Author: Sasha Summers
Category: Paranormal
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/36954_20
Another throb.
“Hollis?” She stood, her gaze finally returning to his face.
She expected him to answer her? To function? Now? “What the fuck do you expect me to say?” He growled, startling them both.
Her grin was pure mischief. “Thank you.” She shrugged. “I hadn’t expected you to be so well-endowed. But you are—”
Another throb. “Stop.”
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“Why?” she asked softly. “Most men like flattery.”
“I’m not most men.” He scowled at her.
Her eyes fell to his rock-hard dick. “No, I see that now. Not at all.”
She was teasing him—and loving every minute of it. But she was the one who had looked at him with hunger in her eyes. She was the one who followed him in here. Why? “What do you want, Ellen?” He ran a hand over his face.
“Right now?” She pretended to think about it before saying, “I want to help you finish what you started.”
“Fucking hell,” he ground out. “I didn’t start a goddamn thing. I was taking a shower. Period.”
“You were…washing yourself?” Her brow rose. “Even if I did believe that, you’re clearly in need of some attention.” She lathered up her hands.
He watched, staring at her hands—torn between arguing and accepting.
But then she washed her arms and chest, her teeth worrying her lower lip and making him growl out. “Shit.”
“Is that a yes?” she asked.
He stood his ground, refusing to back down. She was teasing him—tormenting him. It’s what she did. Normally, they weren’t both naked. And he didn’t have a hard-on. “I can take care of myself.”
“Can you? Let me see.” She crossed her arms, making her already taut nipples jut forward. “Go on.”
“Now?” he asked, thrown.
“Yes, now. Clearly.” She pointed at him. “From the way you’re reacting, I’d say right now.”
Her gaze, her words—she might as well be touching him. She wasn’t. She shouldn’t. They both knew that.
“You are tense, Hollis. Perhaps you’re not taking care of yourself often enough?” Her soaped hands moved over her breasts in slow, leisurely circles.
“Fuck,” he ground out, planting a hand against the tile wall to steady himself and staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t prepared for this game. And he sure as hell didn’t want to play. “You’re crossing a line, Ellen. Either you leave, or I will.”
“Like that?” She sighed. “What will the rest of the pack think?”
He glared at her. “You’re bored, restless, whatever the hell this is. But I won’t let you fuck me over for your entertainment—”
“I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be the only one enjoying things,” she finished, her fingers working over her nipples.
He stared, dammit, what else could he do? She had no intention of touching him. This was about control—she needed to feel in control. But there was a hint of desperation about her. A momentary flash of vulnerability in those disarming eyes of hers. It was enough to deflate his temper. Today had been hell. The look on her face when she’d seen Byron had been laden with torment, anger, and fear. She was hurting, lashing out, and he was here. He was here and no one else was.
He had the pack, his family…and she had no one. A wave of empathy crashed over him and wiped out all else. “I’m sure I would. But it’s not what you need.” He didn’t think as he drew her against him.
The press of her silky-soft skin against his chest almost challenged his good intentions. Almost. For a second, she yielded to his hold and he was lost. Everything was off—but in a good way. Having her pressed against him filled him with hunger, yes, but there was something more. The need to protect and comfort her. Things she would dismiss with a laugh and a wave of her hand.
Her hands, sandwiched between them, pushed against him. Gone was the soft and willing woman. “I don’t need comforting, Hollis. Comfort is a false promise. What I need is distraction. Something to ease the heat in my blood.” She stared up at him as her hands explored his arms and shoulders.
But he was still trying to make sense of whatever had happened the few seconds she’d relaxed in his hold. He’d been aware of something hovering in the periphery of his subconscious. Some fleeting sense of belonging. Pinning it down was impossible. Her sce