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Down on one knee with his hand extended, Kodiak brushes a thumb along Leonid’s temple. That quick, barely-there touch shouldn’t affect me the way it does. But I can’t help it. I feel it all the way to the ache in my soul.
I’m a sucker for tender moments, and to glimpse something like that from someone like Kodiak is remarkable and precious, like witnessing a never-before-seen wonder of the world.
Sensing my wide-eyed stare, he pulls back and meets my gaze.
He says so much in that single look. He accuses me of spying on his private moment. He questions me about how Leonid fell asleep in my arms. And he scolds me for being in here after I told him I was drying my hair. All without words.
With a crook of my finger, I gesture for him to join me in the hall.
He dims the light and breezes past me, giving me the same finger motion to follow.
I fall into step with him, through the house, up the stairs, and into the room we share.
“What happened?” He shuts the door and leans against it.
“While drying my hair by the stove, I heard a woman’s voice.” My chest pangs. “A moan.”
His jaw is sculpted ice, his voice cracking on multiple bass notes. “A video.”
“How many videos are there?”
“What did you see?”
“Gretchen. Wolf’s mother.”
“And?”
Is he baiting me? Trying to figure out what I saw before he tells me anything? Does that mean there’s more than one video?
I decide to test it. “Wolf was behind the camera, filming his mother having sex with Denver.”
“Try again.”
“She and Denver had a sexual relationship,” I say with unconfirmed conviction.
“There’s no video of that.”
“So they never had sex?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“No, you didn’t. You talk in circles and don’t say anything!”
“What did you see on the video?”
“You and Gretchen—”
“The truth.” A grizzly sound pushes past his clenched teeth. “Tell me.”
Beneath his shirt, well-defined shoulders flex as he rolls them as if readying himself for a physical altercation. Even through his joggers, I can make out divots and tendons, every inch of his strong body clenching for battle.
He’s terrifying to behold.
Wouldn’t it be something to be cherished, idolized, and protected by a creature like Kodiak Strakh? Monty’s that for me. But he’s not this. Something tells me if Kodiak claimed a woman, he would burn down the world before walking away from her or his unborn child.
“Did you look at him like that?” His question arrives on a hostile growl.
“What? Who?”
“Tonight. Did you look at Leo the way you’re looking at me?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I swallow, fearing the terrible truth in his suggestion.
“Come here.” He snaps his fingers and points to the spot in front of him.
Of course, I won’t obey. But I can’t pretend the urge to jump on his command doesn’t flog me.
The chemistry between us is flammable, hiking the temperature in the room. I have a deep, sudden desire to trust him, and that is…well, it’s unbelievably shocking and faulty and dangerous.
After weeks of his unresponsive, cold-shoulder detachment, the nuclear look he blasts my way burns me into ash.
I shuffle backward as my heart tries to ram out of my chest. The backs of my legs hit the bed, and I wheel my arms, losing balance.
In a blink, he’s a steel wall, hard and heavy, slamming into me and taking us both to the mattress.
30
Frankie
—
“Get off!” I punch Kodiak wherever I can reach. Total waste of effort in my imprisoned position beneath him.
“What was Leo doing when you found him watching that video?”
“Ask him yourself.” I pound my fists uselessly against him.
“Did he have his cock out?” His body sinks onto mine, crushing every cell, bone, and muscle. “Did you help him come?”
I’m trapped with no space to push back, no time to analyze, and nothing between us but a layer of fabric and a new level of intimacy.
“Did you fuck him?” His forehead meets mine, and our breaths dance, acclimate, and fuse so tightly I can’t think.
“No.” I turn my mouth away, denying the kiss he tries to steal. “Kodiak—”
“No one calls me that.”
“Kody. Please, let me go.”
“Can’t do that.” He rubs his cheek along mine, whiskers to skin. A beast marking its mate.
“Stop it.” I choke down a moan and try to squirm out from beneath him.
My struggling gives him an opening, allowing his hips to push deeper into the cradle of mine, his weight forcing my thighs farther apart, and now, I know exactly how his body responds to our proximity.
He’s hard and huge and heavy. Everywhere.
How would he feel against me if we removed our clothes? If our hands were free to caress and the thick length of him lay unobstructed against my wet heat?
I shouldn’t be wet. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this, let alone be turned on by a man who would sooner kill me than fuck me. But some tiny, stupid part of me believes he won’t hurt me without provocation. Especially not when he holds me like this. With his arms clenched around me and his nose beneath my ear, he seems content to just lie here and let his erection throb against my thigh.
