t." She headed off in the direction of an ancient fir, from where Annie could hear the pleading strains of an adorable growl.
"Hello, Annie, isn't it?" Lucas held out a hand.
As she took it, she had the strangest sensation that everyone was watching her. "Good memory. You only met me once, at last year's Christmas pageant."
He grinned. "Let's just say I had some advance intel. So, how was the tour?"
"Perfect," Zach said, arm tightening around her. "But for some unfathomable reason, Annie's still deciding if she wants to date me."
"Zach!" She glared up at him.
He grinned and dropped a fast kiss on her lips. Blushing, she wondered if such public affection was normal within the pack. She got her answer a few seconds later as an exotically beautiful woman wrapped her arms around Lucas's neck from behind and pressed a kiss to his jaw. Her eyes, when they met Annie's, were the night sky of a cardinal Psy. White stars on black velvet.
"Hello, you must be Annie." Her voice was summer breezes and open fires, welcoming and gentle. "Lissa and Noelle," she explained, at Annie's surprised look. "They've been telling everyone they covet your jacket. They're planning to charm it off you before you leave. Be careful."
Annie couldn't do anything but smile in response to the warmth in that voice. "Thanks for the warning."
"Sascha," Zach said, "Annie made chocolate mud cake."
Sascha's face lit up like a child's. "Really?" She moved to grab Lucas's hand. "Come on, or the juveniles will eat it all. Talk to you later, Annie!"
Annie watched the pair leave and breathed out a sigh. "Your pack's . . . overwhelming."
"You'll get used to them." He rubbed the back of her neck. "They're just curious about you."
She felt another warning flicker in her mind, but then someone else was calling out Zach's name, and she was being introduced to more people, and then Zach was feeding her with the teasing smile of the cat flirting on his lips, and she forgot what it was that she'd worried about.
Chapter 7
They arrived at her apartment a few minutes after six. "I'll shower and change quickly," she told him as she unlocked the door and entered.
"Can I use your shower after?" He lifted up the suit bag he'd carried inside. "I got a packmate to drop by my house and bring this to the picnic. Want to make a good first impression on your folks."
Her stomach sank. "It probably won't make any difference."
"I told you, don't worry." Draping the suit bag over the back of her sofa, he prowled over. "Go, shower." It was a whisper that implied all sorts of sinful things. "I'll just sit out here and imagine the droplets racing over your skin, touching you . . . stroking you."
She felt her legs tremble. "Come in with me." It was the boldest invitation she'd ever made.
He smiled. "I plan to. But not today." He brushed his lips over hers. "When I shower with you, I don't want a time limit."
"Oh." Her mind bombarded her with images of the undoubtedly delicious things he'd do to her in the shower. "I should go . . ."
He rubbed a thumb over her bottom lip before shaking his head and pulling back. "Go, before I forget my good intentions. We'd never make it to the dinner then."
She hesitated.
He tapped her lightly on the bottom. "Don't even try it. I'm meeting your parents." So he could look them in the eye and let them know that regardless of what they thought of him, he was now in their daughter's life, and they had to deal with it. No more blind dates.
"Bossy." Annie shot him a scowl but went into the bedroom to grab her stuff.
She was going to be all hot and wet and naked soon.
"Christ." Shoving his hands through his hair, he tried to get the hard thrust of his cock to settle down. It refused. Especially since he could hear the rustle of cloth sliding over skin, of boots hitting tile, of lace being peeled off. . . or maybe that was his imagination.
But he definitely heard the shower come on. Groaning, he began to pace around the room, distracting himself by looking at Annie's things. Aside from books, she had several holoframes on the walls. Family photos, he guessed, noting her resemblance to the older woman in the central portrait. The man in the photo—her father, he assumed—was smiling genially, but there was something about him that struck the cat as distant.
The shower shut off.