meat.
Manda glanced up at him and blinked. He looked at the raw meat the same way she did!
“You like it raw, too, don’t you?”
Too? He liked his meat raw? She nodded her head.
“Good. Do you mind sharing with me? It’s been a long journey, searching for you.”
She shook her head, entirely confused now. No one else ever ate his meat raw. She was the only one. The freak.
He reached in the cupboard and grabbed two plates. Set them on the table without silverware. Grabbed a knife, tore open the plastic wrap covering the steaks and slid a thick slab of meat onto each plate.
“Do you want me to cut it up?”
She nodded. Carefully, he cut one of the steaks into bitesized pieces. Then he held her chair for her and Manda slipped into it, resting on one hip to avoid that damned tail. He sat down across the table from her and waited.
Confused, she stared at him, then caught a strong whiff of the meat. Hunger took over and she practically attacked the steak, using one paw to hold the plate. Biting and licking up the pieces, tearing at them with her sharp canines. Swallowing the meat in huge gulping bites.
It tasted warm and rich and she thought of what it must be like, to hunt and kill and eat meat still warm from life. She’d rather think imaginary dreams than actually consider the implications of the man sitting across from her.
She knew he must be watching her, but the hunger was too powerful, her need too great. She licked the last remnants of blood from the plate, still holding it down with one paw. Finally, Manda forced herself to stop and raise her head. He’d left his piece of the steak intact. Now he sat across from her, holding the bloody slab of meat in his two hands, chewing thoughtfully as he watched her eat.
She licked around her muzzle with her long tongue. So what if he saw! He already knew what she looked like. Then she used both hands to pick up a napkin and carefully wiped the rest of the blood away from her face. Hunger assuaged, Manda watched the man finish the last of his steak with obvious relish. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled at her, then rested his chin on his folded hands. “Do you want to tell me your story, or should I tell you mine?”
“Tell me who you are.” Her voice sounded scratchy, as she so rarely used it anymore. Still, he looked pleased that she’d at least said something to him. Even more important, he didn’t look frightened by her. He didn’t look away.
“My name is Baylor Quinn. Bay, for short. I’m with a group called Pack Dynamics, and I’m here to help you.”
“You said that already. There’s no way to help me. Look at me.” Belly full, finally more angry than frightened, Manda pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. She had to catch the edge of the table for balance. She held her arms out, displaying her smock-clad body as best she could. “I’m a freak. An example of what happens when you sin. I’m cursed. You can’t help a curse.”
“You’re not cursed. You’re caught halfway between shifts.”
Manda shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know it doesn’t, but it can. It will. You have to trust me, though. I want to show you what I mean, but you need to trust me. Don’t be afraid, don’t scream. Most of all, don’t run away.”
She frowned. “I can barely walk. Running’s out of the question. Where would I go? Besides, why would I want to run away?”
He laughed, but he stayed well back from her. “Because you’re going to think I’m absolutely nuts. I’m not. Nor am I a pervert, but I have to take my clothes off if I’m going to do this right.”
Manda laughed. She couldn’t help herself. In fact, she realized that in some perverse way she was actually enjoying herself. What she’d feared for so long—discovery—had finally come to pass. The worst that could happen to her had happened and she was still alive. For now. “You’re kidding, right? You think you’re going to just barge in here, eat one of my steaks, and tell me not to weird out when you take your clothes off? I may be a freak, but you’re certifiable.”
“Maybe.” He unzipped the heavy black leather suit and peeled it off. There were regular clothes underneath. Manda realized he was much slimmer than she’d first thought. Once the suit was off, he started unbuttoning his shirt.
“What I have to show you has nothing to do with being naked, and everything to do with who and what you are. What we are. For the record, I have a very good friend who looked almost exactly as you do. He’s now a very handsome man with a wife and new baby…and sometimes he’s a wolf.”
She was still trying to process what he’d said when he slipped his muscular arms free of his long-sleeved cotton shirt and draped the shirt over the kitchen chair. Manda hadn’t seen a man’s chest for years, and she’d never seen one like his, so perfect it made her sex tighten in anticipation and terrified her at the same time. What was it he said? He had a friend just like her? Impossible.
He reached for his belt and she turned around.
“No,” he said. “I want you to watch.”
She snorted. “You really are a pervert, aren’t you?” She didn’t turn away. Couldn’t. Just knowing how she’d reacted to the brief sight of his lean, muscled chest with the dark swirl of hair between his nipples warned Manda anything else might be too much. Still, shouldn’t she be afraid? A stranger had forced his way into her home, eaten her food and now was undressing and asking her to watch?
She must be just as perverted as he was. Or maybe she was merely desperate.
“Please. You need to turn around and watch this. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She heard the sound of his boots hitting the floor, then the rustle of his jeans. Tried to imagine the lean strength of his hips and whether or not the hair on his groin matched the dark pelt on his chest.
“You really do need to watch me if you’re going to understand.”
Manda sighed. What was the point? She pivoted slowly, awkwardly, and caught the briefest glimpse of him naked. Tall, lean, and muscular with the kind of body that could provide plenty of fuel for any woman’s fantasy…even a freak’s.
Then he was gone. So quickly Manda barely had time to gasp.
In his place was a wolf. Black overall, with amber eyes that glistened against the ebony fur, the beast sat patiently in exactly the same spot where Baylor had been standing.
Manda’s twisted legs gave out. She fell to her knees, caught herself with one hand braced on the floor. She reached out and touched the animal’s face, scooted closer and ran her fingers the length of an ear. “Baylor? Is that you?”
The wolf nodded. Such a human response was almost too much. Almost. She touched him with both hands now, hands that weren’t nearly as much like paws as his. He held up one foot, almost as if he knew what she was thinking. Manda took his big paw in her own, compared the ebony nails, the thick pads on his, the longer fingers on hers.
It couldn’t be. It was impossible, but then wasn’t she impossible as well? “How?” She sat back on her fanny, hard, and it hurt because the stub of a tail that had never quite become anything other than a stub got in the way. Scrambling to her feet, Manda held out her hands. “Tell me. How?”
Then, as if she’d blinked and missed something miraculous, Baylor Quinn stood in front of her again. He was closer though, his lean body so sleek and perfect she wanted to weep at the wretched ugliness of her own.
She clasped her hands in front of her waist to keep from touching him, stared unabashed at his male perfection, the lean cut of his belly, the thick length of his dark penis. It wasn’t quite flaccid, nor as hard as she knew it could be, resting there against the heavy weight of his testicles.
Manda knew all about those parts of a man. Knew they