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Her words are soft. They surprise me. She hasn’t mentioned her feelings either way about leaving. At least not that I’ve heard. Not that we’ve done a lot of talking.
Should I ask?
I clear my throat, stuffing my hands in my pockets. The moment passes and we reach the house in silence. The lights are on, the door unlocked, ready for our arrival. She goes up the front steps.
She gives a laugh, looking at me as she grabs the handle. “Do you mind if I take this one?”
“Be my guest,” I say.
She takes a deep breath, opening the door slowly. The glow of the fully lit foyer brightens her beautiful face.
She just stands there and stares. “Oh.”
Oh, what?
I glance down the hall. Neutral paint. Nice furniture. A spiral staircase.
“You like it?” I ask. I move my hand to her lower back, guiding her inside. I know we’re within the walls of the Hamlet, but I still prefer her inside a building with the door closed and locked when she’s on my watch.
She moves like she’s in a dream. She still hasn’t spoken. I close the door behind us and follow her. “It’s…nice?”
I don’t see what she sees because by the time we get to the owner’s suite upstairs, there are tears in her eyes. I look around. A silver and mirrored headboard with matching nightstands and dressers. Pale blue-gray walls. Dove-gray bedding. Thick carpet under our feet.
She reaches out, brushing her fingertips over the soft looking gray blanket folded over the foot of the bed.
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “Ah—do you like it? Or are you upset or something?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s perfect.”
“Why the tears?”
“No reason.” She dabs at her eyes. Shakes her head again, like she can force her thoughts away. She takes a deep breath while she appears to be steeling her nerves and locks those blue eyes on mine. My chest tightens in anticipation. “I have a favor to ask you.”
She goes to sit down. Her dress is short, a detail that caught my attention earlier but now captivates me as she takes a seat on the end of the bed, the silky material rising high on her thighs. I can almost see her panties. If she’s wearing any.
She slowly crosses her legs, giving me that glimpse I crave.
Pure white satin.
So sweet, so virginal. Her right leg hangs over her left and she rolls her foot lazily, the back of her shoe popping off her heel. Leaning back slightly, she pushes her breasts upward, nipples rising against that silky fabric, begging me to touch them.
Holding my gaze, she runs her hands over the covers. “Soft.”
The line I fought so hard to see a few days ago is now crystal clear. A thick red line of caution tape lays out before me over the soft gray wall-to-wall carpeting. Warning me in no uncertain terms: Savage, do not take one step toward that girl.
“What are you doing?” My voice comes out low, gravelly, an edge of danger creeping in. “What are you asking me for?”
“I haven’t asked for anything yet.” She pats the bed beside her, offering a seductive smile. “Come. Sit.”
Dragging my eyes away from her sexy legs, I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not? You can’t be scared of a little girl like me. Aren’t you supposed to be the big bad wolf? Your name is supposed to be Savage, after all.”
God, what I wouldn’t give to live up to that name right now. Cross the room and tear the delicate fabric of her dress, ripping it in two. Expose her breasts, her belly, her pussy hidden underneath those pretty white panties.
I shove my hands into my pockets. I have to turn away from her. I go to the window, gazing out into the night. My heated blood pulses through my body, my heart races. I count who I can see of my men to make my heart rate slow. A brother by a brick post at the entrance of the driveway. One over by the big oak tree. Another brother deeper in the wooded lot between this house and the next.
I stand there, still staring out the window. I can’t face her. I’m afraid I might tear that dress off. “Tell me what you’re asking for. And why.”
