand flashed out and he grabbed her wrist. "I'm going with you. Don't answer the door."

A cascade of emotions slammed through her: frustration that he thought she was stupid enough to blindly open the door, fear that someone had gotten past the doorman, a stubborn desire to actually answer the door just to spite him, and a bit of residual lust at his commanding tone.

She wasn't going to examine that last one too closely.

The knocking stopped.

Owen ended his call and put his phone down. "Surveillance was checking in, they saw someone head up."

"I'm not expecting anyone." Stasia's brain was still a bit frazzled from the kiss and it took her a moment to get her thoughts in order.

Owen stood up right next to her, the concept of personal space forgotten. "Does anyone have a key? I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend."

A boyfriend? What did he mean by that? Why would he care? Well… maybe he had reason. Was he jealous?

Footsteps tapped down the hallway and Owen stepped in front of her. Whoever it was clearly did have a key, and there were only a few people Stasia trusted that much.

A blonde woman stepped in the doorway to the library and looked at Owen and then over his shoulder to Stasia. "Am I interrupting something?" her sister, Emerald, asked.

Chapter Eleven

Emerald Selby looked a little familiar, but Owen wasn't sure why. Was it a resemblance to Stasia? There might have been a hint of it in the curve of her jaw and the shape of her nose, but with blonde hair falling in gentle waves past her shoulders and eyes as blue as the sea, not much about her coloring suggested a connection.

Some survival instinct instructed him to put distance between himself and his client. His wolf protested, but he managed to take half a step. He could still taste her on his lips and remember the press of her body as she sat in his lap.

He was going to kiss her again. And when he did, they weren't going to be interrupted.

His body ached with want. He knew lust. He'd been a horny asshole at times, but it was nothing like what he felt when it came to her. His wolf was unsettled in his skin. He wanted Stasia's sister to go away so he and Stasia could get back to what they were meant to be doing.

Mate.

There was that word again. If he thought it a few more times, he wondered if he'd begin to believe it. Was something like that possible? Was she his?

Yes.

His wolf knew it, even if the man was still trying to figure a thing or two out. But he knew that a person didn't forget a kiss like that, and they didn't let go of a woman like Stasia.

He wasn't supposed to get attached to his clients. Gibson would probably have kittens if he knew what Owen wanted. Damn the consequences, Owen was ready to take on the world for the chance to stand at Stasia's side.

If she would give him that chance.

Emerald came further into the library and pulled a small rolling suitcase in behind her. It was one of those hard cased suitcases in a blinding red.

"Fuck," said Stasia, stepping around Owen to get closer to her sister. She looked at the suitcase and then