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Insatiable Craving: 2 (Insatiable Nights)

Page 14

by Rosalie Stanton


  “Yes!”

  “Why?”

  “Because…because…” There just was no good argument for that. “Shut up, that’s why!”

  Razor fell silent a moment. Then he snickered.

  Ginny shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling wholly ridiculous and a little pissed off because of it. Her heart crashed against her chest, her eyes were welling with tears for the umpteenth time tonight, her skin hummed and her ears wouldn’t stop ringing. And Razor had just announced he loved her.

  There was no chance her life would ever be normal.

  “I didn’t want love,” she said softly. “And… It’s… Razor, you don’t—”

  He held up a hand. “Please don’t say I don’t know you again.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Bullshit. You’re an open book to me.” He stepped forward, inching toward the light. “Look, I didn’t know I was going to say that until I…said it, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

  “Love doesn’t work like that.”

  He snorted. “Says who? There are no rules for this thing, and I wouldn’t give a shit if there were.”Another step. Then another. His chest was exposed now, the fur she’d thought she’d seen gone, if it had been there at all. “My world isn’t like your world. I trust my instincts. Aside from Aria, they’re all I have. If there’s anything she’s pounded into my skull since she took me in, it’s to follow what’s in here.” He placed a hand over his heart. “That’s you, sunshine.”

  Ginny shook her head, tears beginning the now familiar trek down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Then don’t say anything.” Razor’s face was visible now—the face she’d come to cherish. His eyes warm and compassionate and so full of honest hope she thought she might suffocate. Even the scar that marred his features, the smooth line he’d claimed earlier was a parting gift from a psychotic ex, made him seem overtly beautiful. Vulnerable. The man had turned into a fucking wolf and she wanted to…

  “You love me?”

  She hadn’t meant to speak the words—they manifested of their own accord. Her voice sounded small and pathetic to her, but if the warmth that flooded his eyes was any judge, he didn’t share her assessment.

  “I do,” Razor agreed softly. “God help me.”

  “And…you’re a werewolf.”

  He nodded again. “I am.”

  “And that’s…real. That’s really a thing. You’re a werewolf.”

  He smiled. “No cure, I’m afraid. Believe me, I looked.”

  “What else is real? Zombies, vampires, Scientology?”

  Razor laughed this time. “Never met a zombie,” he said, “but I know a few vamps.”

  Ginny’s eyes bugged. She hadn’t expected that. “Oh.”

  “And don’t get me started on Scientology.” Another step forward. They were only inches apart. “And I wolfed out because…I knew what happened, Ginny. Maybe not the whole story, but I’m a smart guy. I pieced it together. But knowing it and knowing it are two different things.”

  She swallowed and inched closer to him almost unwittingly, but her body refused to obey her mind. She wanted him—wanted the comfort of his arms even if the rest of her couldn’t catch up with what she’d learned. Fighting him or their pull wouldn’t make a difference. In the end, the trust she’d felt earlier, the connection, the kinship, remained just as strong. That had to mean something. “They sound the same,” she said. “Knowing and knowing.”

  Razor nodded and pressed on another step. She could feel his breath on her lips, feel the heat rising from his body, feel his cock, hard and ready, straining toward her sex. At once nothing mattered anymore. She just wanted him. Wolf or not, crazy or not, she wanted him. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  “One is said with more pizzazz,” he practically whispered.

  Ginny released a trembling breath, her gaze abandoning his just long enough to study his lips. “You lost control…because of me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because I… Because you know.”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I couldn’t take the thought of someone doing that to you—of me not being able to stop it from happening. As long as you’re mine, anyone who touches you, hurts you…fuck, looks at you funny is a dead man walking.”

  Though she couldn’t keep the excited tremor from seizing her spine, Ginny managed to shake her head. “No,” she whispered. “Not that. Say the other thing again.”

  He studied her for a moment. “I love you, Ginny. Right now, tomorrow, and all the days after. You’re stuck with me.”

  Ginny pressed up on her tiptoes and consumed his mouth with her own, throwing her arms around his neck and practically pouncing on him. Razor seemed to anticipate the move, for his arms closed around her, his hands steadying on her ass as his feet began carrying them back in the direction of the bedroom.

  “This is real,” she whispered against his lips, an excited sigh breaking free of her throat as he slipped his hands up and under her tank top. She pulled back just long enough for him to yank the material over her head and find the floor before throwing herself against him again. “This is real. You and me. Real.”

  Razor nodded, his attention diverting to the clasp of her jeans. “You had to go and get dressed on me, didn’t you?”

  “I was scared. It’s not every day a man turns into a wolf right in front of you.”

  He chuckled and dragged down her fly’s zipper. “I’m thinking this will become more of a recurring thing than you realize. Aria’s been telling me for years I can’t keep my wolf inside, and being around you makes me see why.”

  A pleasant shiver raced down her back. “You try to keep it inside? The wolf?”

  Ginny paused and drew back—not a lot, just enough so she could wiggle free of her jeans. The existence of fabric between them was an unneeded obstacle. And she knew, somewhere deep within the buried layers of her subconscious, she shouldn’t be satisfied with anything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. A part of her clung to the possibility she had completely lost touch with reality, yet the rest of her didn’t really give a damn. The reality she’d experienced so far hadn’t exactly been kind to her. This alternative world and the possibilities it opened meant more than she could put into words, and on the chance it was all in her head, she didn’t want to voice her hope.

  “When I let my wolf out, people get hurt.”

  She frowned. “You didn’t hurt me.”

  “I know.”

  “You…” The frown deepened, her eyes settling on the scar again, and she summoned forward the story she’d dismissed earlier. “That’s from an ex-girlfriend,” she said, reaching up to caress the angry skin. “You weren’t lying.”

  “No.”

  “Was it all true?”

  Razor inhaled deeply and wrapped a hand around her wrist, his thumb massaging soothing circles against her palm. “My family… I was raised as a hunter. I told you that much. One night I got the prey cornered. Close enough she lost control of her shift or something. She was just a kid, maybe a couple years younger than me. I was so used to treating wolves like animals I forgot there was a person on the other side. Honestly, I’m pretty sure we were raised to forget that. It’s a lot easier to kill someone when you don’t think of them as, well, a someone. But when I saw her, I couldn’t… She did what anyone would do in that situation. She saw my hesitation and used it to her advantage. I got the bite, which turned me into a contender for a winter coat in my family’s eyes.”

  Ginny just stared at him, something in her chest twisting hard. “Wow,” she said. “And I thought my dad was an asshole.”

  “Your dad?”

  She shrugged. “He said getting raped was my fault because I’m a whore. In fact, it couldn’t be a rape because whores are so dick-hungry they can’t tell the difference.”

  Razor’s eyes darkened. “That piece of—”

  Ginny pressed a finger
to his lips and smiled softly. “But that’s my story. We’re on yours right now.”

  He nodded, though he looked distracted and pissed off, which just made the warmth in her chest swell. In the entire time since the incident with Travis, she’d never had anyone to help shoulder her pain and anger.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t had anyone she trusted enough, or trusted herself with. Her mother was a wonderful woman in a bad marriage, and Ginny couldn’t quite fathom leaning on someone who shared a bed with a man who believed his daughter was the little girl who cried rape. Her therapist hadn’t been much help, either, though Ginny shouldered most of the blame. In the early days, she hadn’t known how to talk about the incident. She hadn’t really wanted to—she just wanted someone to look at her and make it better without having to relive that horrible night again and again. In their sessions, she became a master at topic avoidance, barreling through the middle part to get to the prescription pad.

  What made Razor different, what made her feel safe enough to talk, she didn’t know. Maybe enough time had finally passed. Not relying on her outlets before had been dumb, she knew, but a part of her now was grateful. Sharing her story with Razor had not only unburdened her, it had rendered this man—this man who loved her—the one person who knew her best in the world. Despite all her claims to the contrary, the truth was he was the only living soul who knew her inside and out. She didn’t realize how desperately she’d needed that connection until now. Until looking in Razor’s eyes and seeing her own hurt shine back.

  “I, ahh…” He frowned and shook his head. “I was infected. I knew I had to haul tail if I wanted to keep my skin. Eventually my cousin Mark came to my rescue. Seems he was the one person who didn’t suddenly want my head on the wall. He was always a bit of a black sheep as it was. Aria is his ex-girlfriend, and he broke up with her mainly because the family didn’t approve of him dating a witch.”

  Ginny sucked in a deep breath. She’d forgotten that part. “Oh yeah. Aria’s a witch.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And…”

  “She saw me looking at you and you looking back,” Razor explained. “That night when she approached you, before you and I started…well, this…well, you had passed out because of Draken—”

  “Draken,” Ginny echoed. She searched her mind for a reference. It seemed much more time had passed since he’d yelled truths she’d thought were wild fabrications, but her memory was typically pretty reliable. “Oh, this would be the god that lives in the necklace? The Thor wannabe?” A beat passed. She blinked. “I can’t believe I just seriously asked that question.”

  Razor grinned and kissed her. “That’s him. Draken was cursed by Aria’s coven centuries ago, and the amulet where he’s held prisoner is passed to the eldest in the bloodline for safekeeping when she comes of age. Of course, Aria could technically pawn the amulet to her sister, who just came of age, but for whatever reason she holds onto him.”

  None of that made sense, but Ginny opted not to dwell. “And this god guy…he made me pass out?”

  “You’d probably raised your voice to Aria. He doesn’t like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he thinks he’s in love with her.”

  Ginny looked away and shook her head hard. “When did my life turn into an episode of Passions?”

  Razor chuckled and drew her close again, his feet resuming the trek back to her bedroom and his arms taking her for the ride. “You passed out, probably because you’re not used to gods barking at you through amulets.”

  “I’m such a pansy.” She wet her lips. “So how did I get back?”

  “Aria put a sleeping hex on you to keep you out and brought you home.”

  “How did she get in?”

  “She’s a witch. She probably asked the doorknob nicely to unlock.”

  That image disturbed her more than the prospect of a god being locked in a necklace or her boyfriend occasionally becoming a quadruped. Ginny shivered and shook her head. “Nice friend you got there.”

  Razor didn’t look amused. “She really is. If it weren’t for Aria, I don’t know what I would’ve done after…” He looked away, a trembling breath shaking through his body. “I need to back up. I didn’t meet her until after I got the scar.”

  Ginny nodded, another chill running through her body. He’d managed to walk her completely back to the bed when she wasn’t paying attention. Now she was grateful, for her legs suddenly resisted the job of holding her upright. She sank onto the mattress and met his gaze. Those beautiful deep eyes of his reflected back at her a world of hurt. Hurt she understood.

  There was something aside from hurt though. Something deeper clawing at him, and it didn’t take long to figure out what. Fear had joined the ranks. For what he had to say, Razor was terrified.

  “I love you,” he said suddenly, his voice somewhat desperate. “I do, Ginny. I didn’t know it until I said it out there, but it’s true. I don’t care how crazy it sounds—or is, for that matter. I can’t explain it. I just know I love you.”

  She stared at him for a long moment before a smile itched her lips. The wealth of what she felt for him was downright frightening, stretching through her body and pressing against her chest until she wanted nothing more than to return the words in kind. She wanted to say she loved him, because at the moment she could believe she did. After all, as he’d said, stranger things had happened. Odds might not be in their favor when it came to couples who had only known each other for however-many hours, but there had to be some out there that worked. She wasn’t a normal girl, anyway, and Razor was far from a normal guy.

  She wanted to love him as much as she believed he loved her, but she wouldn’t say it until it felt right. Until she knew for certain she was feeling love and not just excitement or a hormonal chemical concoction of euphoria. The sensations sweeping through her body were damn strong, she just didn’t want to say something she regretted later. When she said she loved him, Ginny wanted to know she meant it.

  So instead of giving him the words, she reached out to take his hand. “I know,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Whatever you have to tell me…”

  Razor trembled and squeezed her hand. “I thought I was in love before,” he said. “After I was infected, I was terrified and angry…then relieved, strange as it sounds. I realized the life my family had planned for me was not one I’d chosen, and even though I didn’t want to be what I was, it was a way out. I could do what I wanted, and that was the first time I—” He broke off and shook his head. “I started in music then. Played gigs here and there, and eventually I started earning real money. I was most successful on campuses and the like, and that’s how I met Natalie. We were close for a while—she made sure to gain my trust…though I don’t know why. I wasn’t worried about anyone finding me. I guess just to make it hurt. Anyway, turned out she was a hunter recruited by my family to…” He made a slitting motion across his throat with his free hand. “She shot me, stabbed me, gave me the scar…and I lost control.”

  “You killed her,” Ginny said. “If she was trying to kill you—”

  “Not just killed her. I fucking ripped her apart. I don’t know what got into me, but once I started…” Razor shivered, his eyes heavy and watery. “I left her in the dorm and tried to…I dunno. Her roommate found her.”

  “Roommate?”

  “Yeah. Raegan, her name was. She found her friend and then found me, and when she started pressing me for answers, I lost control again.”

  Ginny froze. Killing in self-defense was one thing. “Did you…”

  “Kill her?” Razor shook his head and sniffed again, wiping at his eyes. “No. I don’t know what was going on with me, Gin. I was fucked in the head, terrified and angry and strung out and I wolfed on her. Had animal control not been on campus that night—”

  “Animal control?”

  He nodded. “’Cause of Natalie. She was so… Well, when they found her…the story was it was an animal that
got her. They were looking for the animal that killed her. Looking for me.” He chuckled bitterly. “That’s how all those stories go when someone is ripped up like something from a horror movie. The sort of thing my family would look for before saddling up for a hunt. A neat and tidy story for the public. So animal control was looking for a culprit. For me… But if they hadn’t been there I might’ve killed Raegan too. And she was as innocent as they come. But I didn’t, thank God. All I managed to do was get myself not only on my family’s radar, but on other wolves’ as well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if I ever run into a wolf who knows who I am, or a hunter who’s been looking for me, they’ll likely kill each other for the rights to kill me.” He tensed. “That’s how Aria saved my life. She and her coven gave me protection when no sane person would. I’m alive today—here today—because of her.”

  Ginny nodded and looked away, her gaze fixating on a spot on the wall, her tired mind doing its best to reconcile what she’d heard and coming up woefully blank. How could one briefly tie together discovering the world she’d thought existed was more complex than she could have imagined—or at least existed on pretenses—with the man who loved her, the man who had reinvigorated her in ways she doubted she even completely realized.

  There were a thousand things she didn’t know at the moment—a million things. Things she couldn’t believe she believed, yet couldn’t deny all at once. The weight of what Razor had confessed wasn’t lost on her. She knew what it meant in the long run. The life he lived was dangerous, and he already had blood on his hands from placing his trust in the wrong person. And despite all the things she didn’t know, there was one thing she did.

  One thing she couldn’t ignore no matter how she tried.

  “Aria saved your life,” Ginny echoed, nodding shortly.

  “Yes,” Razor said. “She did.”

  “Good. Remind me to send her a gift basket.”

  He blinked. “You mean that? Really?”

  “Of course I do. If Aria saved you from…whatever would have happened, then yes, I owe her the world.” She paused, a shadow of doubt creeping through her body. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “But you don’t sleep with her.”

 

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