Lone Wolf(26)

The length of her body moved with his as she kissed him, her breasts soft against his chest. She had strength and gentleness rolled into one package.

Maria pulled away from the kiss, her beautiful face wet. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry. I can’t . . .” She wiped her eyes.

Ellison’s breath came fast, his lips tingling from the frenzied kiss. “What the hell are you apologizing for?”

“I don’t know . . . I don’t trust what I think anymore.”

“You’ve been through hell, Maria. No one can think straight after that. I don’t care if it was a year ago. But you can trust me.”

“Trust you for what?”

“To take care of you.” He caught her hand, kissed her fingers, and laid his hand and hers over her heart. “Be my mate,” he said swiftly. “Let me protect you.”

The look she gave him was stricken. “You don’t have to. I’ve already decided what I’m going to do.”

“Go to school, yeah, I know. You can do that and be my mate at the same time. My sister loves you, my nephews think you’re cool, and everyone in Shiftertown likes you.”

She nodded and looked away. “Everyone has been good to me, yes.”

“Let me be better. Come on, sweetheart. All the pretty ones get snapped up before I have a chance. This time, I’m cutting everyone else out.”

“Ellison . . .”

She was scared. Terrified from what had happened to her before. She’d trusted the wolf Luis, and he’d not been able to save her from the worst. Trusting again would not come easy for her.

“It’s not the same now,” Ellison said. “When I mate-claim you, when we’re joined under sun and moon, no one will get to you. Not Broderick, not anyone. I’ll be your protector, your first line of defense. And believe me, I’ll be a way better fighter than your Luis ever was. I’d never let anything happen to you. This, I promise.”

***

She wanted it. Maria felt the pull, the need to lay her head on Ellison’s shoulder and let him take her hurting away. His gray eyes were focused on her, unyielding, resolute, his body warm from himself and the Texas sunshine. He hadn’t worn his cowboy hat while they rode, stuffing it into the saddlebag instead, and his short hair was ruffled by the wind and gleamed gold. He was a delicious sight.

But Maria had woken up one morning months ago, after many weeks of not wanting to get out of bed at all, realizing that the person who needed to take care of Maria was Maria. Hence her plan to go to school, get a professional degree, find a job, and live in safety the rest of her life.

Becoming a mate of a Shifter had no part in that plan. Never again.

Then again, this was Ellison. With Luis, Maria had been not much older than a schoolgirl, and she’d believed Luis was a dream come true. She’d wanted to get away from her dull life of near poverty, of routine that would last forever. Luis had been handsome, romantic, a means of escape.

Ellison was a friend. The first time Maria had seen him, when Dylan had brought her straight from Mexico to Shiftertown, she was broken and barely able to speak. Ellison had made her want to laugh even then. He’d been so-over-the-top Texan—with his boots, hat, huge belt buckle, the Texas drawl, the ma’am. He’d touched his finger to his hat and called her that, nodding and smiling, his gray eyes warm.

Dylan had intimidated her almost as much as Miguel had, and she’d been afraid that her situation hadn’t improved. But Ellison had made Maria laugh from day one—he’d been truly funny, instead of using humor to be derisive and cruel. While she’d not been able to look up at Spike, or even Ronan, she’d raised her head and let Ellison’s smile make her feel better.

His smile still made her feel better, and his kisses were even better than that.

Maria reached up and smoothed his hair, liking the wiry silk of it. Ellison’s eyes flickered, the Shifter in him responding, but he only closed his eyes briefly, letting her touch.

He didn’t want to scare her. From the time she’d met him, Ellison had been trying to calm and reassure her, and to keep others from frightening her. He’d been right there when the asshat human had tried to intimidate her last night; he’d been at her side the moment Broderick had tried to harass her on her way home.

Now he stood in silence, letting her touch him, not grabbing her or coercing her. She ran her hands up his forearms, feeling every muscle, finding the hollows inside the bend of his elbows, the hard strength of his biceps under his shirtsleeves. Up to his shoulders, which held the responsibility of his sister, his nephews, Deni’s violent episodes.