with food poisoning, coming to the motel, taking a shower, Lakota bringing me food, the nightmare, and… oh holy hell.
The kiss.
My body tingled just thinking about it. I stretched, then it hit me like a sledgehammer what that rumbling was against my back. It wasn’t a dream or even a pillow. It was Lakota Cross, and he had me in a firm grip.
I glanced down at a tangle of arms and couldn’t tell where mine ended and his began. We looked like a human pretzel. Lakota was spooning me from behind, his bare chest pressed against my back, his face nuzzled against my nape—and I only knew that because I could feel the heat of his breath in a steady rhythm. Every breath he took seemed to travel all the way down to my core. My bottom was snug against his groin, another unexpected discovery.
Lakota had come into my bed the previous night with great reluctance. He’d clung to the edge of the mattress on the other side as if it were a lifeboat. Eventually he rolled onto his back, hands locked behind his head as his gaze drifted to the ceiling.
He assumed I’d fallen asleep, but sleeping would have been an exercise in futility. Eventually I stopped rolling around and altered my breathing so he would at least think I’d drifted off. Through my tangled hair, I watched him—the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the way he would simultaneously frown and purse his lips when deep in thought, the way he periodically turned his head to watch me. I would quickly shut my eyes until I heard the soft rustle of his head shifting away. We played that game for what seemed like an hour, and Lakota kept his hands locked behind his head the entire time. After a while, my eyelids grew heavy, and the sound of gentle rain outside lulled me to sleep.
Now a man with the body of a warrior was holding me tight as if I mattered. I had no recollection of wandering hands during the night. His arms felt like iron, and they held me protectively. Everything about the moment was so tender and affectionate that I didn’t want to move, afraid that one cough or shift of my body would cause him to sever contact. Would he recoil? Run away? Roll me over and bury me under his weight?
I wasn’t sure which option was the best one, and that left me even more confused. Only two men had ever held me in their arms when falling asleep, and by morning, they were on their side and I was on mine.
Never had I woken up feeling so safe and protected. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it meant anything. Lakota was undoubtedly craving the feel of being close to another wolf. He’d never really experienced pack life on a daily basis, and I wondered what that kind of separation would do to a wolf. I felt lonely being away from my pack, but at least I had Hope to keep me company. Sometimes our wolves would curl up together, fulfilling that need to bond with other wolves. But Lakota lived and worked alone. Our connection would probably scare him enough to leap out of bed and hit the road.
“Morning, Freckles,” he murmured.
I pretended to be asleep.
He called my bluff. “Can’t fool me. Your heart’s beating faster, and you stopped snoring.”
“I don’t snore.”
“Of course not. You breathe with gusto.”
I turned my head. “I don’t like that name. Freckles, I mean.”
“I do,” he said with a throaty growl.
When his arms relaxed, I rolled over to face him. “You were always good at teasing me,” I said, a smile on my lips.
He looked at me lazily, his voice a silken caress across my skin. “I like your freckles.”
I liked the way I felt in his arms, but I kept that to myself. “Did you learn something last night?”
His lips eased into a grin. “That you snore like a little mouse.”
I poked his chest. “I don’t snore. I’m serious. Here I am, in my bra and panties, and all you did was hold me in your arms. Not only that, but I had my back turned to you while in bed. I was vulnerable, and you’re more powerful than I am. I hope this convinces you that you’ve been wrong about yourself this whole time.”
“Maybe it’s because I know you.”
“If you had it in you, it wouldn’t matter. In fact, you might feel more