a warmth that rocked her hips closer to him.
“Morgan,” he warned.
The vision of her panicking like a lunatic outside when he’d kissed her earlier doused her like a cold shower and she log-rolled away. Fine. She’d ease into intimacy, but she didn’t have to be gracious about it. Stomping like a tiny, pissed-off elephant, she threw open the bedroom door and screamed when she ran into a wall of sexy man chest. Great goodness, he was fast. And when in hell had he taken off his shirt?
“Are you pouting?” he asked with the most irritating grin. She wanted to claw it off.
“No,” she said grumpily. “I’m actually glad we aren’t going to fool around because that sounds super boring and—”
His lips crashed onto hers and she rocketed backward in his arms. He lifted her, light as air, and tossed her on the bed. “You think you’re ready to fool around then?” His chest was heaving and his voice ragged. That playful smile from a moment ago didn’t exist anymore. In its place was desire.
Her breath hitched as she tried to remember how to breathe when he stalked closer. Scrambling backward, she squeaked, “I changed my mind.”
Latching a stony grip on her ankle, he dragged her to the edge of the bed and pressed her into it with his bodyweight. “Feel.” He yanked her hand to his jeans.
His length was hard, beckoning her to stroke, but she froze. Flashes of Montana, of the chain around her neck and of the psychotic asshole, Marshall, pulling her legs apart, clawed at her. Grey had saved her, but panic in tight spaces was now a constant companion.
“You think you’re ready for this?” Grey asked.
Shaking her head, she turned to stone under his fierce lips. Gripping her hair, he rasped, “I know you aren’t. I’m not keeping my distance because I don’t want you, Morgan. I’m giving you the space you need. Don’t torture us both. Come to me when you’re ready.”
His weight disappeared and he stood above her with his back turned, his hand held out.
When her body started functioning again, she slid her palm into his and he pulled her up. “I’m not putting you off because I don’t love you. I’m putting you off because I do.”
Fighting an epic blush, Morgan followed Grey back downstairs where he showed her the rest of the house. The kitchen, with its stainless steel appliances and huge natural wood island, looked like it belonged in a home decorating catalogue. The dining room with its oversized table and chairs made out of deer antlers gave it a rustic, mannish feel. This house was the perfect balance of feminine and masculine. The study boasted a computer desk and bookshelf with Grey’s first three werewolf lore texts. The screened-in sunroom had comfortable chairs and benches for lounging. He led her through the living room to a second wing of the house with three guest bedrooms, showing her which one Marissa had picked out.
As minutes passed, and she saw how much care had gone into preparing a home for her and Lana, months of strain lifted from her. Her mate hadn’t balked at her return after so long. In fact, he couldn’t quite seem to keep the glorious smile from his achingly beautiful lips. She affected him as he did her, and his careful caresses and touches healed something that had fractured the day she’d given her engagement ring back. This place he’d created with her in mind had settled the questions she’d harbored about his reasons for wanting to marry her. She’d thought he pitied her and felt guilt over the brutal way she had been Turned. She’d thought he saw marrying her as his duty, so he could protect the silver wolf. Her assumptions had all been wrong. What he’d created here proved it. His love for her rivaled her churning, endless feelings for him.
And listening to him talk in that easy way of his that he only did with her, she knew she’d been right coming back to make things work.
For the first time in months, she could breathe again.
Chapter 3
Marissa set a plate of cake in front of Morgan and sank into the chair beside her. It was a warm day, but not too hot to spend time on the sprawling porch watching Lana play.
“You swear you don’t care if Grey initiates me first?” she asked the girl.
Marissa looked at her with guileless green eyes and shook her strawberry blonde waves. “For the hundredth time, ya