by P. Jameson
“Ratchet,” she whispered.
He found her gaze and tried to strangle his desire. He couldn’t let her see that he was close to snapping—
“You can touch me.”
“No, lamb.” His throat was rocks. “I can’t.”
“Earlier you wanted to.”
He swallowed hard. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I want to too much.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Her voice still quivered from leftover adrenaline.
“Don’t want to scare you,” he admitted.
“You haven’t yet.”
But she hadn’t seen him crazed with lust. Because he’d never felt it this strong before. He wouldn’t risk hurting their fledgling bond and pushing her away.
“I want it,” she whispered. “You calm me.”
Mmm. That drove him even hotter.
She was doing the opposite of calming him. She was building a fire so hot he was afraid he’d explode. And since he didn’t know what was happening inside his body, no way was he putting her in the middle of the blast.
But there was something he could do. It would make them both feel better. Hell, that was putting it lightly. It would make him feel like a fucking king.
If she’d let him… he was going to make her come on his hand.
If his mate would give him that much, it would quell the fire. Just giving her pleasure. He knew it.
“You sure?” He was going to ask once. Just once. Give her one chance to take it back. And then he wasn’t asking again. Because his beast couldn’t keep holding back his nature. He was dominant. And Marlee would have to accept him like that.
Eventually.
“I’m sure.”
He searched her eyes. There was no trepidation. Had he really won her enough for this?
There was only one way to find out.
He pulled Marlee into his arms, watching her reaction. Eyes wide. Scared, but not of him.
Scared of her feelings.
Me too, little lamb. Me too.
He slipped his hand up the back of her shirt, smoothing his rough palm along her spine and pressing her into his chest. She fit there just fine. Perfectly even. The perfect shape to patch the hole in his heart.
She snuggled closer, and he breathed through the fiery pounding of his heart.
Was he getting hotter? Damn.
“This good?” he strained out.
She nodded against his chest. He traced his thumb over her shoulder blades, his fingers over the small bones of her back. Her little nails pressed into the fabric of his t-shirt. She wasn’t used to good touching. It reminded him of when he was a cub. If not for his mother, he’d never have known the difference between a punch and a kiss.
Right now, he was going to remind Marlee the difference between the good and the bad.
Dragging his hand to her waist, he squeezed, waited, letting her get used to his hands on her.
He was taming her. Taking all the fight out of her so she could save it for when she needed it. Taming his mate. While she made him feel wilder than he ever had.
He played with the waist of the sweatpants she wore. He was going to have her order some new clothes online tomorrow. She’d like that. He knew she was bare underneath, but he kept from going straight for her ass. Instead, he swept up her ribs, feeling the way her breath hitched as he went higher. He paused with his thumb just under her breast.
Ask.
But he didn’t want to. He wanted to tell.
He settled for somewhere in the middle.
“I’m going to make you feel good, lamb. You say stop, I will. Understand?”
“Yes.” Her whispered breath hit his neck making him flush all over.
Shit, the fire burned.
Sliding his hand up, he palmed her tit, feeling her small nipple bead against his grip. She gasped, going tense against him.
Wait. Slow. Easy.
This was why he couldn’t fuck her. He could never go easy with her, and that’s what she needed. But he could do this. Touch. Touch her until she was quivering with pleasure.
He only moved his thumb, sweeping it over the swell of her breast until her breath came back.
“Stop?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered.
And inside his beast roared a victory.
He squeezed her softly, demanding his bastard hand be gentle. So far, so good. And moved to press his hand to her sternum, feeling her heart pump in her chest. His middle finger dipped into the hollow beneath her throat and she swallowed instinctively before he dragged his hand down her flat stomach to the front of her sweats.
Her breath was coming in short pants now. Her fingers pulled so hard at his shirt the collar was tight.
“Ratchet?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are we doing this?”
“Because we need to bond, my female. This is the way. Very carefully.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know. Just feel me.”
She swallowed hard. “I do. I like it,” she admitted, and he found her face. It was flushed red, making her green eyes pop in the dim lamp light.
“Good,” he growled out.
His cock was hard as steel, barely confined by his jeans. He was glad he’d left the button undone to give it some room. Because he wasn’t taking the thing out. Marlee trusted him, but he didn’t trust himself. And he wasn’t grinding it against her hip. He was keeping the throbbing thing a goddamn secret as long as he could, even though she must know what this was doing to him.
He slipped his fingers past her waistband, probing all her soft flesh until he found the cleft of her pussy.
And that’s where he stopped.
Because Marlee had pulled his shirt so tight she was damn near strangling him. And her teeth bit her bottom lip so hard she was about to draw blood from the part of it that was split. And her face was turning crimson from the breath she was holding.
“Breathe, baby,” he ordered.
She exhaled in a rush, gasping in more air and holding it.
She shook in his hold and he hadn’t even touched her there yet.
Holy shit. Was she that close to coming already?
His beast purred inside. Perfect little female. So responsive to his touch even after all the ugly things she’d endured.
But he knew how she felt. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his dick. One pump and he’d be done, but sacrificing that for her right now made him feel ten feet tall and invincible.
“Stop?” he asked one last time.
“Nm hmm,” she whimpered.
Good mate.
Soft as a feather, he slipped his fingers through her folds, groaning at the slick wetness there. A rush of satisfaction rolled through him. A tidal wave starting in his chest and ending at his crotch. Fuck.
“Marlee,” he groaned. “Your body likes my touch too.”
She clamped her thighs tight around his hand, breath heaving.
He dropped a trembling kiss to her temple. The first. But definitely not the last. “S’okay. Won’t hurt you. Never.”
She nodded, twitching and gripping his shirt like it was her lifeline.
“Open up and let me feel you, baby. Trust me.”
She inched her legs apart. Not much, but when she did, Ratchet eased his finger farther inside, slicking along her lips until he bumped against the tight little pearl of her clit.
She jerked at the contact even though it was hardly more than a breath.
“Ratchet! I… I…”
Oh, his name from her sweet mouth when she was about to tip over the edge of pleasure… it was all he could take. He pushed his hips into the mattress, feeling the sting of his brutal erection, the tightening of his balls…
Again, he slipped his finger through her wet cunt.
“Scream, moan, cry. I don’t care,” he rumbled, resisting the urge to nip the shell of her ear. “Just give me what we both need, mate. Come apart on my hand. Feel good. I need you to feel
good.”
Damn it, he did.
Felt like he’d never find oxygen until she was pleasured. Until she had completely forgotten about her nightmare, and all she knew was him.
With a sweet little gasp, she rattled apart, twitching and writhing so perfectly. His cock jerked in response, his release pounding through him as he came harder than he ever had in his life.
Sweet fuck.
Sweet fucking hell.
Inside, his beast burned and roared. The thing was growing stronger. Like whatever he and Marlee had just shared gave it strength.
Her breath raced. His did too. As they came down from their high, and he couldn’t free his hand because her legs had it in a vise.
He imagined what those thighs would feel like gripping his hips the same way.
A few more breaths and she eased her hold on him. He pulled free, bringing his finger to his mouth to lick her orgasm from it. It was as close as he was getting to actually licking her, and it wasn’t nearly good enough. But it was a start.
He tamped down the feral snarl in his throat at her taste. Mine. If there was ever any doubt, it was flown out the window, sailing five hundred yards over Kentucky by now.
Mine.
“Wh-what now?” Marlee breathed.
He met her gaze, knowing his eyes must be showing some of his new beast. She watched wide-eyed as he licked his finger again, making sure to get every drop of her essence.
He pulled her into the circle of his arms, unable to stop himself from dropping another kiss to her forehead. But she was soft in his hold, not rigid. They were good, and he felt amazing. Nearly whole.
Nearly.
“Now you sleep. And no more nightmares, lamb. Because I’m here. Watching over you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Marlee paced the small bathroom, waiting for Ratchet to get home. He was late, but not much. Just enough that it was getting dark and she’d come into the bathroom so she could turn on the light.
She wondered how much longer she’d have to pretend she didn’t exist.
Ratchet wanted her to give him time. He would help her free the girls but he needed time. Well he’d had almost two weeks, but they were no closer to a rescue attempt.
It hadn’t been a bad two weeks with him. In fact, just the opposite. She’d gotten to know him. Seen his tender side so many times, she finally understood what Leah had meant that first day.
He knows how to be right. He just needs to remember.
Ratchet was a good man. Or… he was now.
His past was questionable. But he was trying so damn hard to make up for it. She could see that.
And his careful ways had gone a million miles to helping her heal.
Everyday, Ratchet left her in his room and went to work. Each day he brought her a new gift he’d found. Little sweet gestures that had seemed weird at first.
A dragonfly broach that was rusted and missing most of its gemstones. He said to remind her of the Dragonfly Inn from “Guillotine” Girls.
An eraser shaped like a slice of chocolate cake. The very tip had been used but it was mostly there. He said, to remind her of her first meal as a free woman. She didn’t have the heart to remind him she still wasn’t free yet.
A bottle cap. Whiteish plastic. Like from a bottle of drinking water. This one had meant a lot, she could tell by the way he’d given it to her. He had stood so still, so quiet, as he held it in his palm for her to take. Shoulders high, like he was proud.
“To remind you I’ll always give you unopened water so you know it’s safe.”
He’d cleared his throat like his words hadn’t come through right, and tried again.
“To remind you I won’t do things that make you feel unsafe. No matter how strange it seems.”
He’d frowned, opening his mouth to try again. But she got the message.
He would change the paint color in his room if it made her feel better. Remove the rug from the floor and hang it over the window. Line all his socks up on the dresser instead of inside it. Whatever.
She had lunged at him for the second time, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest. “I love it,” she had whispered against his grimy shirt as he’d curled his big arms around her again. And she relished the touch, the safety, just like she had the first time.
He was determined to do right by her. And she didn’t always understand why. But his effort stole her heart. He said cryptic things like that they were ‘growing a bond’ or that she was his ‘mate’. Or like last night when they were lying in bed falling asleep, and he said, “You’re giving me back my life, lamb.” He’d squeezed her a little too hard, but she hadn’t complained because she liked how strong he was. It made her feel protected. Like she had her very own bodyguard. “Do you know how amazing you are?”
Every night, they took to the roof so she could get air. She kept expecting him to kiss her. Or repeat what they’d shared the one time in his bed. Expected more of those magical touches that made her feel like she was flying and wiped every ugly part of her past away, even if just for a few minutes.
But he’d mostly held her pinky. Only in bed or when she greeted him at the door, would he wrap her in his arms and hold her like she wanted.
Yeah. She wanted that. And even more.
It was unbelievable that her heart was opening like this. Unfathomable. And if anyone had asked her weeks ago if she’d ever feel safe enough to be close to a man, the answer would’ve been a hard no.
But Ratchet made her stronger. Gave her power she thought she’d never have.
And hope that one day she’d be completely free.
She paused as she heard the bedroom door open, and her heart did a ridiculous flip, making her want to grin.
He was home.
She reached for the handle, but before she could turn it she heard a voice she didn’t recognize. And double as many footsteps as there should be.
“Ratchet, you in there?” The voice belonged to a man and wasn’t familiar. It had the same rough edge as Ratchet’s, but not nearly as patient.
Marlee went cold.
There was a stranger in Ratchet’s room. What if they opened the bathroom and found her here?
Fear slammed her in the chest, grabbing hold of her throat to keep her from breathing.
“We need to talk about this picture, asshole,” a second voice grumbled, also male.
Picture. Was this Skittles? The man who found the photo she’d dropped in the shed?
“Can’t fucking take it,” the first guy said. “Gotta get the females free or I’m gonna go batshit fucking crazy. Deal with the consequences later.”
A heavy hand pounded on the bathroom door, drawing a surprised gasp from her as she stumbled backward and crashed into the counter. Her foot hit the trash can, scooting it across the floor. The sound was thunderous in her ears.
Damn it.
She was preparing for one of them to come through the door when Ratchet’s booming voice covered up the noise she’d made.
“The fuck are you doing in my room?” He was furious. She’d never heard him like this. Rough, on edge, sure. But livid? Ready to raze the place? Never.
“Shit,” the first voice said. “We thought you were in the bathroom. Chill the fuck out.”
“Look,” the second voice said low. “Felix is gone for a few minutes, and we wanted to discuss our little problem.”
Silence stretched out, and Marlee held her breath.
“What do you want?” Ratchet demanded.
“We need a plan. We need to get these females away from Bastian so we can heal our animals. Whatever this thing is inside me is shredding me all up. Won’t stop until I get her out of there.”
Animals. What animals? And how could the other girls help them.
The calmer one—Skittles?—spoke up. “I agree. We need to act soon. We don’t know what kind of hell they’re in right now. What if we wait too long? What if… if…” He faded off on a growl that sent c
hills down Marlee’s spine.
“Look,” Ratchet said, irritated. “I know. I want to get them free too, but I called Malcom. He won’t talk to me. If you got a plan, I’d love to hear it. Otherwise, you need to get out of my fucking room.”
There was another long silence.
“Why?” the first voice asked.
“Why? Because I’m tired and I need a shower, and don’t want to look at your face when I don’t have to.”
He was trying to get them out of the room to keep her cover.
“No. Why do you want to free the girls? What’s in it for you?”
More silence. This time she could swear she felt a crackle of energy through the door.
“You got someone in there?” the second voice asked. “Who’s in the bathroom, Ratchet?”
“Nobody,” he ground out, and somehow it sounded like a threat.
“Light’s on.”
“Left it on this morning.”
“Sure about that?”
“Dead fucking.”
First voice spoke up again. “You never answered my question.”
“You’re asking me why those females in the picture matter to me?”
“Yes.”
More silence.
“To break the curse the witches put on us, we have to change. In our hearts. Do right, and not wrong. Help, not hurt. Isn’t that what they said? I want my animal back just as badly as anyone. If that means freeing a few females that aren’t mine from a bastard I don’t like, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Seconds ticked on and Marlee tried to make sense of what Ratchet told the others. A witch put a curse on them? A witch. Like from The Craft? Okay. And what was the talk about animals? Was this some Alley Cat code?
“Okay,” the calmer one said. “Fine. Here’s what we were thinking. The females are somewhere on Bastian’s compound. Monster thinks we need to get one of us on the inside. Find a reason to get close. Maybe work a security detail, if we can get the Junkyard Dogs to give up one of theirs. Then we find the girls, and break ‘em out. Don’t go in all guns blazing. Infiltrate instead. Do this stealthy.”
“It could work,” the first voice agreed.
“We have to be careful,” Ratchet warned. “If Felix finds out, we’ll have the entire clan against us.”
