What This Wolf Wants(44)

“If I nap now I’ll never be able to get to sleep tonight.”

“I don’t think you’ve had enough sleep for a while now.”

She slanted a halfhearted glare at Zan through nearly closed eyes. “Are you trying to tell me I look like shit?”

He grinned, the sight was like the sun shining through storm clouds on a rainy day. She hadn’t realized she missed his smile until then. It gave her a jolt of pleasure to know she’d put it on his face.

“You could be naked and covered in horse manure and not look like shit.”

Her lips twitched. “Such a man. That’s because you’d be too busy eying my naked bits.”

His thumb moved in lazy circles, caressing the pulse in her neck. Feeling the change in him, the warm masculine heat that shifted from tender concern to blazing desire made her pulse jump under his touch. “They’re too beautiful to miss.”

“If you say so.”

“More like I know so.” His voice was thick, raspy, sounding strained to her ears. Remembering the microscopic view of said naked bits he’d had when he’d put his mouth to her only yesterday made her face flush with heat. Her thighs clenched against the onslaught of need that dampened between her legs.

She reached for his hand and reluctantly pulled it away from her neck. “About yesterday...” she began.

Zan closed his hand into a fist on his thigh. “Don’t even tell me it was a mistake or that it won’t be repeated. Because that would be a lie and you know it.”

Turning her head, she stared into the night, arms crossed over her middle, hating that he was right. Already she missed his touch, as if a part of her had been cruelly torn from her body. She hated how physically she wanted one thing so desperately she couldn’t sleep at night while intellectually she wanted something far different. Her emotions, normally so centered, where all over the place, bouncing from one extreme to the other, adding to her sleeplessness. If she took what she wanted physically, she ran the risk of destroying her soul. If she went the direction her brain told her to take, her heart just might shrivel up and die.

So once again she was back to the realization that she and Zan were in a no-win situation, at least for her. And since she didn’t know what to do, she did nothing and said nothing, letting the car fill with an uncomfortable silence.

It was with a sense of relief when, just over two hours later, Zan pulled into a hotel near the Denver airport. She waited in the car and chatted with Joe and Scott for the brief time it took Zan to check in. Soon she was walking through the door of her room, taking in at a glance the king sized bed that dominated the room, the armoire that no doubt held a TV, and the square table with three chairs topped with a mini coffee maker, cups, and various accoutrements. Zan followed behind her, his duffel bag slung over one broad shoulder, her suitcase in his hand. When he shut the door and locked it, she raised one brow in question, hoping he didn’t hear the sudden drumming of her heart.

“What are you doing?”

He dropped the duffel on the floor next to her case. “Locking us in for the night.”

Her breath hitched. “Us?”

Now he raised a brow. “You didn’t think I was letting you sleep alone and vulnerable, did you?”

“I don’t need a guard, Zan.”

“Maybe I do.” As her eyes narrowed, his filled with steely determination. “This is non-negotiable, Jackie. I’m staying.”

“Fine.” She backed away from the dark hunger and possessiveness he couldn’t hide.

A small burst of shifter power crackled through his control, lifting the hair on her nape. He was a predator at that moment and instinctively she took several slow steps away until the edge of the bed hit the back of her legs.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Fucking relax, woman. I’m not going to jump you.” He turned away, muttering something too low for her to hear, and picked up his bag. “I’m taking a shower.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he shot back, clearly frustrated with her.

It wasn’t until she heard the shower that she galvanized into action. By the time Zan came back out, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, Jackie had already changed into Pjs and was covered to her chin by the bedding, flipping through the channels of the TV.

Zan watched her silently for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. He set his phone on the nightstand and climbed in next to her, on top of the bedding with his back to the headboard. He switched the light off and then snatched the remote out of her hand, making her gasp.

“Get some sleep,” he ordered, his tone riding the ragged edge of control. Jackie felt that same edginess in the taut pull of his muscles as they flexed under the damp T-shirt. Unconsciously, she licked her lips and her eyes drifted lower. The soft sweats cupped his cock as she ached to do and stretched across his solid thighs.