She dropped a big, fat yellow highlighter and a blue pen in the middle of her book and closed it. He realized she held a textbook. He looked at her face, praying she wasn’t some twenty-year-old. He liked his women a little older. A little more experienced.

No. This wasn’t some boring, naïve kid who expected him to make all the decisions. He really knew it when she swung those long legs out of the chair and stood up. Like most wolf females, she was tall and powerfully built. At least six feet with strong shoulders and arms. No model thinness for this female. She had a body that could definitely handle a rough and tumble time in bed and leave a man desperate for more.

She was what his grandfather would have called a “tall drink of water.” Those long legs encased in worn jeans and her T-shirt washed so many times it wouldn’t take much but one little pull to rip it completely off her body.

She ambled over to him—and that’s what it was, an amble—until she reached the bed. Her body close to his, she touched the back of her hand to his forehead.

“Good Lord.” With a worried frown, she put one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his cheek. Such cool, soft hands. “Oh, you poor baby. You are on fire.”

She had no idea.

“I better get the doc.” She took a step away from him, but he grabbed hold of her arm.

“What’s the matter, darlin’? Worried I won’t come back?” She smiled and it almost ripped his guts out. He’d never seen anything prettier. “Well don’t you let it bother you one bit. I’ll be right outside talking to the doc.” Her hand stroked his cheek and he briefly closed his eyes, nuzzling her hand and purring.

“Hhhhmm. That fever must be bad if you’re making sounds I never heard before. The only sounds I usually hear from you cats are roaring and hissing. I better get the doc.” Again she tried to pull away, and Brendon wasn’t having it.

With one good yank, he dragged her onto his lap.

“Hey, hey, darlin’! Now wait a second.”

Brendon pulled her around so she straddled his waist, her generous tits right in his face. To keep her where she was, he gripped her ass and pulled her hard against his growing-by-the-second erection.

“Look, hoss, I don’t want to hurt you…”

He growled, kind of wanting her to hurt him. Within reason, of course.

“…but I will if you don’t get those big cat paws off my ass.”

Ignoring her, Brendon buried his face between her breasts and breathed deep. Wow, she smelled so damn good.

“You need to stop that. I know you’re sick and all but—”

He nuzzled one nipple then the other.

“Stop that!”

“Stay with me,” he groaned against her breast, his voice sounding more animal than human.

“I am with you, and if you’d just let me go—”

“Fuck me.”

“Okay. That’s it.”

Strong hands slapped against his shoulders and she pushed herself away from him as much as she could. He still had her around the waist, but her tits were suddenly out of his reach. He didn’t like that one bit.

“You need to get control of yourself, hoss. Right now.”

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“Kiss me and I’ll let you go.” For the moment, anyway.

Even though her hands were strong against his shoulders, she didn’t give the immediate “no” he would expect.

“I promise,” he persisted. “Just kiss me.”

She pushed away from him again, testing his strength. He held on tighter, not willing to release her. If she thought the fever would make him weak, she was very much mistaken. Instead, it had only made him dangerously strong.

“Dammit.” She let out an exasperated rush of breath. “All right. Fine. But make it quick.”

Reluctantly releasing her ass, Brendon slid his hands up until they braced against her back. He pulled her forward and he leaned in, those pretty eyes watching him, wary and a little bit curious.

Brendon brushed his lips against hers. A small, completely nonthreatening move. She didn’t do anything back. Merely stared at him. Since she didn’t try and rip his throat out, he came in for another pass, this time lingering a bit.

Still, she didn’t make any moves one way or the other.

Pulling her close to his body, Brendon closed his mouth over hers. Her hands remained on his shoulders, tense like the rest of her, ready to push him away at any moment. He licked her bottom lip, the tip of his tongue tracing a line between. Her hands tightened on his shoulders but instead of pulling him off, she gripped him tight and kissed him back.

And holy hell…what a kiss!

Rhonda Lee Reed, you are a whore!

Yup. She could hear her momma’s voice clear as a bell in her head. Telling her the same thing she told her when she found Ronnie in the backseat of Johnny Patterson’s Pinto with Ronnie’s favorite pair of red cowboy boots plastered to his roof.

And here she was again. Involving herself with the wrong kind of guy. Actually, the wrong species. Plus sick. The man had a horrible bout of fever.

He should be resting. He should be sipping fluids to keep his temperature down and moaning in agony. He should not have some stranger’s tongue down his throat.

So she needed to stop this. Now.

But damn if the man wasn’t an amazing kisser.

Ronnie should have known as soon as she looked into that gorgeous face the night before she was in trouble. Even bloody and broken from the beating he took, absolutely nothing could take away from his raw beauty. Sharp cheekbones and an almost muzzlelike nose did nothing but enhance the man’s sinfully full lips. Lips Ronnie had no problem imagining all over her body.