Young Brothers - My Sister Is A Werewolf Part 24

That was true-it had been.

"Well, he can't believe you'd be here with me," he told her, hoping that would soothe her obviously injured feelings.

"That isn't true," she said softly, looking down at her gla.s.s. "And he's right. You shouldn't be here with me."

Elizabeth could tell her words confused him, although how they could was a mystery to her. Just the look of surprise on his friend's face said it all. Said exactly what she'd been saying before she got caught up in the fantasy of being normal and human and able to fit back into a world she thought was lost to her.

"Your friend was wondering why you would choose me over the blonde from the other night." It wasn't a question, although she knew Jensen would respond.

"No. He didn't say that."

"He said something, though, didn't he?"

"He said you were gorgeous."

She snorted at that, not caring that the sound was more than a little inelegant.

"You are."

"Okay," she said, not believing him. "But that isn't what he said."

"Actually, he did say that, but he did also say he was surprised at me. My friends have this set idea of

'my type' and they didn't think you fit into that."

She started to tell him she'd been right then, but he cut her off.

"But I think I know myself a h.e.l.l of a lot better than they do. Way better, actually. And you are

absolutely my type." He moved closer to her, placing one of his broad hands against her back. "I can't remember being this attracted to anyone. Ever." He leaned closer, obviously about to kiss her. But before their lips met, she saw something there. Something mingling with his yearning. An almost-melancholy. She told herself to turn away from his kiss. She needed to stick to her guns. This wasn't right for him.

Agreeing to date him was just greed on her part. She was using him, and in truth, she liked him far, far too much to do that. But instead of pulling away, she leaned into him, her lips meeting his. She made a small noise, a desperate noise, and his arms came around her.

Neither of them seemed to remember they were in the middle of a party. All they were aware of was each other. "Elizabeth?" he murmured against her lips. "Yes?" "I think we should get out of here. Not because you aren't the right type for me. Not because of anything my friend said. But because I want you so d.a.m.ned much I can't even think straight." She stared into his eyes, feeling like she was getting lost in the darkest, greenest forest. She nodded. She wanted nothing more. Neither of them spoke to anyone as they slipped out of the party. Jensen rushed her to his truck, handing her in. She had some pretty fond memories of this truck. Naughty as they were. "What are you smiling about?" Jensen asked as he slid up onto the seat. "Nothing." Her smile grew. "I get the feeling you might be laughing at me." She immediately sobered. "No. Definitely not." "So tell me." She glanced at him, another naughty little grin curling her lips. "I'm thinking that maybe our second date is going to end very well."

Jensen smiled at that. "Really?"

"Oh yeah."

Chapter 18.

Jensen managed to get them home ten minutes faster than it should have taken, and with no major traffic incidents, with the exception of a few sharply made turns. But his rather reckless driving did seem a little adolescent.

Until he s.h.i.+fted the truck into Park and turned to the woman next to him. Then it just seemed like a really good plan, because soon, he was going to be holding this gorgeous woman very close to him.

"Sorry about the kind of crazy driving," he did feel the need to say.

She smiled. "I didn't notice."

He knew she was lying, but he appreciated her trying to make him seem less desperate.

"Did you want to come in? I have some tea or coffee."

He nodded, finding the question a little funny. Of course he wanted to come in. And he wanted more than coffee or tea. He wanted her. Now.

Instead, he opened his door, hopped down, and came around to open the door for her. He took her hand and helped her down, fighting the urge to tug her close. Instead, he linked his fingers with her more slender ones and started across the lawn.

Neither of them spoke as they walked into the house. Elizabeth steered them toward the kitchen. She released his hand as she walked over to the counter.

"No tea," she said after perusing her cupboards. "But I do have coffee."

"Coffee's great," he said, surprised after the times they had been together that he actually felt a little nervous at the prospect of it happening again. It made no sense, except that every time he was with her, he felt like he was in a little deeper.

h.e.l.l, he knew he was in deep. He wanted that-and that scared him.

She crossed to her counter and began to prepare the hot drink, bending forward to grab filters and then to fill the carafe with water. The angle gave him a perfect view of her perfectly rounded bottom against the silky fabric of her dress.

She moved to peer into the fridge.

"I only have milk," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

His eyes immediately moved up to meet hers, and he knew his expression was one of guilt.

"I take my coffee black."

She gave him a slight smile, then ducked back into the fridge. And this time he could have sworn she

wiggled her hips a little as she searched.

He smiled. All of the Elizabeth he'd first met was not gone, which was definitely not a disappointment.

Then again, nothing about Elizabeth was a disappointment. She was perfect. Although she often didn't seem to realize that.

She straightened and took the milk carton to the counter and opened a drawer to rummage for a spoon.

He didn't wander closer, afraid that if he did, he'd have to touch her.

She turned to him, leaning against the counter. The only sound was the hiss and pop of the brewing

coffee. They just looked at each other, not speaking, just wanting each other.

The coffee hissed loudly, indicating it was done. She smiled at him, the sight making his body tighten with

desire. She turned back to the counter and filled two mugs. Then she strolled toward him, holding out one for him.

Their fingers brushed lightly, teasingly, as he accepted it.

"It's a really nice night," she said. "Would you like to go sit on the porch swing?"

Now that seemed like an innocent enough thing to do. The kind of thing that parents had allowed their

dating teens to do for generations. Surely that was safe.

"That sounds like a great idea."

She led him back to the large porch attached to the front of the house. On one end, a wooden swing

cus.h.i.+oned with floral pillows swung slightly in the breeze.

He waited for her to sit, then settled beside her, trying to keep a little s.p.a.ce between them. The swing

creaked as they rocked in a slow, steady rhythm. Even that made him think of what he'd like to be doing with and to Elizabeth at this very moment.

He closed his eyes just briefly, trying to push the idea out of his mind. Then he took a swallow of the hot,

richly bitter brew.

"This is nice," she said, sounding far calmer than he felt.

"Yes."

They swayed back and forth, the sound of the breeze in the trees, the low squeak of the swing. All of it

should have been lulling, calming. But all Jensen could feel was the heat radiating from Elizabeth's body.

The smell of her-the rich, spicy scent. All he could think about was how much he wanted her.

But he had to stay cool.

"Jensen?"

"Mmm," he said, then took a sip of his coffee, trying to focus on that rather than his own d.a.m.ned libido,

which was in overdrive, and had been all night long.

"I think... I think we should... "

He glanced at her, and she leaned forward and kissed him. It was a quick kiss, not at all like the long,

slow kiss they had shared outside at the anniversary party. But somehow, it was far more telling.

"I know I told you that I was ashamed of my behavior when I first met you. And I still can't explain it,

but the truth is... I just want you far too much to do this slow thing."

He stared at her. Holy monkey.

"Elizabeth... "

She placed her fingers up to his lips, the gesture designed to shush him, but the touch reminded him so

much of the very first time she'd touched him.

"Tonight," she said, her finger a cool and pleasing pressure on his mouth. "Tonight you let me experience

something I thought I'd lost."

He didn't understand. He had no idea what he'd let her experience.