Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Give me a break,” Jake growled. “I had to say something to throw my dad off the scent!” He inhaled deeply. “And speaking of scents, I can tell your Heat Cycle is ramping up again. Let me in so I can help you.”
I bit my lip and took a step back from the window.
“So…you didn’t go anywhere near the local pack grounds tonight?”
“When would I have time?” Jake demanded as he climbed in the window and shut it behind him. “They’re over an hour away. I only stayed out of the way until I was sure my dad and your mom were gone before I came back.”
“Why would you do that? Why would you sneak up here when we’re supposed to be staying away from each other?” I asked, taking another step back.
I wanted so badly to hug him—to throw my arms around him and press my face to his neck and breathe him in. But he’d been so distant and cold the past three weeks, I didn’t know what reception I would get if I did that. So I kept my distance.
“Why do you think I came?” Jake growled. “Like I said, I can smell your Heat—and I’m pretty sure my dad can too. Or he would if you weren’t always wearing so much perfume.” His nose wrinkled.
“I didn’t know how else to cover it!” I flared defensively. “Or even how to deal with it! This is only my second Heat Cycle, you know, and it’s making me crazy!”
Jake stepped forward and took me by the shoulders. Looking down at me, he murmured,
“I know it is, baby—I can see it in your eyes every time I look at you.”
“Look at me? You never look at me…or talk to me…or even acknowledge my existence,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I mean, I know we have to pretend we never, uh, got close when we were kidnapped, but sometimes it feels like we’re complete strangers. Do you really have to ignore me completely in order to throw our parents off the trail?”
Jake looked down at his feet, as though he couldn’t meet my eyes.
“Sorry, little Ani,” he murmured. “I guess I thought maybe…maybe you’d rather be strangers, considering…” He cleared his throat. “Considering what I did to you.”
“What?” I stared at him blankly. “I don’t understand, Jake. Everything that we did was done out of necessity.” Well, except for that last day making love over and over—the memory which still made me ache. But for the most part, we had been forced into the intimacy we shared. How could that be his fault?
“Before I Shifted.” Jake lifted his eyes to mine and I saw shame and regret and guilt all warring in their pure-gold depths. “I took you too hard, Ani,” he said harshly. “And I hurt you.”
Oh, now I got it. He was still feeling guilty for yet another thing that wasn’t his fault.
“You saved me, Jake,” I said earnestly. “You saved us both. If you hadn’t distracted Tainer and the rest of them when you did, who knows what would have happened? They probably would have forced you to knot me and I’d be pregnant right now and we’d both be screwed—both literally and figuratively!”
He looked at me intently.
“So…you don’t hate me for what I did?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “I lo— I mean…” I coughed to cover my confusion. “I mean I care about you a lot. Way more than I probably should,” I amended quickly. Had I been about to tell my stepbrother I loved him? That was crazy, wasn’t it? After all, we had only been pretending back in that attic. Right?
“I care about you, too, baby. And I’m sorry for what I had to do to you—so damn, sorry.” Jake pulled me close to his chest and wrapped his arms around me.
I pressed my face to his chest and breathed him in, inhaling the familiar fur and bonfire scent I had been craving so badly. God, he smelled so good! Like home and safety and warmth. Just filling my lungs with his warm, masculine fragrance seemed to help with my Heat Cycle—at least a bit. I felt it ease just a little as he held me and I wished he would never stop.
Jake seemed to feel the same way about me—at least if the way he was hugging me so tightly was any indication. Not that I was complaining—I wanted to sink into him and never let him go.
“Are you sorry for all of it, or just the part where you, uh, hurt me?” I asked, looking up at him after we had stood there holding each other for at least five minutes. “Because I’m not sorry for any of it—not a bit,” I went on. “I was dead before I met you—I felt nothing. You woke me up, Jake—woke up my body, my desire.”