Seducing My Werewolf Hockey Captain

Chapter 8: Fanny's games

~ Yates ~

I arrived at Fanny's place in record time, my heart still pounding, Jack still restless under my skin.

The house was completely dark.

"Fanny?" I called out, pushing through the front door.

No answer.

Then the lights went off entirely and soft music started playing from somewhere inside. I stopped moving, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, and watched as Fanny's silhouette appeared at the top of the stairs.

She was dancing.

Slowly, deliberately, moving down the stairs towards me with that practiced grace she had perfected over years of cheerleading. The music was something slow and sensual — all bass and breathless vocals — and I realized immediately what this was.

One of Fanny's games.

She did not need help. She had never needed help. She just wanted my attention.

She was wearing something sheer and dark that caught what little light filtered through the windows. The fabric moved with her body as she descended, each step deliberate, her hips swaying in time with the music. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders and her eyes were locked on mine with an intensity that would have had my full attention any other night.

Should have had my full attention.

But Jack was still muttering in the back of my mind, still restless, still focused on something — someone — else entirely.

I pushed the thought away and smiled anyway because this was familiar and comfortable and exactly the kind of distraction I needed after the chaos of the last hour.

Fanny reached me and her hands went to my chest, fingers sliding up to my shoulders, and then she kissed me. Deeply, hungrily, her body pressing against mine in a way that was very deliberate and very Fanny. She tasted like cherry lip gloss and expensive wine and I kissed her back the way I always did, letting my hands settle on her waist.

"Where have you been?" she asked against my lips, her voice low and slightly breathless.

I opened my mouth to answer but she pulled back suddenly and sniffed.

Actually sniffed the air around me, her nose wrinkling slightly, her expression shifting from playful to confused.

"Why do you smell… strange?"

My entire body went still.

She sniffed again, leaning closer, her hands still on my shoulders but her grip tightening. Her eyes narrowed as she processed what she was smelling, and then her whole face changed. The confusion turned to recognition and the recognition turned to anger so fast I barely had time to process it.

She pulled away completely, taking three steps back.

"You were with that human?" Her voice went sharp and loud, all the sultry playfulness evaporating instantly. "You were with her?"

"Fanny—"

"Do not 'Fanny' me!" She started pacing, her hands gesturing wildly, her voice rising with every word. "I knew it. I knew she was up to something. Trying to seduce you with her stupid red dress and her stupid human smell and her stupid—"

"Fanny, nothing happened."

"I do not care!" She spun to face me, her eyes flashing amber for just a second before she forced them back to brown. "She is trying to take you from me and I will not let that happen. I will trample her. I will make a ruin of her. She has no idea who she is messing with."

The possessiveness in her voice should have been flattering. It should have made me feel wanted, secure in our relationship.

Instead it just made me tired.

"Fanny." I crossed the space between us in two strides and took her face in both hands, forcing her to look at me. "I love you. She does not matter. She is just a human who lives next door. That is all."

If only Fanny knew that Jack had picked Gwen as his mate.

If only she knew that every word I was saying right now was a lie I was telling myself as much as her.

Fanny searched my face for a long moment, her breathing still heavy from anger, her eyes flickering between brown and amber like she could not quite control them.

I kept my expression steady and certain because I had been lying to people my entire life and I was very, very good at it.

Finally, she relaxed.

Her shoulders dropped and her hands came up to cover mine where they still held her face.

"Promise me," she said quietly. Vulnerable in a way Fanny rarely was. "Promise me she means nothing."

"I promise."

She kissed me again, softer this time, almost tentative, and I kissed her back because that was what you did when your girlfriend needed reassurance. My hands slid from her face to her waist and she melted against me, all the anger draining out of her body.

The kiss deepened.

Her hands were on my chest again, then sliding up to my neck, fingers threading through my hair. She pressed closer and I pulled her in, letting my hands roam the way they always did — down her sides, over her hips, to the small of her back.

She made a small sound against my mouth and pulled me towards the stairs.

We stumbled up them together, still kissing, her hands pulling at my shirt, my hands finding the hem of that sheer thing she was wearing. We made it to her bedroom and she pushed me down onto the bed and climbed on top of me, straddling my hips, her hair falling around us like a curtain.

"I love you," she whispered, her hands on either side of my face, her eyes searching mine.

"I love you too," I said back automatically.

She kissed me again and her hands went to the buttons of my shirt, working them open one by one while I let my hands explore the familiar territory of her body. The curve of her waist, the smooth skin of her thighs, the dip of her spine.

This was familiar. Safe. Easy.

This was what I knew.

She got my shirt off and her mouth moved to my neck, trailing kisses down to my collarbone, her hands working at my belt. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into it, into the warmth of her skin against mine, into the feeling of being wanted.

But then Jack stirred.

And suddenly all I could think about was the way Gwen had felt pressed against my chest when I caught her. The warmth of her body. The softness of her curves. The way her eyes had gone wide when she looked at me.

The electric shock that had run through my hand when I touched her face.

The way she had smelled — not like cherry lip gloss and expensive wine, but like something softer, warmer, something that made Jack go absolutely feral with want.

'Mate,' he whispered again, insistent and certain.

No.

I opened my eyes and focused on Fanny. On the way she was looking at me with complete trust and desire. On the way her body moved against mine. On the fact that this was my girlfriend and I loved her and I was not going to let some confused wolf instinct ruin what we had.

I flipped us over, pinning her beneath me, and kissed her harder, trying to drown out Jack's voice with the taste of her mouth. My hands found the hem of her dress and pulled it up and over her head and she arched into me with a satisfied sigh.

Her skin was warm under my hands. Familiar in every way.

But when I closed my eyes to kiss down her neck, all I saw was dark hair and wide eyes and curves that fit against me like they were meant to be there.

Damn it.