A Werewolf to Call Her Own (Mystic Isle, Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

completely.
    So this was what it felt like. Desire. Passion. Chemistry.
    If this wasn’t chemistry, she couldn’t imagine what that would feel like. He felt perfect against her. She followed his lead, letting her tongue touch his. By the sound of his groan and the way his fingers tightened around her neck ever so slightly, she got the impression that she was doing something right.
    The perfectionist in her made her whisper, “How am I doing?”
    She wanted to snatch the words back immediately. Now was not the time for such questions, but he simply laughed and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close.
    “Too good,” he murmured into her hair. “We need to take a walk.”
    Hearing the change in his voice, the restraint, she licked her lips and stepped back. He groaned and pulled her back against him, chest against chest, thighs brushing. His cock nestled between them, and he kissed her quickly. Just a peck. A quick brush across the lips, as if he couldn’t help himself.
    Then he stepped to the side, chest rising with a deep breath, and slid an arm around her waist. She liked that. The feel of him next to her, around her, shielding her. She’d never felt connected to anyone in this way.
    They made their way across the deck, hips brushing the whole way, to the elevator. On the ground level, he led her to the beach. To the north, the volleyball game was still going strong. The bonfires continued to blaze, lighting their way to the south, showering the sand with extra heat.
    Coco had been right. Solstice was a time for new beginnings. For healing. Starting over. Starting fresh. Coco had found love. Accepted it. Embraced it.
    Why was she, Ceara Blackwell, so scared to embrace new experiences? All the things her parents had said to keep her safely in her cocoon were turning out to be wrong. Every day another myth was shattered. And tonight, tonight she’d met a man who heated her from the inside out. Wanted her, silly clothes and all.
    There was still much for her to learn. But she’d start by following his lead.
    Halfway down the beach, his steps slowed to a stop. She sent him a questioning look. He gave her a smile that made her knees soft. He dropped her hand, surveyed the sand, and then sank to his knees.
    “What are you --”
    “Building a sandcastle. Want to help?”
    And just like that, Ceara fell a little bit deeper.
     
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    Maxim sat back, brushing the sand from his hands and admired their handiwork. A small castle towered above the surrounding sand, little pillars at the corners.
    “Evidently sandcastle building is a competitive sport. I saw a show about it. They make massive designs…” She held her arms open wide. Maxim felt the beginning of a grin. “The sand is very important,” she was saying. Something about texture and moisture content. He had a hard time focusing on her words when he couldn’t tear his focus from her lips.
    She seemed to know a little about everything, which he appreciated. She certainly knew how to kiss. Which was why he couldn’t stop looking at her lips.
    “There. It is finished.”
    The woman on the other side of the structure beamed at him. “Wait…” She placed a twig in the center spiral. “A flagpole for our castle,” she said, her French accent thick.
    He couldn’t believe something so simple could make her so happy. But he understood all too well the feeling of being imprisoned. Held against your will. Waiting to take a breath, ready, oh so ready to start your life and move forward. Toward your future. The future you only dreamed of.
    And hers consisted of a to-do list like he’d never seen before.
    “It won’t win any contests, but that was fun.” She brushed the sand from her hands and sat back on her heels. The position drew his attention to her curves.
    It was too bad he’d be returning home on Monday, away from this magical island. Far away from her. He sighed. Which was why he should probably start backing off right now. And