Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

“Yeah. Okay.” He stumbled back, and my gaze snapped to his long muscular legs. Then back to his torso, because the scars that littered it were beautiful. Wolves didn’t have scars. We healed far too quickly for that. They were as foreign as his culture was. “No more…whatever this is. Okay?”

I woofed in ascent, and Jeffrey shook his head again, laughing to himself. “What the fuck? You give a dog a cheeseburger, and he thinks he owns the place.”

I did own him.

But I didn’t say that.

I couldn’t.

Because I couldn’t keep him.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

I had never hated being an alpha more than I did in that moment.

Because Dad was right.

He told me the hunger would eat me alive, and I was going to let it.

“I’m starting to think you’re stalking me.” My voice was a little hoarse, as I’d just finished my fifteen-minute set at the club in Ridgefield. It was open mic night again. Though I’d been attending religiously, tonight was my first time actually performing.

It felt weird to see Mutt in his humanskin. But right too. He looked guilty, curled in on himself like he hadn’t meant to get caught—a naughty puppy—and my heart did a weird flip-flop thing in my chest.

As much as I liked his furry form—and I did—there was just something about all that muscle and those damn blue eyes that made me weak.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” I asked, voice low and soft. Unable to help myself, I took him in. All six-foot-six of his gorgeous, wide form. He filled out his height in a lovely way, all long thick thighs, broad shoulders, and full pecs.

I’d never seen anything like Mutt’s chest—and though it was new and foreign, it was exciting too. Everything about him was exciting. I’d played our nights we’d spent together with him in this form over and over in my head—convinced I had made up the raw chemistry that buzzed electric between us.

But…I hadn’t.

Because all it took was one glance across the dance floor during my set tonight for my cock to perk up and all the hair on my body to stand on end. Like Mutt’s heady gaze had a direct connection to my nerve endings, and just looking him in the eyes was enough to make heat pool low in my belly.

Still though, the fact that Mutt was here was more than a little…obvious, right?

I’d only been partially joking about the stalking thing—but his reaction had solidified the truth.

He really was following me. In dog form. In human form. All the fucking time.

You will be safe.

Mutt took his promise pretty fucking seriously. Almost obsessively so.

That should’ve freaked me out.

But it didn’t.

I knew what it felt like when someone was going to hurt me. I’d been manipulated enough times that I could recognize the signs. And Mutt had…none of those. I didn’t think he had a single manipulative bone in his entire body. That was part of what attracted me to him in the first place.

Mutt was a good person. Not very sneaky, but a good person all the same. I could tell he felt bad about lying to me, and that made all the difference.

In fact, right now, he looked like he was two seconds from bolting.

And I didn’t want him to.

“You…” I reached out, looping my fingers around his wrist. My guitar hung loose in my other hand, easy as though it was a second limb. “Did you like the music?” I hadn’t meant to ask that. I’d meant to ask him if he wanted to come home with me. Because that first time had been fire—and the second had felt like a balm on my weary soul. And I’d had a month of his fur, but not his dick, and I was kinda starved by this point—not that he knew that.

He made me feel like…me?