if I can. And the thought that my own son is lying to me tears me apart inside.”
The pain he knew she must be feeling right then seemed to be a tangible thing, as though a steel band tightened around his chest, and breathing became almost impossible.
“I was already going to help him get his inner werewolf under control and come to grips with his nature, so I could talk to him about the drug stuff, too, if you want,” he suggested softly.
Diego held his breath, worried he might be overstepping a bit with the offer. When he saw tears glisten in Bree’s eyes, he was sure he had.
Dammit.
Before he realized what he was doing, he moved closer on the couch, his thigh touching hers as he leaned in to catch the first tear before it could slide down her cheek.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” he said gently. “If you don’t want me talking to him about any of this, I won’t.”
Bree let out a little laugh. “It’s not that.” Her small, slim hand came up to wrap around his, her fingers curling around the one he’d used to wipe away the tears. “It’s just that I can’t believe how lucky I am to have met you.”
He lifted a brow. “I’m not sure if I’d say our meeting was very lucky since you and Brandon were being held hostage at the time.”
She laughed again, this time with an accompanying smile that had his stomach doing cartwheels and barrel rolls.
“Yeah, but if Brandon and I hadn’t been taken hostage, we would never have met you,” she said. “Which would have left my son still lost and confused, and me with no way to help him. You’ve come into our lives at the exact moment we needed you. That’s why we’re lucky.”
Her words got to him in a way he’d never felt before. He had no idea what to say to her, so instead he wiped away a few more tears. Being this close to her—with her skin like velvet under his fingers, lips plump and perfect, scent so powerful he couldn’t take a single breath without being overwhelmed—was intoxicating.
Diego didn’t realize he’d leaned in to kiss her until he felt a light vibration in his chest and realized he was growling low and deep in his throat in a sound of pure pleasure.
A little voice in the back of his mind told him to stop kissing her, that this was moving too fast. But the much more vocal part of his consciousness—the part apparently in charge—insisted pulling away would be foolish beyond belief. The knowledge that Bree was kissing him back with a passion and heat that matched his own had a lot to do with deciding to continue.
So, he gave in, sliding one hand into her thick hair while gliding the other gently along her thigh and over her dress until he reached her hip. Then he tugged her closer, reveling in being with a woman who tasted better than anything this side of heaven. Kissing Bree felt like the most natural, instinctive thing Diego had ever done, and as his tongue teased its way a little farther into her mouth and his fingers tightened in her hair, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to stop.
It wasn’t until he felt a tingling in his gums and fingertips that Diego realized he might be getting a little carried away. Popping fangs in the middle of a make-out session probably wasn’t the way to encourage a repeat performance.
But if pulling away from Bree wasn’t the hardest thing he’d ever done, he didn’t know what was.
When he finally opened his eyes, it was difficult to look at anything but those rosy-red lips. Then he caught sight of the heat in her gaze and found the urge to keep kissing this beautiful woman hard to resist.
Somehow, he got a grip and pulled back a little more, forcing himself to ignore the sexy whimper of complaint from Bree that had his fangs pushing harder against his gums and his pants tightening around his erection.
“Trust me when I tell you that kissing you for the rest of the night would be the highlight of the best date I’ve ever had,” he said. “But my instincts are telling me this could be even better if we slow down.”
She gazed at him for a long moment, her breathing and pulse slowly returning to normal, before a languid smile slid across those oh-so-kissable lips. “Your cop