Midnight Howler’s Obsession

"Tonight has to work."

I gave myself a pep talk in the mirror. My fingers traced the expensive lace lingerie. Black. Sheer. Skin-tight. I looked so hot it made my own mouth go dry.

Ryder had been on a business trip for three days. He was coming home tonight.

Three days apart. Long enough to make any normal man starved for his wife.

I slipped on his oversized white dress shirt. I left it unbuttoned. The black lace peeked through the white cotton.

The shirt still smelled like him. It mixed with my own scent to create a deadly temptation.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. I posed on the master bed. My heart pounded.

This time, it would definitely work.

The door pushed open. Ryder walked in, fresh from the shower. A towel hung loosely low on his hips.

Damn. His body was a sin. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. His abs looked carved from stone. His V-line disappeared right under the white towel. A man built like this had to be aggressively dominant in bed.

But we’d been married for six months, and his body was still completely off-limits to me.

"Avery." He froze, his eyes locking on me. "What are you doing in my room?"

I sat up. The shirt fell open, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Waiting for my husband." I dropped my voice low and sultry. "I missed you."

His eyes caught fire. He dragged his gaze over my body. His pupils blew wide open.

I heard his breathing turn ragged. His chest heaved.

Then he snapped his eyes away. His Adam's apple bobbed hard.

"You should go back to your room." He tried to sound cold, but his voice shook.

"Why?" My bare feet stepped on the plush rug. I backed him into a corner. "I'm your wife."

I reached out to hug him. Every muscle in his body instantly locked up.

But in the dim light, I saw a dark flush spread across his usually pale face.

"Then... stay here tonight." His voice was gravelly.

My heart raced. My blood ran hot. Blushing, I crawled onto the bed. He laid down next to me, stiff as a board.

I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

He let out a low growl and finally kissed me back.

He kissed me deep.

It felt desperate, like he wanted to devour me whole.

I dragged his hand down my body. His palm was burning hot. His fingers were actually trembling.

I could feel his arousal through the fabric. He was huge, dangerous, and ready to snap.

His lips trailed down my neck. His sharp teeth lightly scraped over my pulse point. Shivers tore through me. I was melting under his touch.

I thought he was finally going to take me. But then he jerked up.

"No." He panted hard and reached out with his right hand. He refused to look at me. "I can help you."

Not this again. Even now, aching for me, he would only offer his fingers.

My heart turned to ice.

"Ryder Sterling!" I shot off the bed, tears stinging my eyes. "Is it impossible for you to want me?!"

I grabbed a pillow and smashed it into him. "There are plenty of men on the West Coast! Anyone is better than you! I can replace you in a heartbeat, you hear me?!"

I slammed the door behind me. I left him sitting alone on the edge of the bed. He looked like a trapped beast in a cage.

My hands shook on the steering wheel. I didn't get it. Why did I always act so desperate? He didn't even dare to touch me for more than a minute!

An hour later, I sat on the couch in my dog-training studio. I was downing whiskey with my best friend, Chloe.

"He rejected you again?" Chloe handed me a tissue.

"Not rejected." I threw back the liquor. It burned my throat. "Humiliated."

"Maybe he has trauma? Or maybe he's gay?"

"No way." I smiled bitterly. "He was supposed to marry my sister, but she ran. I fell for him at first sight, so I took her place. I got the ring, but I can't get the man."

I picked up a golden retriever puppy from the table. It barked and squirmed, scratching red marks on my neck.

"Avery! You're drunk." Chloe snatched the puppy away.

I touched the scratches on my neck. I gave a pathetic laugh. "At least this dog actually touches me."

I went back to the mansion the next afternoon. A killer hangover pounded in my head.

The second I walked into the foyer, I saw Ryder in the living room.

He clearly hadn't slept at all. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. The air was thick with a heavy, suffocating, primal scent.

His pupils shrank the moment he saw me. A dark, feral gleam flashed in his black eyes. He locked onto the red scratches on my neck.

He stalked toward me. His towering frame radiated a possessiveness that almost drowned me.

"Who did that?" His voice was terrifyingly low.

I forced a smile and walked past him. I didn't want to explain. "I'm exhausted. Was up all night. I need sleep."

"Avery." He grabbed my wrist. His grip was shockingly strong.

"Next time you stay out all night," he gritted out, word by word, "you tell me."

I sneered and yanked my hand back. "Why? Would you even care?"

I marched upstairs without looking back. Behind me, I heard the sharp crack of a glass shattering in his bare hand.

But I didn't care anymore. I was ending this. I was done with having a husband who was just for show.