Jared (River Pack Wolves 3)(28)

His hands were on her cheeks in an instant, cupping them and holding her face tenderly. “Don’t be afraid. No matter what, I’ll protect you.” There was need in his voice again, and with his hands on her cheeks, and his suddenly labored breath in her face, her pulse raced ahead. Her wolf whimpered, crying out for him to move closer, kiss her, take her like she had been imagining from that very first moment in the field.

Time suspended as he held her, stretching into long seconds. A war was taking place on Jared’s face. Just as she thought he might lean in to kiss her, as she parted her lips to accept whatever he had to give, his eyes widened, and he took a step back. She instantly missed the feel of his strong hands; her wolf howled in frustration. But Jared wasn’t here to kiss her—he was here to win her over to his side, politically. The right side, as he saw it. And as she was slowly having to admit was the only side that justice could be found on.

“You know,” she said quietly, dipping her head and looking up at him through her lashes. Embarrassment heated her face. “The fantasies I’ve had about having you on my bedroom generally involved you ravishing me in my bed, not talking me into revolution.”

His eyes went wide, he blinked, then a slow smile quirked one side of his mouth. “Fantasies? As in plural.”

She huffed out a small laugh. “Just two or three. I’m not counting the one where you tie me up, because really… that’s kind of unnecessary.”

That look of need returned to his face. It forced the smile off hers… and sent a flush of heat between her legs. Oh, God. Her wolf was being drawn in by that look like it was a high-powered magnet.

Jared stepped closer again. “You’re in danger of making me feel things, Grace. Things I haven’t felt in a long time.” He visibly swallowed. “I don’t know what to do with that… with you… it’s not why I’m here.” He frowned. “Only it is. From the first moment I saw you shift, when I realized what you were and the situation you were in, it’s like you reached inside me and… well, I haven’t been able to stay away ever since.”

It was getting hard for her to breathe. He was closer but still too damn far away. She ached for him to breach the inches between them and kiss her, touch her, do something.

“If I do this thing, if I come out as a wolf…” She swallowed thickly, forcing air into her lungs. “I’m going to need a friend.”

His face clouded. “A friend. Not a lover.”

“A friend…” Her breathing was definitely labored now. “And maybe a lover.”

His eyes blazed at her words, but he still had a wild-eyed look to him—as if he was more afraid of kissing her than anything he’d done in his life. Her body trembled with need, but she was paralyzed by it. Then something broke in his expression, and before she could blink, he was on her—his hands in her hair and at the small of her back, crushing her to him; his mouth on hers, hungry and demanding; his rock-hard body pressed against the length of hers, overshadowing her, enveloping her, desiring her. The kiss was fast and breathless, and it felt like he was consuming her. It knocked her senseless, her arms limp at her side, engulfed by him.

It stopped as suddenly as it started.

He still held her, chest heaving into hers, but he pulled his lips from her bruised ones. She was on fire with need for him, which finally translated into her arms coming to life and gripping his massive shoulders, solid and heavy with muscles. He was so insanely masculine, raw strength under her hands, that the heated spot between her legs was instantly wet and aching.

He was breathing hard, barely two inches from her face. “Do you want to know my fantasy?”

Oh God, yes. She nodded, struck mute by the fact that this was happening. To her. In her bedroom.

“I picture you naked and beautiful in that field and…” He faltered, blinking… then he gave her that hungry look again. “And I dream of being the kind of man who actually deserves someone as innocent and beautiful as you. Then I want to kill anything that even threatens to harm you. And I remember that’s what I truly am—a killer.” His hold loosened on her. “You don’t want someone like me for a lover, Grace. I’m broken.”

No, no, no, her wolf protested. She gripped his shoulders, but he easily moved away from her.

She had no chance of holding him if he didn’t want to be held.

And that felt like an avalanche crashing down on her heart.





There. He said it. No uncertain terms.

He was a killer. And a broken man at that.

She should run from him. Or at least push him away, just as his mate, Avery, had done. No. He couldn’t think about that. But Grace wasn’t doing any of those things… instead, her hands were still trying to hold him, only giving up when he stepped completely out of reach.