that. Do you have a tail?”
Her fascination disturbed him on a level he couldn’t quite measure. Such a question made him angry, and a little humiliated. But why he felt that way went back to being ousted from the pack because he was part faery. Too many bad memories.
“I don’t have a tail. In my were shape. Were means man. Werewolf means half man, half wolf. Like you saw the other night. Though I didn’t shift completely. If so, my clothes would have split and fallen off and...you would have known for certain you’d seen a werewolf.”
“Your clothes fall off? Is it like an Incredible Hulk thing?”
“Incredible...?” Ry couldn’t help a chuckle. “What’s with you and the superheroes?”
She shrugged. “I like comic-book heroes. Anything wrong with that?”
“Nothing at all. Not like the Hulk. When I shift to werewolf my body grows a little taller, more muscular and hairy, and my head takes on wolf shape, as do my legs and feet and hands. I’m mostly man but a lot of wolf.”
“And you’re naked?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Sorry, I like to have all the details. Helps me to picture it better. And then you run around naked in the city?”
“I never shift to werewolf in the city. Not completely, anyway. It would be foolish and asking for trouble. We of the paranormal ilk know the only way we can survive in the mortal realm is to keep our truths hidden.”
“Wow, I suppose so. That’s got to be tough. Trying to survive in a world that doesn’t believe in you. And if they did, they’d think you’re a monster. You’re not a monster, are you?”
“Do I look like a monster?”
“Not now you don’t.” But she wasn’t completely on board with believing otherwise, he suspected.
“I’m not a monster, Indi.” He clasped her hand and rubbed the back of it along his cheek. She smelled so good. And he didn’t scent fear in her. Interesting. “I am a man first and foremost, who happens to have a proclivity for nature and running about as a wolf, especially on the night of the full moon. I also shift to wolf shape, which is exactly the creature you know as a wolf.”
“Four legs and a howl?”
He nodded.
“That’s so interesting. Do you have wolf friends?”
Despite the odd and uncomfortable questions, at the very least, Ry could be thankful she was open and not screaming right now. “Wolf friends? You mean who I run about with in the forest?”
She nodded.
“Yes. And no. Most werewolves live in packs. I haven’t been in one for a while.” Not by choice, either. “When I shift I do it alone. I own some property a couple hours out of Paris that is wooded and has a lot of acreage. If I encounter another of my species while shifted, we might have a tussle or just avoid each other. We’re protective of our property.”
“Alpha?”
“Yes, but I’m considered a lone wolf after leaving my pack.”
“Why did you leave?”
“That’s not something I want to get in to right now.” He pulled up her hand again and this time kissed the knuckles. “Any more questions?”
“Well, tons! I mean, how does the whole faery thing work in? If you don’t have wings? You can’t fly?”
“Can’t fly. Don’t have the desire to fly. I have a faery sigil on my hip that allows me some weak faery magic and the sight that I’ve already explained to you. And I do dust when I come.”
“You what?”
Ry smirked. That was always an interesting one to explain. And it only happened with a forceful orgasm. Something he tried to avoid when with women. Otherwise, how to explain the sudden glitter explosion? The jacking off when he got home thing was getting stale, though.
“When faeries have sex,” he explained, “they put out dust when they orgasm. I, uh, do that.”
Indi’s jaw dropped open, so he pushed it closed and then she caught his hand with hers, thumbing the side of his hand as she stared at it.
“A werewolf,” she said in that awe-filled voice. “Who would have thought? You’re not even Batman, you’re Wolfman.”
“I don’t like that term. Just call me Ry.”
“Ry. Ryland James. The billionaire werewolf who fights crime. What compelled you, a werewolf, to fight the bad faeries?”
“As I’ve explained, they are stealing human children. Isn’t that reason enough to want to stand up and make it stop?”
“You’re amazing. So selfless. And your philanthropy. You’re quite the package, Ry.”
And his own package was starting to harden again. She hadn’t dropped his hand, and each time she stroked her thumb over his skin he grew a little harder. He’d love to kiss her until she begged him to strip her bare and have sex with her on the sofa. But she might like that. And he was in a weird place. A little freaked that he’d spilled all to her.
Could he trust his instincts right now?
“You probably need to give what I’ve told you a good think,” he mused.
Pulling out of her grasp, he tapped her lips and pondered another kiss. That was the easy way out. Now was no time to press the easy button.
“I need to repeat how important it is to keep this information about me quiet,” he said. “If the paparazzi and tabloids ever got wind of this—”
“Oh, never. I promise.” She made an X-ing motion over her chest. “I swear to you. I won’t tell.”
He could almost believe her. “The photographers for those trashy rags have their ways. They find out I have a new friend? They’ll go after you.”
“Why?”
“Those bastards are always trying to dig up something on me. Can’t accept that I don’t do interviews and that there is nothing to tell. Except that there is a lot to tell. Which is why I avoid the press like the plague.”
“And that only makes them go after you all the more?”
“Exactly. I’d rather battle hundreds of collectors than face down one hungry tabloid reporter. They’re ruthless.”
“I’ve seen that. I myself am a socialite.” She beamed, but it wasn’t one of those entitled poses, but was rather sweet actually. “I attend a lot of balls and social events. I’ve never been in the spotlight like a celebrity, but I do understand. You can trust me, Ry. We don’t know each other that well, but we’ve been through something together. And... I want to know you better.”
“I’d like
