How had other women treated him?

I kissed his mouth, then his neck, and worked my way down his body until I reached his hips and thighs. In the places that his pants concealed, Wheeler had scars that he hadn’t inked up with tattoos. Places maybe he thought no one would ever look again, or maybe he turned all his women away from him so they wouldn’t notice.

I noticed. I kissed each scar from the length of his thigh all the way to the one above his groin. He buried his hands in my hair, closing his eyes and thrusting his hips with need. I wanted to weep for what I saw—how he had taken such abuse—but I refused to let him think it mattered. My hands slid up and down the smooth skin on his lower abs, across his waist, and to his thighs.

Wheeler clocked my every move, and it made me self-conscious about concealing my reaction when I saw what else he’d been hiding from me.

Wheeler wasn’t just endowed—he was blessed. That kind of blessing made a woman hesitate.

“Sure you’re a wolf and not a stallion?” I teased. “Because you’re hung like a—”

Wheeler snatched my wrists and pulled me on top so I was straddling him. “Are you going to show me your teeth?”

I flashed a smile, showing him my pearly whites.

Wheeler rubbed my thighs, and no smile touched his lips. “Not those. I want you to shift.”

“Don’t be absurd. I’ll kill you!”

He licked his bottom lip, fingers exploring my backside. “I can’t be with you unless you show me your panther.”

“Darling, this isn’t necessary. You’ve already seen my panther.”

His hands continued stroking me. “Not like this. Not when I’m vulnerable.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Naya… I thought we were going to be open with each other.”

I trembled, despite the fact he’d somehow managed to walk my panther into the Weston home. My panther might attack him if frightened, and I didn’t know how much I’d be able to control her reaction. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He swallowed thickly and put his arms beside his head. “I need to know.”

“Know what?” I asked, stroking his stomach with the tips of my fingers.

“If the reason I don’t fear you is because I want to die, or because of something else.”

There it was. Wheeler’s ability to walk my animal into the house had raised a deep-seated fear that maybe after all these years, he still didn’t feel worthy enough to live.

“Please,” he whispered.

Why did this have to be so difficult? I had to trust my panther not to hurt a man who meant something to me. I also had to trust that this man wouldn’t kill my panther if something went wrong.

I moved off him and sat down by his legs. “Okay. But don’t make any sudden movements, and don’t look her in the eyes.”

His Adam’s apple undulated as he swallowed hard and watched me. Am I really doing this? I must be crazy, I thought to myself.