Chapter 93: Composure
"You know what to do." A slow, knowing smirk spread across her face. she sauntered away, leaving Dennis standing there, breathless and in need.
He ran a hand down his face, trying to gather the last of his shredded composure.
*****
Ava squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to think of Lucas. Maybe if she imagined his hands on her, his lips claiming hers, the unbearable heat flooding her body would lessen. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like she was about to come undone at the seams.
She clenched her thighs together, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Willow... Willow, please. She called to her wolf, but the animal was quiet and beyond reason, lost in instinct and need.
"Ava?"
Her eyes flew open. For a heartbeat, she dared to hope. "Lucas?"
"No... no, Ava. It’s me. Dennis."
Ava swallowed the lump of disappointment in her throat. What had she been expecting? That Lucas would suddenly be standing there, drawn to her, finally realizing that she was his? That fate, for once, would be kind?
She turned her face away from the door. "Go away," she murmured.
Dennis hesitated. He could hear the strain in her voice, the unspoken plea tangled in her words. He stood there, war raging inside him. The moment he had scented her heat, his wolf, buried deep for a decade, had howled in response.