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It’s only partly true. The satisfaction of picking her up, carrying her to the sofa, and straddling her hips to hold her down is far too delicious to deny. I catch her wrists and hold them together to wind the duct tape around them.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Abe
I scent real fear on Lauren now, and it nearly knocks me on my ass. My wolf is going berserk–he wants me to soothe her.
I want to spread her legs and take care of her other needs. The kind that involves her choking out my name on a scream of pleasure.
But neither of those things can happen right now.
I wrap the tape as quickly and efficiently as I can. “Don’t freak, Lauren. I mean, of course, you’re going to freak because I’m taping your wrists and ankles together, but I swear to fate, I’m not going to hurt you. You just won’t remember what happened tonight.”
Worst thing to say, apparently.
Lauren loses her shit and headbutts me. It doesn’t hurt, but her eyes water, which guts my wolf. I sit her up and crouch at her feet to wrap her ankles together with the tape while she beats me around the head and shoulders with her bound hands.
I finish taping and catch her wrists. “Hey,” I say softly, like I’m quieting a spooked horse. “That doesn’t hurt me. You’re just hurting yourself.”
I press her hands down to her lap. “You’ll be okay, Pearls. I promise.”
I’m not even sure if my promise is true. I mean, what do I know about getting a human’s mind wiped? I’ve never even met a vampire, much less hired one to take care of a mess I made.
If I hadn’t already fucked up and been told to stay away from Lauren Sterling, I might risk punishment and take her to the alpha right now. Ask him to clean up my mess and trust that he would do it right.
But that’s not an option. Doing so could get me banished from the pack. And banishment for a species like ours would be condemnation to a life not worth living. Just ask Asher, whose dad was banished when he was ten.
I hear a ding from the back pocket of Lauren’s jean shorts, and I fish her phone out. It’s a text from Lincoln:
Where are you? Are you okay?
Another spike of misgiving runs through me. Why did he ask that? Is she depressed? Suicidal? What is going on with this enigmatic female?
Lauren looks at me, then her eyes widen and she gasps. “The letter!” There’s a real panic in her voice. “Where is the letter?”
“What letter?”
Her voice raises to a shriek, “Where is the letter from my mom?”
I try to figure out where her mind is. “The paper? The paper that was in your hand when you tried to jump off the cliff?“
“I didn’t jump off the cliff! This huge fucking wolf tried to attack me, and I fell.” She tries to stand up, teeters, and I catch her before she topples. “I need that letter!”
“I didn’t attack you–I tried to keep you from jumping.” I search her pockets, ignoring the surge of lust that kicks through me at having my hands all over her hips, but there’s nothing there. “You must’ve dropped it.”
“No.” She shakes her head vigorously. Her voice sounds strangled “It can’t be gone. I’m telling you, Abe, I need that letter! Let me go–I have to find it!”
I stare at her. This night couldn’t get any more fucked.
If her scent hadn’t turned so metallic, if I couldn’t hear the timbre of tears in her voice, I might be able to ignore her pleas. But she’s clearly desperate.
“What’s in the letter, Pearls? Who is it from?” A ripple of jealousy rolls through me as I consider it might be from a boyfriend back home.
“It’s the last letter my mother wrote to me before she died.”
I go still.
Oh damn. I had no idea her mom was dead. That’s heavy as fuck. I’ve been such a royal dick to this girl, thinking she was so privileged, and she’s suffered a huge loss. Maybe recently. One so much greater than I’ve ever known. One no teenager should suffer.
