She hovers behind me. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I bark and repeat in a softened tone. “No. You’re perfect. I just-it’s been a long day.”
“Of course.” She dusts her hands on her dress. “Just…let me know what you need me to do.” She scoots off, bustling around the kitchen. I try to go back to preparing food, but I still have the scent of her in my nose, the taste of her on my tongue. I pounced on her as soon as she walked through the door, but she didn’t protest. I kissed her and she let me, as if I was just taking my due. I grit my teeth. Would she be so willing to offer her charms to the conquering victor?
I gotta get my head straight and let her know where she stands. Whatever we feel for each other, whatever we’re heading towards, it can’t last.
The thought makes me want to howl.
“Bags, Kit. Go unpack,” I order her. Tuned into her as I am, I listen to the bags rustle and wait until her breath catches before turning.
She’s holding a big sketch pad.
“Is this for me?”
“I’m not much of an artist. Anyway, I told you I’d get it.”
“You didn’t have to, but thank you.”
“No problem.” I dump everything into a crockpot and turn it on low. “We have some time before dinner. Make yourself at home.”
I stomp to the bath to clean up. Strip off my shirt and examine myself in the dingy mirror. Fucking wolves got a few shots in, but the bruises are almost gone. The cats’ scratches have all but disappeared. Only a few red tears where they got me with their claws. I’m not surprised they tipped their nails in something that would delay shifter healing.
The door creaks open and Jordy stands there, eyes round as she surveys my bare chest.
“You’re all healed up,” she says, coming and touching my back. Her fingers dance over my skin, light and gentle. I still and she must take it as a sign of encouragement because she strokes both hands down the expanse of muscle then wraps her arms around my middle and presses her body into mine. Her breasts brush my back as she hugs me. Fates.
She has no idea how close I am to whirling around and pouncing, wrenching her legs open and pounding my cock into her sweet little cunt until she’s screaming my name.
I take a deep, steadying breath. “Course I’m healed,” I tell her gruffly. “Just took some punches.”
“And scratches and bites,” she says, a hint of chastising in her tone. I turn and cradle her face. “You don’t like me fighting, Kit?”
Biting her lip she shakes her head.
I drop a kiss onto her forehead, right where the reddish hair meets freckled skin. “Better get used to it, ’cause I’m a fighter. It’s who I am.”
“I know,” her voice is muffled against my bare chest. Her fingers slide over my pect, tracing a raised mark. “You have all these scars.”
“You should see the other guy.”
She doesn’t crack a smile. “How did you get these? Not fighting shifters.”
“No.”
She frowns up at me. Her fingers still swirl over my scar, muddling my thoughts. A potent torture I can’t resist. A few more minutes, and I’ll spill my guts for a chance to get her in my bed. Gotta say something, get her off this dangerous subject.
“Did you ask Augustine so many questions?”
Her little body stiffens. Fates, why did I bring that leech up? Jordy starts to pull away and I haul her back against me.
“Hey, I didn’t mean it.”
“You know I didn’t,” she says shakily. “That was not the relationship we had. He was my master. I had to obey.”
“Jordy, I’m sorry.”
Angling her head, she eyes me with her hair half obscuring her face. “You’re not my master.”
“No, I’m not.” I bite back anything else I might add. I don’t want to be her master. Do I?
She’s frowning thoughtfully, her narrowed eyes flicking up and down my body. Sizing me up, weighing me. I get the feeling she sees every part of me. For the first time in my life, I’m not proud of who I am.
Even if I wanted to own her, she shouldn’t allow it. I don’t measure up.
“Jordy…” her name is sweet on my tongue. “I’m not a good man.”
Her frown deepens.
“I’ve… done things. It’s not that I’m not proud of them, it’s just that what I am, what I do, it doesn’t fit in the normal world. The world you live in. The world you deserve.” Fates, I’m not explaining this right. “I’m not like normal guys.”
Understanding lights her eyes. “I don’t want normal.”
I sigh hard enough to blow her hair back. My hand finds her face. She closes her eyes. There’s a picture, my tattooed and fight roughed hands on either side of her sweet freckled cheeks. She’s so perfect and innocent. My skin looks dirty against hers. I don’t want to touch her. I don’t want to ruin what she is.
But I will. If she stays.
“I should send you away.”
“Where would you send me?”
“Somewhere safe,” I mutter against her hair. “Somewhere far away…from me.”
“I don’t want to go.” Her hand seeks my cheek. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here. With you.”
“You can’t know that. You don’t know what I’ve done. What I plan to do….”
She turns and draws the dress over her head, turning a little. I stand stunned as she lets the clothing drop to the floor and smiles at me over her shoulder. Her hips sway, and all the blood rushes out of my head, going straight to my dick.
“Well?” She pauses in the doorway of my bedroom. “Are you coming or not?”