by Alisa Woods
Jared’s calm expression warped into concern. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Grace.”
“I don’t know that!” She wrenched out of his grasp because tears were glassing her eyes, and she was ashamed of them. She turned away and strode across the thick, cream-colored carpeting to the wall of windows on the far side of the room. Her bedroom was a host of barely-concealed lies—the contradictions that lay just under the skin of her life. The gymnastics trophies from when she was a girl stood proudly on her shelves—she’d always been unnaturally strong, in spite of her slender frame. Because she was actually a wolf. Her bed’s deep purple spread was neatly tucked in, mocking her with the fact that she was twenty-five years old and never had a man in it. Because she was a shifter. The framed pictures of her and her father meeting important politicians, from the time she was a little girl, all the way up to meeting the Secretary of State last month. She was the politician’s daughter. His protégé. She was the goddamn campaign manager for the state’s most anti-shifter politician. And she was a shifter.
It was all lies. And it was all going to crumble down around her and bury her along with him.
She felt Jared’s presence behind her, all warmth and strength. She envied him in that moment—knowing who he was with such conviction. Having strength enough for her to borrow. It wasn’t that she thought he was lying to her—far from it. She just didn’t know if she had the strength to face the truth.
“Grace…” There was a ripple of pain in his voice, and it tore through her. “I don’t know how to convince you that I’m telling the truth.” She could hear the plea in it, and that—that vulnerability—was what forced her to lift her chin and turn to face him.
Because this brave, strong man was one of the shifters who would be hurt if she didn’t do what was right.
“I believe you,” she whispered, her lips barely moving as she stared up into his dark eyes. “But I’m afraid.” She blinked back the tears. “I’m ashamed to say that, but it’s true.”
His hands were on her cheeks in an instant, cupping them and holding her face tenderly. “Don’t be afraid. No matter what, I’ll protect you.” There was need in his voice again, and with his hands on her cheeks, and his suddenly labored breath in her face, her pulse raced ahead. Her wolf whimpered, crying out for him to move closer, kiss her, take her like she had been imagining from that very first moment in the field.
Time suspended as he held her, stretching into long seconds. A war was taking place on Jared’s face. Just as she thought he might lean in to kiss her, as she parted her lips to accept whatever he had to give, his eyes widened, and he took a step back. She instantly missed the feel of his strong hands; her wolf howled in frustration. But Jared wasn’t here to kiss her—he was here to win her over to his side, politically. The right side, as he saw it. And as she was slowly having to admit was the only side that justice could be found on.
“You know,” she said quietly, dipping her head and looking up at him through her lashes. Embarrassment heated her face. “The fantasies I’ve had about having you on my bedroom generally involved you ravishing me in my bed, not talking me into revolution.”
His eyes went wide, he blinked, then a slow smile quirked one side of his mouth. “Fantasies? As in plural.”
She huffed out a small laugh. “Just two or three. I’m not counting the one where you tie me up, because really… that’s kind of unnecessary.”
That look of need returned to his face. It forced the smile off hers… and sent a flush of heat between her legs. Oh, God. Her wolf was being drawn in by that look like it was a high-powered magnet.
Jared stepped closer again. “You’re in danger of making me feel things, Grace. Things I haven’t felt in a long time.” He visibly swallowed. “I don’t know what to do with that… with you… it’s not why I’m here.” He frowned. “Only it is. From the first moment I saw you shift, when I realized what you were and the situation you were in, it’s like you reached inside me and… well, I haven’t been able to stay away ever since.”
It was getting hard for her to breathe. He was closer but still too damn far away. She ached for him to breach the inches between them and kiss her, touch her, do something.
“If I do this thing, if I come out as a wolf…” She swallowed thickly, forcing air into her lungs. “I’m going to need a friend.”
His face clouded. “A friend. Not a lover.”
“A friend…” Her breathing was definitely labored now. “And maybe a lover.”
His eyes blazed at her words, but he still had a wild-eyed look to him—as if he was more afraid of kissing her than anything he’d done in his life. Her body trembled with need, but she was paralyzed by it. Then something broke in his expression, and before she could blink, he was on her—his hands in her hair and at the small of her back, crushing her to him; his mouth on hers, hungry and demanding; his rock-hard body pressed against the length of hers, overshadowing her, enveloping her, desiring her. The kiss was fast and breathless, and it felt like he was consuming her. It knocked her senseless, her arms limp at her side, engulfed by him.
It stopped as suddenly as it started.
He still held her, chest heaving into hers, but he pulled his lips from her bruised ones. She was on fire with need for him, which finally translated into her arms coming to life and gripping his massive shoulders, solid and heavy with muscles. He was so insanely masculine, raw strength under her hands, that the heated spot between her legs was instantly wet and aching.
He was breathing hard, barely two inches from her face. “Do you want to know my fantasy?”
Oh God, yes. She nodded, struck mute by the fact that this was happening. To her. In her bedroom.
“I picture you naked and beautiful in that field and…” He faltered, blinking… then he gave her that hungry look again. “And I dream of being the kind of man who actually deserves someone as innocent and beautiful as you. Then I want to kill anything that even threatens to harm you. And I remember that’s what I truly am—a killer.” His hold loosened on her. “You don’t want someone like me for a lover, Grace. I’m broken.”
No, no, no, her wolf protested. She gripped his shoulders, but he easily moved away from her.
She had no chance of holding him if he didn’t want to be held.
And that felt like an avalanche crashing down on her heart.
There. He said it. No uncertain terms.
He was a killer. And a broken man at that.
She should run from him. Or at least push him away, just as his mate, Avery, had done. No. He couldn’t think about that. But Grace wasn’t doing any of those things… instead, her hands were still trying to hold him, only giving up when he stepped completely out of reach.
“You’re not a bad man.” She said it with fists clenched by her side, tears glassing her eyes.
But she didn’t know. Or maybe she simply didn’t believe him.
“I am, Grace.”
“Jared—” She stopped herself, looking even more frustrated. “Is that even your name?” she demanded. She was starting to get angry, which speared something inside him. He expected it, but it was a blow all the same. And the pieces of him were threatening to come apart again.
“Yes,” he said heavily. “Jared. Last name River. Not that it matters.”
“It matters to me!” She stomped toward him on those small, delicate feet, and he found himself backing up in equal measure. As if he were actually afraid of her touch. Which he was—if she got any closer, he might give in to another of those scorching hot kisses. And then he would come completely undone. He could feel the threat of it pulling at the threads of his being—his sanity—with red-hot pinchers.
She reached him anyway, stopping just before touching him. “Jared River, you killed people in the war.”
Her words stabbed straight into him. “Yes.” It was becoming hard to breathe.
She was blinking rapidly, determination on her face. “You said you were a sharp-shooter. Which means you
looked through your scope and saw their faces before you killed them.”
He couldn’t help wincing with the pain. “Yes.”
“You did your duty.” Her voice softened, but her eyes were drilling into him.
And he could finally see what she was doing. “It doesn’t matter if it was my duty. It doesn’t matter if it needed to be done, or if there were lives saved because of it. None of that matters, Grace.”
She edged toward him. “All of it matters.”
He shook his head, hands up, fending her off. “No. It doesn’t. Because in the end, all that matters is what I’ve become. I’m a thing, Grace. A thing that knows how to kill. I’ve used every shifter sense I have, all the training the Marines gave me, and I used it to hunt people. And kill them. It used up everything that I have. Everything that I am. It’s all I’m good for anymore.” Avery had said as much to him. And even if she had never said a word, he would have still known the truth of it, deep inside. There was nothing left of him anymore.
The war had dug deep and emptied him out.
“That’s obviously not true.” She gestured between them, but he didn’t know what she meant. “You’re here, doing this, trying to convince me to do the right thing. What happened in the Marines… you did what you had to.”
“That’s no excuse.” Now he was angry. Why couldn’t she understand? Why wouldn’t she just let it be? She should leave him to his frozenness, his hardened shell—it was the only thing that held him together.
“It’s not an excuse—it’s the truth.” She edged even closer, dangerously close. Close enough to reach out and kiss, but he’d already done that, and it had almost destroyed him.
“You don’t want me, Grace. I’m not good enough for you.”
She shook her head, and the tears were coming back again. He hated seeing them, even as they baffled him.
“The truth is, I’m not good enough for you,” she said. “You’ve served your country, doing something brave and dangerous, even as it tore you apart. You sacrificed everything inside you for a cause greater than yourself. You’re brave and selfless in a way I can only wish I’ll be, when my turn comes.” The tears were sliding down her cheeks, and he could hardly stand it. His wolf—the one good and decent part of him still left—was howling at him, ready to tear him to shreds for not going to her. For not doing everything he could to wipe away those tears.
“Grace.” He could hear the begging in it.
She closed the gap between them and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. “I want you like I’ve never wanted any man in my life,” she whispered.
She pressed her soft lips to his… and his body unlocked. He pulled her delicate form against him, all sweet softness and blueberries-and-cream scent filling his head. His mouth devoured hers, his wolf demanding even more. His hands were everywhere, skimming the thin lines and soft curves and delicious heat of her body. He lifted her from the floor, her small body melting into his, her toes barely kissing the floor as he carried her quickly backward to the bed. His wolf was howling to fulfill that fantasy of hers—throw her to the bed and ravish her body—but he hesitated, holding her while hovering at the edge of the mattress. If he made love to her, he couldn’t possibly kill her father. And assassinating the Senator was something he might yet have to do. He couldn’t have one without losing the other… but at this moment, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Because she was making him feel alive—dangerously, gloriously alive—and that might pull apart all the pieces of him… but there was nothing on earth he wanted more.
He kissed her again, rough and demanding, and carried her back onto the bed. Then he was covering her body with his—she was lost underneath him, squirming at his every touch, rocketing his erection to full strength in seconds. He lifted his mouth away from the demands he was making of hers long enough to rip open her blouse. The soft, silky fabric gave way under his fingers. She gasped, but it was filled with pleasure. He shifted one claw, just enough to slice free the front of her bra. Her eyes were wide now, her chest heaving, and those perfectly rounded breasts were calling to him with their tightly puckered nipples. He dove in, hands and mouth feasting upon them. She made a mewling sound, like a kitten, that went straight to his cock and turned his kneading of her breasts even more rough. He bit down on her tight nipples, making her cry out, and satisfaction coursed through him. He yearned to take her fast and hard. Now.
His need for her was so great, he almost didn’t hear her words.
“Jared,” she gasped. “Jared!”
He jerked back. “What?” His breath was heaving, but a cool spike of fear lanced through him. “Are you okay?” Not waiting for an answer, he scanned her body. Red marks were blossoming where his hold on her creamy white flesh had been too strong. “Oh God…” He lifted himself off her completely. “Grace… are you all right? Please tell me you’re all right.” The fear running through him—that he’d hurt her—turned every muscle to jelly. The only thing keeping him on the bed, next to her, was the desperate need to hear from her own lips that she was… that he hadn’t…
She groaned and heaved up to sitting, then rolled closer to wrap her arms around his neck. Her skirt rode up as her leg hooked over his hip. It took him a second to realize that her groan was frustration, not pain.
“For God’s sake, Jared… don’t stop.” Her beautiful blue eyes blazed with heat as she stared into his, her panting breath washing over him. “I just had to tell you something first.”
“Tell me something?” His hands had found her again without him even thinking about it, but they were holding her gently now. Skimming her back, gliding over her hip, but softly, softly… he didn’t care what her fantasies were, he wasn’t losing control like that again.
“I just… needed to tell you…” She was leaning into him, clenching her small hands on his shoulders to leverage closer. Her bare chest rubbed against the cotton of his shirt, and he ached to have her skin-to-skin. But he wasn’t moving a muscle in that regard, not until she got out what she was trying to say.
He threaded one hand into her hair. “What is it, Grace?”
She swallowed and ducked her head, which meant she was staring at the point where their bodies touched. “It’s just that this is my first time. So… you should probably know that.”
“Your first…?” He pulled back. Did she mean… “You’re a virgin?” He peered down at her, trying to catch her gaze. She wouldn’t look at him. “Jesus, Grace! You don’t want me to be your first—”
Her head whipped up. “Don’t start with that again. I absolutely want you to be my first!”
“But… I…” His brow wrinkled up. “I’m sorry, Grace, but you’re a gorgeous woman. You’re smart and vivacious and… alive. Why…” But he stopped—because that wasn’t the right question to ask.
The tight anger on her face told him he figured that out about five words too late.
“I’d like to see you try to have sex when you’re the Senator’s daughter and everyone watches your every move!” She was angry, but he could hear the hurt. She pushed away from him, falling back on the bed. “Not to mention that my damn wolf comes out every time I get…” She pressed her lips together, blushing furiously, sneaking a glance at him, then turning her back on him.
“Hang on, now.” He reached for her, but by the time he pulled her back, tears were already leaking from the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I was just… surprised. What is this about your wolf?” He slid closer on the bed, drawing her against his body again. It sent a flood of relief through him, a melting feeling like he hadn’t felt since… since Avery. But he shoved that thought aside, focusing on the tearful anger on Grace’s face as she cuddled into him, head ducked, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. He bent to kiss the top of her head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her beautiful hair. The knot she’d tied in the back was slightly askew from their brief tumble.
“Tell me about it, Grace,” he said softly.
<
br /> “It’s not like I’ve never…” She swallowed.
He waited. His body was still dying to ravish hers, but he would wait forever for her to say what she needed to. And if this really was her first time… there was no way in hell he was rushing any part of it.
She laid a hand flat on his chest, over his thudding heart. “It’s not like I’ve never climaxed before… if making love to my vibrator counts. But somehow that’s different.”
He smiled. “Well… I’m glad to hear that, actually.”
One side of her mouth quirked up, and she snuck a look at him, then went back to staring at his chest. Her hands were in motion now, and it was driving him crazy.
“When I’m with a man,” she whispered, “it’s too intense. Too exciting. My wolf wants to come out.”
“And you have a hard time controlling it in the first place.”
Her eyes were soft and round when she looked up. “I didn’t want you to be surprised, you know, in case I shifted in the middle of…” She swallowed. “I’ve never gotten very far with a man before. A few times… well, it just scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t take the chance.”
He nodded, and a warmth spread through him. He was going to be her first, and not just with sex. With the freedom to embrace who she really was. He leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips, then pulled back, smiling. It was a strange feeling, this grin that she kept pulling out of him, but he couldn’t help it.
“Most wolves have to learn how to control themselves early on, when they’re teenagers,” he said. “But you haven’t had anyone to help you. Plus you’ve probably been trying to hold your wolf back most of the time.” He ran his finger along the edge of her hair to the knot in back. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing you can do that will hurt me. Or surprise me.”
“What if my claws come out?” Her breathing sped up a little as he started pulling pins from her hair, working the long spill of it loose.
