Angie had a really great sense of style, amazing friends, and absolutely no delusions about herself. Or anyone else for that matter.

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Not really.” He continued to wrap her hair around his finger until his hand rested close to her cheek.

He had her trapped with the tall dresser at her back and her hair wrapped around his hand. She had to lean her head back to get a good look at him. The hillbilly towered over her. The man was big. Huge. Conall-sized. Just a little leaner.

She cleared her throat, trying her best to maintain a bit of pseudo-calm. Of course, she didn’t feel calm. But she didn’t feel scared either. She didn’t know what she felt except extreme panic and a growing wetness between her legs that very few men had been able to get out of her without their hands or mouth on certain parts of her anatomy. And that sound. What the fuck was that sound?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Ever since he took hold of her hair, she kept hearing that damn sound.

Good God. That was her! That thumping noise was coming from between her legs. Was her clit supposed to sound that loud pounding against her panties? And could the hillbilly hear it? This could get seriously embarrassing.

“Look, Hillbilly.” She looked for a way around him, but he wouldn’t move and he seemed in no hurry to release her hair. “If I’m gonna stay here, maybe we should get a few things straight.”

He leaned in suddenly. His grip tightening on her hair. And, man, but did that feel good. He put his nose right against her neck. Is the man smelling me? “What exactly would those few things be, Sugar?”

“First off, stop smelling me!”

“Sorry. It’s just…,” he took another sniff. “You smell good enough to…”

“Don’t you dare say it.”

“…lick.”

Then he did. Right across her jugular. His tongue, warm and dry, pulling the skin of her neck as it rasped across it.

She almost dropped. Right there. Right at his giant, hillbilly feet. But at the same time, her fight or flight response kicked in. And she did the only thing she could think of. She brought her knee up, aiming for his nuts.

But the fucker moved like lightning. He grabbed her knee before it ever touched him. His hand sliding around and up, lifting her leg. He leaned his body against hers as he wrapped her leg tightly around his hip.

He did it so fast, she didn’t even realize what the hell had happened until his body pinned her against the dresser, the heavy wood banging against the wall behind it.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

***

Nik knew he had to stop. He knew he needed to back away and let her get on with her packing or unpacking or whatever the hell she had been doing when he walked in. Then he would go outside as tiger and kill thefirst unlucky thing that came across his path. Hopefully one of his brothers.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t walk away from her. He never met a woman capable of making him this… feral before. He considered himself out of control at the moment, at least by Vorislav standards. But she really did smell good. And she tasted even better.

Damn his brothers to hell and back! Why the hell did they bring this vicious, foul-mouthed piece of ass into his home? Yesterday his life had been going so well. Quiet. Simple. With the occasional elk thrown in for good measure.

Now he was more than ten grand in the hole, had a healthy knot on his forehead, and he’d pinned some stranger up against his furniture while grinding his painfully hard erection into her amazingly hot crotch. And, man, but did that feel good.

Her hands, still covered in scratches and scrapes from the day before, grabbed hold of his T-shirt. But instead of pulling him in for the kiss he desperately wanted to give her, she shoved him away.

“Get the fuck offa me!”

Nik released her and her hair immediately. He didn’t want to, but never in his life had he ever forced a woman to do anything she didn’t want to—and making his baby sister eat dirt just didn’t count—so he wasn’t about to start now.

Like an alley cat trapped under his couch, she hissed at him, “Don’t ever put your fuckin’ hands on me. I don’t like to be touched.”

“Really? Cause it smells like you didn’t mind much.”

***

Goddamn, motherfuckin’ shapeshifters! As far as Angie was concerned…they cheated! Being able to smell fear, panic, pain, and now lust ripped away her ability to lie her Latina ass off.

And, to her growing rage, he was right. She didn’t mind much. For the first time ever, she didn’t mind being cornered. By a lunatic hillbilly, no less. A lunatic hillbilly who made her feel like she hadn’t had sex in a thousand years…and that this might be her one and only chance.

No, sex with the hillbilly wouldn’t be the problem. Her lack of control would be the problem. And she could see it in his eyes. She’d never be able to control him. Never be able to tell him what to do and just have him do it. His brothers were easy. A few complimentary words, a few glances from beneath her lashes, and she could lead them anywhere. But not this one.

This was not some big kitty she could lead around by his cock. This one was a big, mean, woman-eating tiger. And she’d do well to keep her legs closed and her body off-limits.

Controlling men and sex were the only things she ever had going for her, she wasn’t about to give that up to this asshole.

No matter how badly she wanted him to push her onto all fours and fuck her from behind.