Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
I’ve been on the receiving end of Jag’s looks and understand exactly what Wolf’s describing. But I keep that to myself, not interrupting. Barely breathing.
“He promised to keep his hands to himself. His broken wrist over there, his other arm behind his head.” His eyes drift somewhere behind me. “I couldn’t resist the offer. I needed to know. So I touched him. Jerked him. Not gently either.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I was mean, every stroke of my fist fueled by anger and confusion and shame. He didn’t stop me, and that only made me want him more.”
A jealous spasm erupts in my stomach, but I tamp it down because this isn’t about me. It’s about him learning what it means to want without fear.
“I leaned into it.” His fingers pick at the edge of his robe, the movement restless. “I had to know if it felt different with a man who wasn’t forcing himself on me. Someone who wasn’t my self-proclaimed father.”
My throat closes around a hot ember.
“It did. It felt different. Jag kept his promise and didn’t touch me. Maybe it was his fever, but I think he would’ve let me do just about anything I wanted to him. So I did. I pulled myself out and jerked us both off in one hand. But you know what really messed me up? I hurt him the way Denver hurt me, and Jag got off on it. He fucking enjoyed it. And so did I. It was the first orgasm I ever had with another person.”
My nails dig into my palms, but I keep my face steady.
“I never enjoyed what Denver did to me,” he whispers. “Sometimes, my body responded to his abuse against my will, and I hated that. But I never climaxed. Not even close.” He forces a shaky, bitter laugh. “Denver did, though. He took pleasure in hurting me. And when I was with Jag, I got off on hurting him. What does that make me?”
He stares at his lap, his entire posture caving inward, as if waiting for me to reject him.
“It makes you normal, Wolf. Look at me.” I wait for his gaze and soften my expression. “You were two consenting adults, sharing a heated moment. If Jag didn’t want your touch, fever or not, he would’ve shut it down. I know you know that.”
“Maybe. Didn’t stop me from falling face-first into crazy town afterward. Not because of what we did together, but because of what I felt.”
“You’re not crazy.” I reach up and touch his jaw, my thumb brushing the faint stubble there.
“Debatable.” He leans in, his timbre rumbling in that low, rough register that always finds its way under my skin. “Now you know all my unsexy secrets and regrets.”
“Do you regret what you did with Jag?”
“No.” He searches my eyes. “Is that the part that sends you running?”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
His face softens, just enough to hurt.
“But,” I whisper, “I can’t stay.”
The softness shatters. “Why the hell not?”
“It’s not you.” I hate how cliché that sounds. Even more, I hate how true it is. “It’s the risk.”
“What risk?” His jaw clicks, nostrils flaring. “You think you’ll hurt me? That’s as insulting as—”
“Jag.”
“Jag?” His expression shifts. Not fear. Not surprise. More like annoyance that I picked the wrong subject to argue.
“What about him?”
“You know what he does.” My chest tightens. “People die around him. Men who show interest in me. He’s possessive and violent—”
“He wouldn’t kill me.” He says it like it’s obvious, matter-of-fact, like a man defending his lover.
The jealousy hits again, a stupid flash low in my stomach. “Wolf…”
“I’m not one of your abusive foster brothers or pervy stalkers, begging for Jag’s wrath. He and I have an understanding.”
“Oh, because you shared an orgasm together, you’re no longer his enemy?”
“Well… Yeah.”
“Gavin is dead, Wolf.” I hug my waist.
“What?” He stiffens. “Your ex? When?”
I pull up the obituary on my phone and hand it to him.
He reads it and loosens a disbelieving breath. Then he presses the back button and sees the text from Gavin’s mother.
“You learned about this four days ago.” He pins me with an accusing glare. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I learned about it right before I found you in the shower and…” I wave my hand around. “There hasn’t been a good time to bring it up.”
“That’s no excuse. Christ.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, his features gentling. “You shouldn’t have carried that alone. You could’ve told me. I would’ve held some of it for you.”
“You were dealing with enough.”
“Give me some credit, darling. I’m built to handle the heavy stuff.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Do you want to talk about it? About Gavin’s death?”
I flinch. “No.”
“How did he die?”
“Jag.” My chest constricts. “Jag killed him.”
“How do you know?” His face goes pale and feral all at once.