Cry Wolf

Chapter Fifteen - The Attraction

AN: There is a bxb relationship in this book. You can skip those chapters if you want, but I won't post warnings since they are simply part of the story.

The Attraction

Christopher's POV

"What are you?"

Roland frowns, his big hand clenching in my hair. "What do you mean?" There's an edge to his tone. A warning.

My throat constricts and I need to clear it before I can speak. "You have fangs and your eyes are glowing. Those aren't exactly human traits."

"You're mistaken," he dismisses. He gives my hair a soft tug, warning me again not to press.

"I'm not mistaken," I argue softly. His hand feels so good in my hair and my eyes grow heavy. Foolish. I should be scared. Yet the one emotion I don't feel is fear.

He's so close. Too close. A massive warm body of pure strength. I can't deny the attraction. It's intense. And I pray it's not just me. Something this strong can't be one sided. But I'm scared that it is. That the heat and sexual tension I feel is all in my head.

Never in my life have I wanted anything more than for this man to want me too. Human or not.

He shifts closer, guiding me towards him. Our bodies connect and the jolt I feel is like an electric shock wave through my system. Roland lets out a deep breath, as if he feels it too. I hope to god he does.

His head dips low, inches from my lips. "You are," he murmurs.

"I'm not." The words are meek, barely audible. But he hears it. I know he does because his eyes narrow to burning slits.

"Stubborn," he rumbles. His head descends and for one heart stopping moment I think he's going to kiss me. Instead he rubs his cheek and nose against the crook of my neck. His arm wraps around my waist and he hauls me closer, pressing us together fully.

"Roland..." My heart is slamming in my chest now. I can feel every hard ridge and dip of his strong body and the rush of arousal that follows is staggering.

He nuzzles the soft spot under my ear, breathing me in and rasping something in French. I feel his fangs graze my skin and strangely there's still no fear. Only anticipation. My eyes drift shut and on instinct I arch my neck, giving him better access. He takes it, his hot tongue trailing along my skin in one long slow lick.

I whimper, unsure and immensely turned on. It's obvious and my cheeks burn with the knowledge that he can probably feel it.

"Mon Dieu, you tempt me," he groans. The arm around my waist tightens, his other hand fisting my hair. His lips lock around the soft spot of my neck, sucking greedily. To my acute desire I feel his own arousal hard against my stomach. Big. Intimidating. Like the man.

I'm in way over my head. And I don't care. His greedy mouth is hard and punishing, his fangs scraping my tender skin. I know it'll leave a bruise and that thrills me even more.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize we're making out on my front lawn. That a neighbor could be watching. Or worse, my father. That someone may even call the police.

"Roland, s-stop."

He growls and at first I don't think he'll listen. Then he raises his head stiffly, staring down at me. He's so attractive in a purely masculine way it takes my breath way. His eyes are too chaotic for me to understand what he's feeling and I hope he doesn't think I'm rejecting him.

"I didn't want you to stop...it's just...It's not that I didn't like..." The words are a jumbled mess, breathless and husky. Could I sound any more desperate?