Isaac cried out in surprise at the sudden rush of feeling and arousal slamming into him like a freight train, eyes comically wide as his knees buckled. Slumping against the wall, he gazed up at the approaching figure, pleading with his eyes as he let out a pitiful little whimper.
Summer brushed her fingers over his forehead, meaning to check for fever, but the brush turned into a caress, stroking his hair away from his face. That dear, gorgeous, beloved face — she jerked her mind back, breathing hard. “I, I didn’t know werewolves went into heat.”
Isaac whimpered, lost and turned on, eagerly pushing his flushed face into her hand and then whining loudly in protest as the contact stopped. “M-me either…” He shivered then, teeth chattering together as he squirmed. “H-how do I m-make it stop?”
“Why are you asking me?” she protested, jerking her eyes up from where she was watching him writhe with gaping mouth. “All I know about werewolves I learned from you.” God, she wanted to lick the sweat from his skin, push him flat on the bed and stroke him until he howled. Swallowing hard, she backed up a step, but there wasn’t that far to go. “I think it might be contagious to me,” she said thickly.