An Excerpt from Vivi Anna's Hungry Like the Wolf Olivia had known the moment Garrick stepped into the club. She'd felt him as he ascended the steep metal stairs and rounded the room on the walkway. She didn't have to look up to know he was there. She could feel his heat rubbing up against her, and the sultry way he smelled -- like fresh-cut grass in the heat of the summer -- sent delicious shivers down her spine. Always she felt his presence, like a tingling over her skin and a heated ball of lava in her belly. She watched him now, and it took more strength than she'd expected to keep from jumping over to him and nestling into his lap. His hair was a little longer, wilder even, but just as sexy as before. His clothes still fit snugly over his powerful frame, but the bulge under his jeans caused her eyebrows to lift. Maybe he was feeling her, too. Maybe he still remembered what they felt like when together. The last time she'd seen him, he was standing beside his back porch, covered in blood, with a dead man at his feet. He'd yelled at her then. Told her to go and never come back, even though he'd known she would need him. And when the full moon had finally arrived, he had not been there to comfort her. He'd abandoned her at a time when she'd needed him the most. When the change had overwhelmed her, she had been alone. Alone to try to understand and deal with the excruciating pain. Alone to hunt, when she had no clue how to kill. It had been the most unpleasant and grueling time of her life, and he had never come to aid her, even when she'd called out to him in the middle of the night. She hated him for that. Fisher chuckled and snuggled his hand against her ass. “I see you know each other.” Olivia wanted to flinch from the intimate contact, but wouldn't, not in front of Garrick. She wanted to see if it bothered him, if he still had feelings for her. She needed to know for sure, so she could use them for her own purposes. Garrick glanced down at Fisher's hand. It was brief, but she saw his pupils dilate in anger. “Yes, we did once,” Olivia purred, eyes on Garrick. Garrick smirked and shook his head. “Did we? I don't remember.” The barb hurt, but she pushed down her feelings and continued to stare at him. He looked cool and unruffled, but she could see how his jaw clenched. She'd seen that look of concentration before, when he had ripped off her shirt and taken her on his living room floor nineteen months ago. She couldn't sit there any longer, without either ripping his clothes off or ripping his eyes out. She'd be damned before she let Garrick see her bristling. She'd shed her tears for him. Tears of loss and tears of anger. She wouldn't give him any more. He'd already taken too much. Smirking, Olivia turned and leaned down to press her lips to Fisher's mouth. He deepened the kiss as his hand squeezed her ass. She pulled back and ran her hand through Fisher's hair. Turning back to Garrick, she stood up. “I'm going to dance, love. There's nothing to interest me here.” Not looking at Garrick, Olivia walked back to the stairs and descended into the gyrating crowd.   Garrick tried not to watch her go. It was difficult, as her delicious spicy scent enveloped him, crushing him in its sensual grip. The jeans she wore accentuated her incredible ass, and as she swayed past his chair, he couldn't help but peek. It had been incredible before, but now the sight of her perfectly round bottom nearly did him in. He could feel his cock grow hard with desire. The woman was lust personified, and it took everything he had to stay in his chair. He ground his teeth and swallowed down the saliva pooling in his mouth. In his mind, all he could envision was Olivia straddling his lap, his cock deep inside her hot, wet cunt, and his hands filled with her perfect pert breasts. © Vivi Anna, August 2005 All Rights Reserved