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“Your eyes.”
“What about them?” I don’t let go of her neck, as if I can anchor her to me.
“They flashed red. Your wolf came out.”
I’m not surprised by this because he is just as demented in his need to have her as I am.
“Because you’re ours.”
I press my lips to her forehead before reluctantly letting her go. I don’t want to. I want to take her into the bedroom and fuck her, but I need to know what Ayden knows. If there is more danger coming for Dove, I have to be aware.
Reluctantly, I pull back from her. “Where are your boots?”
“He wants to talk to you. Not me.”
“Where I go, you go.”
“That’s a little crazy,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“When it comes to you, I am crazy,” I admit.
“That’s mutual.” She kisses the palm of my hand and glances around. “They’re by the door.”
I step back, enjoying how she clings to my hand until she has no choice but to let go of me so I can grab her boots and she can pull up her jeans.
“It doesn’t seem fair that I got my happy ending and you didn’t.”
“You want to play with my cock, Dove?” I can’t stop the amused tone from vibrating through my words.
“I want to play with every part of you.”
That makes warmth spread through me. She wants me as much as I want her, and it makes me want the bond between us to happen sooner rather than later.
“You can play when we get back from talking to the kid.”
The grumbling sound she makes has me smirking as I gesture for her to sit on the edge of the couch.
“I can put my boots on,” she says.
“I know, but I’m pretty sure I broke your ribs last night. I don’t want you bending over and hurting yourself more.”
“What if I want you to bend me over?”
Heat fills my cock as her eyebrows dance suggestively. The image that fills my mind is sinful and dirty, and if she wasn’t injured, I would already have her pressed into the cushions to take me.
It takes all my willpower not to, instead mumbling, “Don’t tempt me, my little bird. I only have so much restraint. Sit.”
She doesn’t argue, settling onto the cushions and waiting while I lift her foot. The smirk she’s wearing forces me to lower my gaze so I don’t act on my impulses.
I can feel her eyes on me, though I focus on the slim lines of her ankles as I fix her sock before guiding her foot into the boot. I like taking care of her, and I know this isn’t the first time I have.
An image flashes through my mind of a younger Dove as I lift a fork to her mouth, feeding her.
It’s gone as soon as it appears, flashing like a camera, and I can’t hold on to it.
“Jackson?”
I realize I’ve paused; her other foot is still lifted and her boot is half on. “Fuck. I saw something.”
