WarDog: Book Twelve in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series by Alana Khan (types of ebook readers TXT) 📕

are things that become fuzzier when I’m in canine form and things that grow sharper. The aroma of excitement is sharp. I can smell emotions.

Since I met her, Willa has reeked of longing and sadness. Her love for me, though, has never wavered.

I sniff in and get a big gust of her scent. It’s not full of her love now. It’s fearful . . . and aroused.

I’m under the covers but can see the flag of my desire stating the obvious. By the look in her flared brown eyes, she sees it too.

I don’t want to think about the last decade. That would make me both melancholy and furious. I’d rather pay attention to the attraction arcing between us like a living thing.

“Willa. Join me,” my tone is warm, persuasive.

A picture of what she was doing this morning flies into my mind with as much clarity as anything that happened in my shifted form. How lovely she was when she pressed her head back against her pillow, her mouth open in a small ‘o’. The swiftness of her hand circling between her legs. The soft, desperate noises she made when she got close, and the long, low satisfied moan when she reached her climax.

My cock is rock hard when I remember that. My canine nose comes alive beneath my skin as I recreate it in my memory—the spicy bite and allure of her scent. When I glance at her again, I’m sure my desire is clear as my gaze burns through her.

Take her, mate her. My canine whines and nudges. I push him back and assure him that’s the plan.

“I could ease you,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as rough to her as it does to me. “I could give you more than you gave yourself this morning.”

By her reaction, this wasn't the right thing to say. Her lids fly wide, as does her mouth. She paces backward until her back hits the wall. Her small hands fly up, palms toward me as if to keep me away although I’m lying on my back. I doubt she even knows she’s doing it.

What did I do wrong? I sniff again, four little breaths and one long one. I’m certain I’m right. The scent of her arousal is thick in the air. There must be something I don’t understand. My memories are still shrouded in fog with only little snippets of clarity.

I have no doubt, though, that in my pack, we expressed our desires freely with willing partners in both two- and four-legged form until we mated. Then my species never stray from their mates. In my head WarDog whines in confusion and distress and it’s all I can do not to make the same sound out loud.

“Willa?”

“What?”

“I desire you.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious.” Her gaze flicks to the tent my cock is making under the covers.

“You desire me,” I point out the obvious, my head cocked because I don’t comprehend the problem.

“No. I don’t.”

I breathe in loudly through my nose. “Yes. You do.”

Her eyes prick with tears. She looks surprised and ashamed, then shakes her head.

“You’re mistaken. And why are we having this discussion? We just met.”

“You said you’ve known me for three lunars.”

“Well, yeah . . . No, I've known you for two hours. I knew WarDog for three lunars.”

“I am that canine. Weren’t you there when I shifted?”

“We’ve exchanged maybe a hundred words. All of them in the last few hours. That’s how long I’ve known you.” She’s angry. I don’t understand why. Her mind wants one thing but her body desires something else.

“You’re angry. What did I do?”

She takes a deep breath as a thousand emotions flit across her face. They shift from surprise to anger to sadness then circle back to anger.

“We just met. We’ve known each other for two hours and you’ve propositioned me. That’s rude.”

“It is? I smell your need. I offered to ease you.” I’m baffled. Perhaps my translator is old and needs an update. But that couldn’t be it. I can read the expression on her face without benefit of translation. She’s furious, and hurt.

WarDog, as he now wants to be called, is anxious and pacing inside my head. He releases one plaintive whine.

“You do not smell my need. That’s rude. It is not something we talk about in polite society.”

“Okay. I won’t mention it again.” This conversation is making my head ache.

She dips her face into her hands, her shoulders sagging. I smell her tears. I’ve made her cry. Willa, the kindest person in my life in the last decade, and I’ve somehow saddened her by offering to ease her.

I climb out of bed and walk to her, then fold her into my arms.

Bending my head to her ear, I whisper, “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I wanted to provide pleasure, not pain.”

Instead of comforting her, I hear her sobs. Now I’ve made her weep. I know I’ve been in my shifted form for a long time, but did things change that much since I’ve been gone? How could I make such a mess of this?

“I’m sorry.” I pet her head like she’s petted mine since I’ve known her.

“You’re naked!” she moans as she presses her palms against my chest and half-heartedly pushes me away.

Trying to comply with her wishes, I take a step back, my head cocked to her level so I can discern what she’s thinking.

“You’re aroused!” she accuses.

“Yes. You’re beautiful.” Certainly this compliment should calm her.

“Bayne!” Her tone doesn’t sound calmer. She’s scolding me and getting angrier.

“I’ve been away a long time, Willa. Explain what I’ve done wrong. I only want to ease you.”

“Sit!” she orders, pointing to the bed. In my mind, WarDog immediately complies and sits, urging me to do likewise.