Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge Book 1)(28)

She flashed him a bright white smile and ran the last steps, flung her  arms around him, and jumped. His clumsy girl nearly took them to the  ground, but Gentry was quick at recovering.

"God, you weigh a ton," he joked, pretending to drop her.

"Stop!" she exclaimed. "You'll give me a complex."

"About what?" he asked, gripping her ass with both hands and jiggling  it. This was making him want a round two at taking her from behind. "I  think your ass is my favorite part to grab. Your boobs are fucking tens  too, but this ass, Trouble. I want to bite it."

"Okay, never mind on the complex, I'm good, butt-man, and no biting because I want to survive."

"Not a break-the-skin nip, but a little … love bite."

"Let's make-out," she said with a naughty grin.

Gentry laughed and kissed the mango gloss off her lips. No one had ever  amused him like she did. She was playful in a way he'd never sensed in  anyone else. He could've stayed here all night, pressing her against the  rental car, lost in exploring her mouth and body, but after a few  minutes, Blaire began to shiver.

Gentry eased back and frowned. "Are you cold?"

"Well, yeah! It's freezing out here, and I'm not a werewolf."

"Oh." Being a human probably sucked. "Okay, we need to have a serious  discussion about saying that word in town. Werewolves aren't out to the  public, obviously, and hinting that they exist will get you-"

"Let me guess," she said sarcastically. "It'll get me killed." She  lowered to her feet, pitched to the side, righted herself as he chuckled  at her lack of grace, and then she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't  worry, Chaos. Your million secrets are safe with me. Although I did tell  my best friend you are an animal in the sack," she murmured, making her  way toward his truck, which was already turned on and warming up for  her. "I think it was the filthiest thing I've ever said to someone.  Ashlyn said she was proud of me for getting laid, but I couldn't bring  myself to tell her how much more it is that we're doing. Is it weird  that I want to keep what we're building to myself for a while?" she  asked, turning her pretty gaze on him at the passenger's side door.                       
       
           



       

"No, not weird. I like the thought of having you all to myself for a  bit, too. Well … I guess it's different because you've met all my family  now."

"And they don't approve."

"Does that bother you?" he asked, helping her into his truck.

"Heck yeah, it bothers me! My mom is going to love you, and Ashlyn will,  too, but your brothers will probably never accept me on account of my  human-ness and all. Which, by the way, is ridiculous and super  judgmental."

"So you're judging their judgmental-ness."

"Precisely," she said with a megawatt grin that left his heart stuttering in his chest.

The most beautiful woman in the entire world was sitting in the front  seat of his beater truck, smiling at him like he wasn't a monster, even  though she'd seen both sides of him.

"When you're thirty, I'll be thirty-four," she said out of the blue as he pulled out of the parking lot between the cabins.

He tossed her a grin because she had to be joking, but she looked back at him with wide, worried eyes.

Gentry asked, "Does the age difference bother you?"

"I'm afraid it will eventually bother you. You're young and all muscled  up and have tattoos and scars and zero face-wrinkles, and you can have  any woman you want, Gentry. Literally, anyone you want. I'm practically a  mummy," she muttered.

That was ridiculous and made him laugh out loud. "Woman, I'm a damn  werewolf, and you accepted that in about three seconds. I've given zero  thoughts to you being older than me. You fit me fine the way you are.  You aren't a mummy. You're perfect."

"Swear it doesn't bother you?"

Gentry shook his head, pulled her hand into his lap, and pressed her  palm against the bulge in his pants, still raging thanks to their little  make-out session a minute ago. "I swear. Besides, if anyone saw us out  together, they would assume I'm older than you."

"Liar and flatterer. You are just trying to secure yourself a blow job."

"I'm serious. I'm a foot taller than you and quieter. That could pass as  more mature in some circles, Trouble. No one is going to care that  you're robbing the cradle."

She swatted him, and he winced like it hurt so she wouldn't feel weak.

"Oh, this is my favorite song," she said, turning up the radio.

He arched his eyebrow and tried not to laugh. "It's a condom commercial. See? I'm more mature."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she murmured, her cute little  chin lifted in the air as she pulled a pair of pink mittens onto her  hands. The color matched her rosy cheeks. She belted out the entire  jingle to the condom commercial. He loved everything about her.

"Are you happy?" he asked suddenly. Her answer mattered to him a terrifying amount.

Blaire slid her hand into his and rested it on his thigh. "I'm happy  with you. I'm happy to be here. I'm happy to be moving on with my life,  with my friends and family, and with my job. I'm not happy that you're  taking on this crazy town by yourself. When we left, Roman and Asher  didn't look like they were coming. Asher was packing his car up to  leave, and Roman was sitting on the porch in his underwear drinking what  I'm pretty sure was my last bottle of red wine. He wasn't even using a  cup. And he didn't smile at me when I waved. He looked angry."

So, she had seen that bit. Apparently, Asher had convinced his youngest  brother not to get involved. Fucking annoying how they always banded  together, and Gentry was always the odd-brother out, but what could he  do about it?

"I don't want you to do this alone," Blaire finished quietly. "Maybe we should call Odine."

"Not until I know her intentions. I don't like her interest in you, or  whatever fate she thinks is in store for me, and I don't like that she  is manipulating us into place for some agenda she doesn't feel like  sharing. I'm out on Odine. It's a bad idea to trust a witch, Trouble.  Always remember it. That's a sure-fire way to breathe your last breath  sooner. And her burning your hair? I don't want her anywhere near you."

"Why is it so dark out here?" Blaire asked, right as his instincts were wondering the same thing.

Gentry was halfway to town, dark woods on either side of the road, but  there were usually bright streetlights leading the way toward Main  Street. Gentry leaned forward, looked up at the dark light on the left,  and narrowed his eyes at the shattered glass and bulb. "What the fuck is  going on?" he murmured. "Those were fine yesterday."                       
       
           



       

A howl lifted on the breeze, and Gentry slammed on the brakes as a  shadowy figure appeared out of the woods and threw something across the  road. The strip of nails glistened in the moonlight right before the  truck skidded sideways over them.

The popping of the tires was loud, and he reached across to Blaire, held  her in place as the truck went up on two wheels. Her scream filled his  head and did something awful to Wolf.

The truck went up on two wheels and rolled. "Hold on!" he yelled as they  crashed and landed upside down. Everything slowed. Maybe it was shock  or denial that caused time to drag, but Gentry was thrown forward  against his seatbelt, and there was such terror in Blaire's eyes as the  windows shattered inward. He watched her lips as she screamed, and  everywhere tiny fragments of glass rained. And then time resumed as the  truck rocked upside down and settled.

Another howl filled the air, and another. These weren't his brothers'  voices that called him to war this time. This was Tim, Nelda, and even  Mila. This was the Bone-Rippers promising pain. Fury blasted through his  veins as he cradled Blaire's head from where it was resting on the roof  of the car, right on top of glass. Blood was streaming from a cut on  her forehead, and her wide, frightened eyes were locked on him. She was  panting so fast she would pass out soon if he didn't settle her. Out of  the broken front windshield, Gentry could see Rhett stride from the  woods in nothing but a pair of jeans, a ripped-up T-shirt, and unlaced  combat boots, like he was ready for the Change. He stalked toward the  truck, a feral smile stretching his face as he stepped over a lane of  snow.

Fuck. Gentry strained his hand against the roof of the car to give  himself room to unbuckle. He had to get Blaire out of here. She was a  sitting duck strapped to his truck like this, and there was smoke coming  from the engine. The buckle clicked, and he hit the ground hard. There  wasn't enough room to move easily, but he had desperation pushing him.