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FOURTEEN
Zed’seyes burned into me as I sat down, then focused back on the TV screen. I didn’t know him well enough to know what he was thinking, but given the tenseness in his shoulders, I was guessing either guilt or anger. Experience told me that with a man, it was probably anger, but something about the time I’d spent with Zed told me it was probably guilt.
“Thanks for the cake. That was really sweet of you,” I said quietly, setting his cake on the couch between us before settling down on the opposite side of the furniture from him. My fork dug into my cake, and I took a bite.
Shit, it was so damn incredible. I had to fight not to groan.
His fists were clenched at his side, and his erection stood up like a damned flagpole pushing against the sweats he had on.
After shoveling a few bites in, I slowed down long enough to ask, “What are we watching?”
Zed still hadn’t touched his cake, or budged.
And I still didn’t know if it was anger, or horniness.
He didn’t answer, so I ate in silence for a few more minutes, finishing off my slice of cake while I debated whether or not I was going to ask him what exactly was making him so stiff. He’d made me a cake, and that at least earned him the benefit of the doubt in the form of a question.
“Are you clenching your fists because you want to hit me right now, or because you’re horny?” I asked.
His body went still.
Utterly, terrifyingly still.
My stomach clenched a bit, and the cake turned to sand in my mouth.
His hands unclenched and he turned to face me head-on. His eyes burned into my soul. “If I ever hurt you, in any way, my packmates would rip my skin from my fucking body, and I would deserve it. I don’t know what happened to make you think that’s what might be going through my mind, but that would never cross my thoughts for a second. I’ve been trying like hell not to drag you into my arms and fuck you.”
Instinct told me not to believe his words, but the logical parts of me did believe them, because he’d had so many chances to hurt me and hadn’t taken advantage of any of them.
And… it made me feel good.
So when he turned back to the TV, body still crazy tense, I grabbed his plate of cake off the couch and got to work on it. I was stuffed to the point of almost being sick, but I just couldn’t stop eating it.
When I’d finished that slice too, I set the plates and forks down on the floor beside my feet, and looked back at Zed, contemplative.
I’d been avoiding him for way too long, hiding away from the possibilities, but now… well, I didn’t want to hide anymore.
And I was horny, and he was horny, and he’d made me cake.
So I scooted closer and grabbed the remote, pressing the button to shut it off. The moment the noise and lights died, the air in the room seemed to become hotter, and heavier.
I’d have to be careful with how I told him I wanted to have sex, I thought. I had just asked him if he wanted to hit me, and he hadn’t seemed thrilled with it, which was understandable.
But I didn’t want to leave things like that.
“Sorry I ate your cake,” I remarked, not really sorry. “I can get you another piece if you’re hungry.”
There was more silence. The way his jaw clenched and unclenched told me he was fighting some kind of urge—and he’d already told me he wanted to pull me into his arms and have his way with me. My own body flooded with more heat at the thought.
“Unless you’re hungry for something else,” I continued.
Zed’s eyes burned into mine.
There was the beginning of the response I’d been looking for.
“What are you saying?” he growled at me. His body was still crazy tense, the veins in his neck bulging a bit.
“If you’re still hungry, I can think of a pretty good dessert other than the cake on the table.” I shrugged my shoulders a bit. “That’s all.”
