It looked like there would be a lot of cold showers in her future, and a lot of hoping he was a patient, understanding sort of person. He had to know the sort of effect he had on women. As long as he was kind. She could only hope that he would be kind.
She could also hope he’d throw the door open, storm over to her bed and…
And do all the things she hadn’t done before. Aside from that one clumsy, ill-advised experience ventured into for the sake of being able to say she’d done it, she had nothing else to fall back on. No experience. He would laugh at her if he knew she’d only ever slept with one guy back in college.
Which was why she couldn’t imagine what she’d want to Sledge to do if he were to burst into her room and find her there, alone in bed.
She could imagine what she wanted to do to him, however. She could imagine that in pretty vivid detail.
And she was in the middle of imagining those vivid details when the door did fly open, striking the wall next to it and bouncing back.
She sat bolt upright, clutching the blanket up under her chin, her heart in her throat. There he was, standing in the doorway, backlit by the light in the hall. It turned him into nothing more than a silhouette—a very large, very muscular silhouette. A thing of beauty, of raw, primal strength.
He only added to the illusion when he grunted. “Come.” He tore across the room, pulling her out of bed. The grip on her arms was tight, without the gentleness he’d shown before. He practically threw her into the bathroom and followed, then closed the door behind them.
She didn’t know which end was up. “What are you doing?” she whispered, mortified. The horrifying thought of what would’ve happened if he’d found her doing what she was considering doing before he came in made her face flush painfully hot. At least it was dark, the lights out, so he couldn’t see.
He held a finger to his lips, moving past her to look out the window over the tub.
Her heart beat in double-time as reality started to sink in. Something must’ve happened. Maybe it was still happening. It took a second for her to realize the clacking sound in her ears was her teeth chattering.
He turned away from the window when he heard it too and was a lot gentler when he took her arms this time. “Sit down,” he whispered, closing the lid on the toilet and placing her there. If she were in her right mind, she would’ve been mortified by all of this.
Good thing she wasn’t in her right mind then but rather scared half out of her wits. She couldn’t be mortified at sitting on a toilet—albeit closed—in the presence of this living god when she was busy wondering if she’d live through the night.
“What’s happening?” she breathed, arms wrapped around herself. She wore a tank top and thin cotton shorts, her usual pajamas. Every inch of exposed skin broke out in goosebumps as she shivered in fear.
He shook his head once, going back to the window. He was tall enough that he didn’t need to step into the tub to see out, bending his body over the tub, instead. It wasn’t right, looking at him when he was busy looking at something else, as he was protecting her, but observing his beauty was better than collapsing in terror.
She watched the muscles of his face twitch and jump, highlighted by the moonlight pouring over him. It was moments like that when she wished she was an artist—a painter, a photographer, someone with the skill to capture him at that moment. She feared nothing she was capable of could do justice to how magnificent he was.
A voice called out from somewhere else in the house. “We’re clear!” Even locked in the bathroom, caught between fear and wonder and deep, burning lust, Marnie heard the disappointment in his voice.
Of course. If they’d spotted someone and caught them, the news would be very different. Sledge turned away from the window, his muscles relaxing. He heaved a sigh. “We came close.”
Somehow, she found her voice. “What are you talking about? What happened?”
“One of the cameras in the backyard caught someone trying to sneak in. The floodlights we installed today turned on and surprised them, but we weren’t quick enough to catch them, whoever they were. They were over the fence in no time.”
She couldn’t find her voice. Why couldn’t she speak? She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone completely dry. Somebody had come into her yard with the intention of getting into her house, somebody who might’ve known she was home this time.
Sledge fell to his knees in front of her, rubbing her arms briskly. His hands felt good against her bare skin, though she could barely register the simple pleasure of his touch when the whole world was falling apart. “You’re all right. You’re safe. They didn’t come anywhere near this house or anywhere near you. You’re all right. Okay? You’re safe.”
Slowly, his words got through to her. She was safe. Nobody got inside the house. They didn’t even come close enough to try thanks to the work Sledge and the others had done.
“Thank you,” she managed to breathe.
“I didn’t do anything,” he admitted, snickering. “I’m a little disappointed in myself, to be honest.”
“Why?”
“Because I should’ve been down there. I should’ve gone out with the others to chase down whoever it was.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because when I saw them on the monitor, the only thing I could think about was you.”
Her heart stopped beating for a second, and her breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t mean it the way it sounded. Could he? No, it was impossible. So what if he looked deep into her eyes when he said it? So what if he’d stopped rubbing her arms in favor of stroking them softly?
It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room, and everything around them went hazy. The only clear thing was him, Sledge, his face outlined by moonlight. It was magic; it was confusing; it was thrilling, the touch of his hands and the heat of his breath, the way his eyes shone even in the darkness, drawing her closer and closer until there was no choice but to give in.
She shuddered at the touch of his lips, so firm and knowing against her own. His taste was sweet and spicy, addictive, and the musky scent coming from his skin made her fingers curl into claws which kneaded his impossibly thick, firm shoulders.
It was like she’d turned into a different person, like his kiss unlocked something she never knew was there. She had never understood before what passion meant, desire, why people acted the way they did in movies and on TV, why a sudden kiss could lead to tumbling into bed or pulling each other down to the floor.
Now? She would’ve let him take her right there on the cold tile, or in the tub, or against the wall, or wherever he wanted—as many times as he wanted—because she wanted it too with a fierceness that surprised her almost as much as the intensity of the fire now blazing in her core.
And along with that passion came something else, something sweeter. Tenderness. Gentleness. Connection. Was this really happening to her? She thought her heart might burst from it.
“Sledge? Where are you?”
That was all it took for the moment to end, the approach of one of the team members. Just like that, Sledge was on his feet, leaving her unbalanced. She grabbed onto the sink to keep herself upright, and she could’ve laughed at herself when she realized she’d been sitting on the toilet the entire time.
How romantic. A first kiss on the toilet. At least moonlight had been involved. The whole thing struck her as so ridiculous she almost laughed.
Sledge ran his hands through his hair, straightening himself out before opening the door. She couldn’t help but feel like she’d missed an opportunity to touch that hair of his the way she wanted to. She didn’t dare hope for another chance even if she desperately wanted it.
Before he left her alone, he looked over his shoulder. “You okay?” Not exactly the tender words she longed to hear, and the heart which had just been soaring with joy sank like a deflating balloon.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she assured him. How was she supposed to act now? Cool? Like i
t didn’t matter that he’d just set her on fire?
Either he didn’t want to leave her alone, or he didn’t believe her. He hesitated for a second but left the room once Braxton entered her bedroom, where the two of them had a terse, muttered conversation before going out into the hall and downstairs.
It was only then that she could relax, leaning back against the toilet tank, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Good Lord, what was happening to her?
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Either she was just tired, or she was truly annoyed, or the fact that he’d been stupid enough to kiss her had broken down some invisible wall between them while building another, thicker wall—a wall made of uncertainty.
No matter the reason why, Marnie was now snarkier than ever as he drove them into the city where her office was located. It was barely dawn, but the roads and streets were increasingly congested the longer they drove. He thanked his lucky stars it wasn’t a very long ride because he wasn’t sure how long he wanted to be in the car alone with her.
Not that he didn’t want to be with her—far from it. He wanted that more than anything, but not under these circumstances, not when she was so clearly strained after the attempted break-in.
Her strain was nothing compared to his. Granted, he wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud—she would most definitely put him in his place with a sharp word or a filthy look. If only she understood that everything she felt, he sensed. Everything she suffered, he suffered right along with her: fear for her safety, more than anything, but also fear for her future, for what this meant for her business, her dreams.
He never knew until just now what it meant to care for someone more than he cared about himself, to know with complete certainty that he would lay down his life if it meant saving hers.
He only thought he had. There was a great deal of difference between understanding how it must feel and actually knowing it for himself.
They hadn’t been quick enough to catch whoever it was—whether this unknown person was prepared for them or not was anyone’s guess. Maybe they were, or maybe they were only testing to see what they could get away with. Maybe they’d been taken completely by surprise. There was no way of knowing, not really, not when they’d managed to escape.
If only he’d been out there as the wolf, waiting to pounce.
Then again, the wolf wasn’t as rational or forgiving as he was. The wolf might’ve decided to get to know the intruder more intimately, which certainly wouldn’t have made questioning whoever it was easy or even possible.
Not once he was done with them.
Now, they knew what they were up against. Now, there was a greater chance than ever of desperation leading whoever this was to vandalize Data Pro’s office.
Hence this early morning drive, even when he wondered if he’d be able to keep his eyes open long enough to get them there in one piece.
“Thank you for doing this,” she murmured. She was back to sounding the way she had before, at first. The clipped tone, the discomfort. Yes, there was definitely a wall between them now, and he could only blame himself for it. He shouldn’t have given in. He knew well enough by now to control the urgings of the wolf.
Though it was a different story when both he and his wolf wanted the same thing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to kiss her—and much more than that, to the point where he’d almost thanked Braxton for interrupting them.
Granted, his body hadn’t been so grateful. He’d walked around with a painful semi for a while after that, but it was for the best.
If it hadn’t been for Braxton coming in when he did, they might’ve ended up on the floor. And there wouldn’t be any coming back from what he’d wanted to do to her, not for the wolf.
Not for him either, his human self. It was hard enough to rid himself of the memory of her taste and her feel when all they did was kiss. There wouldn’t be any going back if he knew what it meant to be inside her, to have her beneath him, wrapped around him, clutching him inside and out.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter than ever, willing himself to push these thoughts aside. Was he trying to torture himself?
“You okay?” Marnie muttered from beside him. “It seems like you got angry all of a sudden.”
He willed himself to loosen his grip on the wheel. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“This might be hard for you to understand, but things like this aren’t exactly my idea of a good time.”
“Oh, that’s so funny because I totally love this. I had something just like it on my vision board.”
It was so absurd he couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay, fine. I get your point.”
“I was just concerned for you.”
“I said I get your point. Thank you for your concern.” Still, he chuckled to himself. She had a sense of humor hiding under all that intelligence—and why not? In his experience, it was always the smartest people who were funniest. Sometimes they just needed to be coaxed out of their shells was all.
Just then, all that mattered was reaching the office. She’d already described it to him as a sparse little space in a rehabilitated warehouse on the edge of the meatpacking district. “I was planning on finding a better place for us once we finished this project,” she explained as they rolled down the narrow streets between the tall, boxy buildings.
“You don’t have to explain,” he assured her.
“I’m just saying don’t expect much. Most of what we billed went to upgrading our infrastructure and security.”
“And that was the right way to go,” he nodded slowly. “Too many people make the mistake of getting the big, flashy office first. What matters is making sure your foundation is solid—finding the right people, getting the right systems in place. Then, you work on expanding.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she agreed. He liked the note of relief in her voice, like she cared about his opinion.
But just as quickly as her spirits picked up, they seemed to drop like a rock. “Not that it matters now.”
“It does matter.”
“Try telling that to Alex or Dan. I’m sure neither of them wants anything to do with Data Pro or me ever again.”
“I don’t know these guys, and I’m sure they’re good at what they do because I get the feeling you wouldn’t hire just anybody, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say they’re not the only people in the world who can do that kind of work. I’m sure you’ll be able to find other people, maybe even better people. You’ll see. You can rebuild.”
“If I even want to,” she whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. At least, that was her intention. She didn’t know just how good his hearing was.
There was a lot outside the building, attached to it, and he left the car there. His head was on a swivel as they stepped into the vestibule. Marnie entered a code into a keypad that unlocked the door to the lobby. “We’re on the eighth floor,” she murmured as they crossed to the elevators. Only a couple of lights shone, the rest extinguished at this time of the morning.
“Are there a lot of businesses in this building?” he asked.
“A few. I don’t really know any of the people who work there. We say hi when we pass in the hall or in the elevator.” She didn’t strike him as somebody who went out of her way to make friends with strangers. That was all right since he didn’t go out of his way either.
The office was only an office in the vaguest sense, a large room broken up by thick, wooden pillars—a callback to the building’s original use, along with the large, multi-paned windows and exposed brick walls. There were two rooms at the end, separated from the four desks in the main area by glass walls.
“Mine,” Marnie murmured, pointing to one, then the other. “Beth’s.”
There was a catch in her throat when she said it, like speaking her best friend’s name was enough to
bring her pain. He hated hearing it. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, even when he wasn’t sure why he was saying it. He hadn’t killed Beth. Why did he feel the need to apologize?
It sounded empty even to him, but he didn’t know any other way to respond.
“Thanks,” she whispered as they walked past the unused desks. “That was Carla’s desk. That was Michael’s. They’re dead now.” As if he didn’t know.
“That’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that.”
It wasn’t worth arguing over. If she didn’t get it yet, she’d understand eventually that she had nothing to do with their deaths. Not nearly enough time had passed yet.
“Do you mind if I take a look around Beth’s office?” he asked. “I won’t destroy anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I never said I was worried.”
“You were thinking it.”
She blinked hard, staring up at him. “What? How would you even know that?”
“It’s not rocket science, breaking down the way you think.” A smooth lie. He’d practically heard her subconscious cry out in protest.
“Right.” She eyed him up like she thought there might be something more to it than that but to his relief was willing to let it go. “Sure, go ahead. I want to get my things together.”
He went to the office next to hers and sat in the wheeled chair behind the desk. There were two framed pictures on the desk. Otherwise, Beth hadn’t left much of herself around her workspace. One of them was of a pair of older people sitting with their arms around each other.
In front of them was a cake full of candles—an anniversary cake? Probably. They looked happy, joyful. Beth’s parents, most likely.
The other photo wasn’t so difficult to break down. Two smiling girls, both of them with a glass of champagne in hand. One of them wore a smile wider and brighter than anything he’d seen from her so far. Her eyes were bright too, full of hope.
Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset Page 60