“We trained together,” Desiree said dryly. “I’ve put him flat on his back in a fight multiple times—that doesn’t make me want to jump his bones.”
He was the one who flinched this time. Because should it ever come to a physical fight between the two of them, Desiree would eviscerate him. He didn’t have the killer instinct of a dominant, didn’t want it.
Groaning, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Why do I always say the wrong things around you?”
It startled him, the uncertainty in her tone. Chancing a glance at her, the weight of her head against his shoulder something that gave him pleasure, he said, “I don’t know what to say to you, either.”
“That’s not true.” Her braids moved against him as she shook her head. “We have perfectly great conversations when other people are around.”
She was right. He now knew that she loved climbing, that her mom was overprotective and made her check in after a night shift even though she’d moved out years ago, and that, same as him, she had a younger sister she adored. “I like talking to you,” he admitted.
It was worth the admission of vulnerability to see her lips curve in that smile, the dazzling one she hadn’t given him for a week. “Ditto.” A frown and she shifted to straddle the fallen trunk so she was facing his profile. “What if we’re wrong, Felix?”
He hated losing her touch, even if it had only been through his shirt. “What?”
“Us.” The single word fell between them, bringing silence in its wake. “We’re both just assuming we can’t make it—what if we could?”
Felix forced himself to breathe. “Your cat—”
“Wants to bite you, lick you, claw you a little.” Her voice dropped. “Just enough for it to feel good.”
His body pounded, his blood hot. Digging his nails into the palm of his hand, he made himself say it. “Skin privileges aren’t enough.”
“They’re a start.” Shifting closer, she still didn’t touch him. “Don’t you think if you’re getting grumpy about me being near another man, you should reassess your friends-only rule?”
He swallowed, considered how he’d feel if she did go home with another man. His wolf raged, clawing and slashing inside his mind. And he knew he was about to make what could well be the biggest mistake of his life. “Okay,” he said, even as another part of him screamed that he was being a stupid goddamned idiot a second time around.
Only this time, it was worse. He’d been a pup when Carisma tore him up. He was a full-grown man now, his emotions mature. If he did this with Desiree and it all went wrong, then he wasn’t sure he’d have it in him to ever again take a risk on a woman.
Chapter 4
Desiree froze, not sure she’d heard Felix right. “Okay?” She shifted another inch closer to him. “Baby, you have to be crystal clear. I won’t touch you otherwise.” She couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk even the whisper of coercion. “You hold the reins here.”
His breath hitched, one of his hands locked around the wrist of the other where he sat with his arms braced on his knees. “Not just friends,” he said, quiet but resolute. “I want skin privileges.”
“Intimate?” She pushed because she had to be sure.
A nod.
Shuddering, she shifted close enough that the front of her body pressed against the side of his. “You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my distance this past week,” she whispered, wrenching back her instinct to take, to brand; first she had to coax him to her. “I dream of you.” She raised one hand to gently trace the line of his jaw, felt heat burn under his skin.
Not all submissives were shy, but her submissive was. Desiree had never thought she’d find that hot, but oh, she did. She wanted to seduce him until he smiled that gorgeous smile at her, the one that melted her knees and stole her breath, wanted to coax him until he stopped being so stiff and wary and turned to her in total trust.
That, however, would take time. She was asking his wolf to trust a predator with far bigger teeth, asking him to fight his primal instinct to get the hell away. Forcing her leopard into patience, she continued to stroke the line of his jaw, loving being able to touch him. His skin was rough with stubble, the abrasive texture delicious.