The spark in her gaze should have warned him away. She was agitated and restless. A dangerous combination.
“No?” Ellen asked. “I didn’t think so.”
She could goad all she wanted. He wouldn’t take the bait.
Her smile grew.
Dammit. He stood, carrying his plate into the kitchen. “We can work out. I’ll change and meet you in the gym.”
Ellen was laughing when she left the kitchen.
“What the fuck, man?” Dante asked. “You know she doesn’t fight fair.”
“We’re working out, not fighting,” he answered.
“Right.” They snorted in unison.
He ignored the back-and-forth between Anders and Dante. He didn’t know why the hell had he just agreed to this. Maybe it was the taunt in her eyes, daring him? Maybe he was just as wound up as she was? Maybe he enjoyed her company? Maybe he was an idiot.
Chapter Five
The gym was eighty degrees. Ellen wasn’t a fan, but the pack liked sweating it out. A phrase she had yet to understand. There was so much she still didn’t understand about this pack. Namely, why they acted like being a wolf was wrong. It was a gift, not a curse. And they’d be that much more powerful when they realized it.
That Hollis thought he could cure them was…infuriating.
She rolled her neck, stretched her arms over her head, and bent low to touch her toes. The tug and burn of her muscles felt good. So did slamming her fists into the punching bag that hung from the ceiling. It wasn’t the same as striking flesh. No, hitting a body was different. The impact absorption was all wrong. But it would have to do. For now. Over and over, she kept up a steady rhythm until her blood hummed and her skin warmed.
“Don’t need me after all,” Hollis said from behind her.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and turned to face him. That was her first mistake. Hollis, pressed and starched and buttoned-up, was the norm. Today had been anything but normal. First the white undershirt, now this. His gray wicking T-shirt stretched to accommodate the impressive expanse of his chest and arms. His thighs, equally impressive, were hidden beneath long black running pants. Even his athletic shoes were appealing.
Not appealing. Sexy.
Logically, she knew her reaction had nothing to do with Hollis. No, he was simply the catalyst for the frustration and unspent aggression piling up from the course of the day. But that didn’t do much to ease the very real thrum and throb building within her.
He waited, arms crossed over his chest, for her answer.
“I can find a use for you,” she murmured, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Her mind was imagining all sorts of uses.
A slight furrow formed between his copper brows. “Such as.”
She bit, hard, into her lip. So many words threatened to spill out. “Warm up, first?” He argued he had no wolf, but Ellen sensed its presence, just beneath the surface. His wolf needed an outlet. This should work for both of them. “Up for sparring?”
“You promise not to kill me?” His smile, oh, his smile.
“I’ll make no such promise.” She turned back to the punching bag, so he didn’t realize she was staring. Her knuckles throbbed from the power she packed into her punch.
She would not be ruled by her basic instincts. If Cyrus had taught her nothing else, he’d taught her control. No matter what he’d done to her, how he’d tormented her, she’d learned to box up her reactions. And now, when her mind was buzzing with rather disturbing and arousing images of Hollis, there was so much to box up.
“Mal and Olivia,” Hollis said. “That normal?”
She gritted her teeth. “Only if one partner is an ass.” And yet, watching Mal come apart in front of his pack had made him infinitely more understandable. He had been through hell at the hands of the Others. That was why he was so protective of Olivia. He couldn’t bear thinking about what they’d do if they ever captured her.
“He is,” Hollis agreed. “But he is loyal.”
She nodded. “A good trait for a wolf.” She pounded the bag again, rapid jabs and punches. “Their offspring will be well-balanced. Insightful and fierce.”
“Offspring?” Hollis groaned. “Mal’s still buying condoms in bulk.”