Hunting Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #3 by J.K. Harper Read Free Book Online Page A

her spine. She felt her breath shorten, becoming a little faster.
    The look on Caleb's face was nakedly appreciative, curious, and suddenly so engulfing she didn't know what else to do but open her mouth and say something, anything, to escape the pressure she felt from her rousing wolf, her fizzy-feeling body, and Caleb's relentless look.
    “I'd like another one. Drink? I seem to have finished mine.” She tapped the straw against the empty glass in front of her, now filled only with ices cubes on top of the dregs of faintly pinkish liquid. She wasn't sure how it had gone down so fast—hadn't it just been set in front of her moments ago?
    Now he still stared at her, but his eyebrows lifted at her words, and the intense connection between them broke.
    “Sure,” he said, and flagged down the waitress.
    “You're wrong, you know,” she said in a conversational tone. Keep it casual. Change direction away from the sudden connection between them. Because that was crazy. “About the rogues, I mean.”
    “I am not wrong about the rogues.” His voice shot out, although its heat wasn't directed at her. His sensitive male pride had been wounded. That seemed to happen a lot with males. Especially the markedly insensitive ones.
    “Oh, but you are,” she said. “I know a lot about rogues, too.” She tapped a finger against her own chest. “Pack historian, remember?”
    “Hmm,” was all he said. His gaze had plummeted to her chest when she tapped at it, then quickly rose back to her face.
    The magnetic heat of his gaze zeroed in on her, making her stumble over her own thoughts for a second. Had Caleb Bardou just checked her out? The tightness in her throat rose up as it did when she was flustered. This definitely counted as a flustered moment. Thankfully, another pink froufy drink arrived. Rielle touched her fingers to the cold surface of the glass, willing to cooling refreshment to draw up into her very warm body. Something about this whole situation made her feel a little tingly. Wisely, she waited before just downing the whole thing in one ridiculous gulp. Even though shifters took a longer time than humans to get drunk, since Rielle already felt a bit tipsy for some reason, she'd better be smart. She put the straw into her mouth and slowly swallowed down some cold liquid ease, praying she wouldn't just squeak or something when her mouth finally worked again.
    Oddly enough, Caleb's eyes widened when she began sucking on the straw. He looked away hastily. A silence held them for a long moment until her throat eased up enough she thought she could safely get out words again.
    She focused on what seemed to be the safer topic than questioning the possibility Caleb was getting as flustered by her presence as she was by his. “Look,” she said, forcing herself to fall into the teaching cadence she always adopted when discussing any pack history. “Rogues don't like rules, per se. They don't want to be restricted or constricted by any fully-fledged pack. Any wolf that has rogue tendencies is not cut out for traditional pack life. They're just too independent, in a way.”
    “Too independent to want real leadership. To understand that our way of life is the only way of life for us.” Caleb's tone snapped out again, but his voice still managed to wrap itself around Rielle's senses. Why did he have to sound so darned male? How come she'd never really paid attention to him before?
    He is all male wolf, her own wolf thought strongly into her head, jolting Rielle with its clarity and intensity. Her wolf had said so little for months.
    Because I haven't let her, she thought guiltily. Suddenly even more unsettled, she hurried on. “Independent, yes. But pack life doesn't have to be the only way of life for us.”
    “What the—Rielle.” Now his tone was definitely perturbed. “That's crazy talk. Maybe you read too much history.” His gaze caught hers in challenge.
    That managed to cool her right back down. Right back down into