Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge Book 1)

by T. S. Joyce

  “Your mom sounds like a tough lady.”

  “She is.”

  Gentry relaxed back into his chair and sighed. “Nothing touches my heart, Blaire. You don’t have to worry about me. Blood is a part of my life. Pain, too. I was used to it before I could even walk. It was just a barfight, nothing dramatic.”

  “Okay,” she said, shutting down like he’d shut down.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes before he sighed, which tapered into a feral sound as he leaned forward. He dropped his leftover food into the bag on the floor and clasped his hands, then slid her a narrow-eyed glance. “I used to live here. The dynamics have changed. The leadership in the town has shifted, and they don’t appreciate me being back. I’m a threat, so…” He gestured to his face.

  “So they had to put you in your place.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That blows.”

  He huffed a breath in an almost-laugh. “Everything about this place blows. My wo—” Gentry swallowed down whatever word he was going to say and tried again. “I’m ready to move on already, and I just got here. I like to roam.”

  “Ramblin’ man.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m the opposite of you, Gentry Striker. I will dig my roots so hard and so deep into a place I will grow stagnant and not move or breathe or think for years.”

  “But you’re here.”

  She gave him a tired smile. “I’m trying to break my roots.”

  “Why?”

  “Divorce.”

  “Oh, shit. When?”

  “A year ago.”

  “So you’re still in the man-hating phase then,” he said with a baiting smile.

  Blaire giggled. She couldn’t help it. This wasn’t funny at all, but… “Yeah, I guess I am. You suck less than the other boys, though.”

  “So far.”

  “Yeah, you still have a whole week to make me hate you. Better get to practicing.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Uuuuh, you could ignore me. You could slowly grow colder and more distant until you barely look at me. You could call me names. You could make me feel invisible.”

  Gentry’s lip curled up in a terrifying grimace. Just a second, and then it was gone, as if it had never been there before. But she’d seen it, and the feral expression had lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

  “Is that what your ex did?”

  Blaire inhaled deeply and nodded. “Pretty lame. I always thought the only way I would ever consider divorce was if he hit me or he cheated. Our break was quiet, though. No drama. He just gave me the papers one day, and after the shock wore off, we both just…left. We’d been together since we were kids, and married young. When we divorced, he told me he didn’t know if he ever loved me, or if he just needed someone to love him like I did when we were younger. He told me he didn’t need that anymore. Didn’t need me. He didn’t want kids, and that made it worse because I want to be a mom. We hugged goodbye the day he moved out of the house. No yelling, no name-calling. It was like two roommates going on with their lives. Only he moved on, and I grew my roots deeper. Clung to the house and all our pictures. All of our memories. I dug my claws into work so it would distract me from the ache, and at some point, I lost myself completely. So here I am in Rangeley…”

  “Trying to find yourself again,” Gentry finished in a deep rumble.

  She nodded and stared at the flickering fire. “Yep.”

  “That’s why you said ‘no’ when I asked you to leave.”

  “Yeah, I kind of need this week.”

  Gentry cracked his knuckles and shook his head. He gave her a sideways glance, and she could’ve sworn his green eyes were brighter somehow. “There are things you don’t understand here. Things under the surface.”

  “Danger?”

  He dipped his chin once. “If you stay, you listen if I ask you to do stuff, no questions asked.”

  She stiffened at that. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

  “I bet you don’t. I don’t like telling people what to do. It’s why I left this place when I was a kid. I was supposed to be a leader here.”

  “Like the mayor?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Something like that. I won’t try and boss you around, Blaire, but I’m not very popular in town right now. You’re staying at my inn, and I don’t want any of the tension to blow back on you. So please, if I ask you to do something, just do it. Okay?”

  Blaire lifted her attention to the cuts and bruises on the left side of his face. There was no reason to trust him, but Gentry had made sure she’d stayed in the cabin tonight instead of going out to get food, and look what had happened to him. She believed he was protecting her in some confusing way, even though he had no reason to. And now, he was asking her to trust him.

  “Okay,” she agreed quietly.

  She didn’t understand what was happening here in Rangeley, but she had a bone-deep instinct that Gentry had his finger on the pulse of this town. He was offering to keep her out of trouble, and all the lust she felt toward him gave way just a little to something more. In this moment, with his bright green eyes locked on her, a soft expression on his usually hard face, one of her thin heartstrings that had somehow survived her ex latched tentatively to Gentry.

  This was the most terrifying moment of her life. She didn’t want another break, and getting attached to a man was setting her up for just that. This had been fun when she’d just been turned on by him, but this conversation had changed the winds and sent their little boat crashing sideways into a wave.

  “I should go,” she murmured, trying to hold a tight smile.

  Gentry’s eyebrows lowered into a troubled expression, but he nodded. “Probably best.”

  “Goodnight, Gentry,” she said, standing. She set the wadded-up food wrapper in the bag and moved to take the blanket off her shoulders, but Gentry was there so fast she gasped. His hands pressed on her shoulders, keeping the blanket in place.

  “Bring it back later when you decide to wear a damn jacket outside.” His voice was too gruff, too rough, too low.

  He pressed his body against hers, and his hands tightened slightly on her shoulders. The flames from the hearth heated her front while Gentry warmed her back. God, she should be running from him. She should be sprinting to her car and peeling out of here, out of this town, out of the reach of this tempting man.

  But her body, the traitor, stood there frozen and wanting. With his cheek, Gentry pushed her head to the side gently, then lowered his mouth to her neck and brushed it there as soft as a butterfly kiss. Parting her lips, Blaire let off a helpless sound and rolled her eyes closed against how good it felt to be touched by a man again.

  Gentry inhaled deeply right at her hair line. The short whiskers on his jaw raised gooseflesh up her body. He was teasing with a kiss on her neck, letting his lips touch her, then easing away. He scraped his facial scruff across her sensitive skin, then eased away again. His hands slid from her shoulders down her back to her hips. Slowly, he pulled the blanket from her and pressed his body more firmly against her back. And oh, she could feel his excitement against her spine. A soft noise whispered from his throat that sounded animalistic. She liked it.

  Gentry slid his left hand around her hipbone, brushing his fingertips just under the hem of her shirt, dragging fire where his skin touched hers. She inhaled sharply and rolled back against him instinctively. The second she moved against him, he grabbed her hard, digging his fingers into her skin. Rough man, just like she knew he would be.

  “Don’t tempt me to take this too far tonight, Trouble,” he murmured against her neck.

  Ooooh he was a sexy talker, teasing her, making promises, hinting that he had plans. She wanted to tempt him, so she rolled her body back against his again.

  Gentry’s hand slid smoothly up her shirt and cupped her breast, and dear goodness nothing had felt better. Nothing in her entire life. He kneaded her gently, and with his other hand, he brushed his fingertip
s just under the elastic of her waistband.

  “Tell me to stop, Trouble,” he dared her, then plucked gently against her neck with his lips. He still hadn’t kissed her. Only teased with his mouth.

  They should stop. She was supposed to be bolting out the door and putting space between them before she fell harder. Even if she felt like she knew him, and even if she trusted him in ways that made no sense, he was still a danger to her heart. But he was touching her, feeling her, working her into an inferno. Warmth pooled in her belly, and she was already wet from what he’d done to her body. Gentry was a man who knew how to touch a woman, and maybe she needed this.

  She should’ve told him to stop, but instead she cupped her hand over his and guided him down into her pants. Gentry wasn’t teasing anymore. He slid his finger right inside of her, then let off a shuddering breath as if it felt as good to him as it did to her. He pulled out and pushed back in, hitting her clit. Geez, this was everything. Her body was overheating from the flames in the hearth or from Gentry’s body warmth or from the fire he’d created inside of her. Maybe all three. Her sensitive nerve endings sparked like lightning every time he slid into her just right. She reached over her shoulder and gripped the back of his neck, holding him close as he worked her toward release. Almost there already.

  “Gentry,” she whispered, begging for something she didn’t understand. He was already giving her everything. “Oooh,” she moaned as he pushed into her again.

  His lips were back on her neck, just barely, brushing her skin, so close to a kiss. She’d never been withheld a kiss before. She loved and hated it. She wanted it, wanted him to lock onto her, wanted him to spin her around and devour her lips, but he didn’t.

  Orgasm blasted through her body suddenly, gripping around Gentry’s finger in fast, hard pulses of pleasure. She grasped the back of his neck hard, digging her nails in as she whimpered his name.

  Gentry pushed her forward fast, his hands strong and capable on her body, and before she knew it, she was bent over, legs locked and spread, hands splayed on the stone surface at knee-height in front of the fireplace. Behind her, the jingle of a belt sounded, directly followed by the quick snap of a button and rip of a zipper. Her orgasm pulsed on, even without his finger inside of her.

  “Fuck,” he muttered in a snarly voice. “You’re not ready for this. Hell, I’m not ready. Blaire, you need to leave.”

  She should. She should’ve left before they had any intimacy, but she hadn’t, and now she was in this, so worked up it was consuming her. “Are you going to take care of yourself when I’m gone?” She looked over her shoulder at him.

  “Yeah,” he answered gruffly. Gentry’s sweater was off, and his chiseled chest heaved with breath. His body was scarred, but tanned and smooth between what looked like slashes across his torso. His six-pack flexed with every breath, and his jeans were pushed gloriously low. The deep V of muscle led directly to his thick erection, swollen and ready. A wave of want took her, which was insane because she was still coming from what he’d done to her.

  His eyes were such a bright green right now. He was beautiful. A beautiful, scarred-up creature who was clearly dangerous, but who made her feel completely at ease somehow. “Can I watch?” Heat flushed her cheeks at her brash question. “I-I’ve never watched, you know…before.”

  Gentry’s blond brows winged up as he rested his hands on his hips. “You want to watch me get off.” It wasn’t a question but a semi-confused statement instead.

  Mortified, Blaire stood suddenly and strode for the door. “Forget it. It was silly. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Her fingertips brushed the door handle, but she was spun around before she could wrench it open. Gentry’s hand went around the back of her neck, and he pulled her to him. He leaned in fast. The second his lips touched hers, the fire in her body jacked up to magma-level heat. It was one part pain and two parts pleasure as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back. His lips moved against hers so skillfully she didn’t have time for first-kiss jitters. She hadn’t kissed anyone but her ex-husband since she was sixteen, but good grief, Gentry Striker was making this ridiculously easy on her. He was the leader, the aggressor. His hand clenched in her hair, and he turned her head where he wanted it, angled his face as his lips moved against hers. The man could kiss. Blaire stood there stunned at what was happening, at the insane reaction her body was having to him. He pulled away far enough to ease his jeans down his hips, and his bright white smile was nothing shy of wicked. And those dang eyes looked a completely different shade of green now. They were like the clearest ocean green, but with an inner glow that was striking in the soft light.

  She reached for his shaft, but he shook his head slowly. “You said you wanted to watch. You want to help?” He flicked his gaze to her crotch, then back to her. “Let me watch you, too.”

  Oh, he looked like a bad boy right now. He locked one arm beside her head and pulled a slow stroke of his erection, eyes daring her to look down.

  “But…the lights are on,” she murmured.

  His smile turned devilish in an instant. “Do you only touch yourself in the dark, Trouble?”

  “Uh, yes. Doesn’t everyone?”

  He chuckled a deep, dark sound and leaned forward, sucked her neck hard. “No,” he said against her neck before he eased back and pulled two more smooth strokes of his dick. “There’s no shame in touching yourself.”

  Gentry was sexy as frick right now, pardon her French. He was dang near hypnotizing her with the way the head of his swollen cock pressed through the fist he made. He would feel so good inside of her. So big. Gosh, why did she feel so wild with him? This wasn’t like her to fool around with a guy she had no chance at something long term with, but here she was, feeling utterly reckless and wanting everything from him before he closed down on her. And he would. He would close down tomorrow because that’s what men did. But tonight, she wanted to shed her good girl cloak and be rebellious for once in her life.

  With a squeak, she closed her eyes and slid her hand down the front of her pants.

  “Eyes open, Trouble, or you’ll miss it. You wanted the end, right? You want to watch me finish. You want to see the end because you pretend you’re a clean girl, but deep down you like the mess.”

  Her cheeks burned as she pushed her finger into herself, but she did ease her eyes open.

  “Stop making that face. Feels good to me, feels good to you. I think you look sexy as fuck taking care of yourself. You’re teaching me the pace you like. Put on a good show so I know how to take care of you. Ffffuck,” he said on a breath as his hips bucked.

  Beside her, his hand made a fist against the door and his arm shook. He was trying to keep it together, trying to make her feel safe in this moment they were sharing, but it was getting him off. Sexy man.

  His bicep flexed as he slid his hand up and down his shaft faster. He was right. There was no shame in them spending this moment together. They were both consenting adults, and he wasn’t making her feel weird about this, so why should she? Plus, watching him do this was a huge turn-on. Maybe it was the sexiest thing she’d ever been a part of, and she didn’t want to waste precious seconds of it on shame.

  Blaire gripped his arm next to her face and rocked her head back as she matched his pace. There was something so intimate about doing this with Gentry, completely vulnerable, eyes locked on each other’s, breath racing, connected in ways she didn’t understand but didn’t want to question right now.

  “Fuck,” he huffed out, pressing his forehead against hers. “I want to be inside of you so bad right now.”

  Okay. She shoved one side of her pants down, but he gripped her wrist and stopped her. “Don’t, or I won’t be able to stop myself. We can’t do that. I’m not even supposed to kiss you.”

  “Wait, what?” she asked, trying to clear the fog from her mind. Not allowed to kiss her?

  He grunted and shoved her shirt upward, exposing her breasts, and now the fog wa
s back in her head but thicker.

  “Watch,” he growled out.

  Blaire looked down in time to see him push into his hand, hips bucking and twitching, as creamy warmth streamed from the head of his cock and painted her stomach. He reared back and pushed into his fist again, and there was more warmth, and then more and more.

  Between the focused look on his face as he stared hungrily at her breasts, and the way he was emptying himself onto her belly, this was the most erotic thing she’d ever witnessed.

  It was so mind-numbingly hot, she had completely forgotten about taking care of herself, but Gentry pulled her hand away and then slid his hand into her panties again and pushed two fingers into her this time. He was slow and steady until he had her writhing against him. His lips pressed against hers, and he swallowed her moans as she came again.

  Gentry smiled against her lips, and though she couldn’t see it, only feel it, Blaire knew without a shadow of a doubt it was a cocky, wicked grin that would probably melt her panties all over again. With a spent sigh, she pushed her shirt down to her hips and sagged against him. Right about now, she felt like a noodle. A part of her expected Gentry to bolt, or push her out the door immediately. Matt wasn’t a cuddler and escaped her as fast as possible after sex, but Gentry didn’t seem to mind staying here in the moment. He held her so tenderly she didn’t understand.

  Slowly, she slid her arms around his shoulders and just stood there in his warm embrace, frowning at the flames in the hearth behind him and wondering if this was for real. Wondering if she hadn’t just dreamed all of this.

  Gentry, this almost-stranger, had just given her the single most beautiful and intimate experience, and now this rough-and-tumble, scarred-up, bright-eyed, bar-fighting, snarly man was holding her like she was as fragile as dandelion fluff. And was that his lips against the top of her head? She repaid him in kind by pressing a gentle kiss against the tripping pulse in his throat. His heart was pounding fast when she pressed her palm over the left side of his chest. She smiled and eased back so she could see his eyes, but he had them averted. And from this angle, they looked odd. Too bright, and his face was twisted up in a wild look she didn’t understand. Perhaps it was a trick of the sconce lighting and flickering flames.