Tricky slayer.
“What are you going to do now, Miss Bell?”
Stay just like this and enjoy? I could smell the pine and soap of his scent. Could hear the rasp of our breath intermingling. Could feel the heat and hardness of his body pressing against me.
“What would you like me to do?” I met his gaze, and the air around us thickened, charged with electricity.
Would he touch me?
I wanted him to touch me.
“You’re not ready for what I’d like you to do.” He searched my face as he reached between us, his actions belying his words...please, please...until he slowly pushed the hem of my tee over my navel, revealing every inch of damaged flesh.
He looked me over, and my stomach quivered. Heck, all of me quivered. He crawled down, down, and kissed one edge of the wound, then the other, and a moan left me.
Please. More.
But a moment passed, then another, and he merely returned to his former position, driving me crazy with his nearness but never doing anything to relieve the tension spiraling inside me.
“One more week of rest,” he said, his jaw clenched as if he’d had to force the words to leave his mouth. “Doctor’s orders.”
I shook my head. “I’ll ask Bronx and Frosty to train me.”
His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “They’ll say no. I’ll make sure of it.”
“At first, maybe.” Definitely. Everyone always followed Cole’s rules. Even other alpha males recognized a bigger, badder predator. “However, I have a secret weapon.”
He arched a brow. “And what’s that?”
“Sure you want to know?” I asked, rubbing my knees along his hips.
“Yes. Tell me.” His tone had gone low, gruff.
My knees slid higher, higher still, and he went utterly motionless, waiting to see what I would do next. I had two options. Try to seduce him into making out with me—the way he’s looking at me...I might actually succeed this time—or prove I wasn’t out for the count.
Sometimes I hated my priorities.
I planted my feet against his shoulders and pushed with all my might. He propelled backward, catching himself on his knees.
“With you? Distraction,” I purred.
Laughing, he stayed where he was and lifted my leg to place a soft kiss on my ankle. “I must be seriously disturbed, because I like when you rough me up.”
Heat spilled into my cheeks. “You make me sound like some kind of he-woman.”
He laughed again, and oh, it was a beautiful sound. Lately, he’d been so somber. “I also like when you blush.”
“Yes, well, I’ll bug Frosty and Bronx until they say yes.” Apparently my inquisitive personality was not charming to everyone. Go figure. “They’ll be so irritated by their lack of fortitude, they’ll throw me around like I’m a meat bag.”
“So? You’ll get a boo-boo I’ll have to kiss and make better. Problem, meet solution.”
I swallowed a laugh of my own and had to concentrate to adopt a stern expression. “I’ll let you kiss me better—if the boo-boo is on my butt.”
“Hmm. Kinky. This is a plan I can get behind... It’s a very nice behind.”
Tease! “Cole,” I said with a pout. “You can’t flirt with me like this and then do nothing about it.”
“Oh, I’ll do something about it.” The gruff, wanting tone was back. His gaze locked on my mouth, heating with awareness. “Once you’ve been cleared.”
So, seven more days of Cole’s china-doll treatment? Don’t whimper. “Mr. Ankh would have cleared me already if not for you and your protests.” I sat up and shifted my fingers through the silk of his hair. “I’m better now. I swear!”
“No, you’re finally on the road to better. But if you start training, that could slow your progress. Besides, you’re mine, Ali-gator, and you’re precious to me. I want you better. I need you better. And okay, yeah, I don’t like the thought of my friends putting their hands on you.”
Ali-gator? Really? I think I would have preferred something like, I don’t know, cuddlecakes. Anything was better than a comparison to an overgrown lizard, right?
And had he just called me his?
See? Melting...
“Bronx is secretly into Reeve and Frosty is bat-crap crazy for Kat. They wouldn’t try anything.” And really, before Cole, no boy had ever tried anything with me. I had no idea what made me so irresistible to him.
“Don’t care,” he said, leaning forward to nuzzle my neck. “I will put my boys in the hospital if they come near you. I don’t share my toys.”
I had to swallow a snort. “If anyone else called me their toy, internal organs would spill.”
“Agreed. Like I said, you’re mine. And, Ali, I’d love to be called your anything, especially your toy. I reeeally want you to play with me.”
Okay, I did snort. Hello, mixed signals. “I’d really like you to prove that, Cole Holland.”