Page 119 of Unwilling Wolf

This was better than she had ever felt in her life.

Oh, Garret Shaw knew exactly what he was doing. He had been right to tease her, and wait.

This moment with him felt bigger because he had made her realize how big it was.

She wouldn’t say it out loud, but when he rolled to his side and pulled her protectively against his chest, it did something big to her heart.

When he pulled the covers over her so she wouldn’t get cold, he made her devoted to him.

When he told her how beautiful she was, it built a devotion inside of her that threatened to overwhelm her.

When he made sure the covers were all tucked around her, she felt it all.

When he let his body relax next to her, his arms wrapped protectively around her, she felt loyalty to him.

When he let his body fall asleep beside her, she felt protective of him.

This man, this werewolf, was pulling her heartstrings to him one at a time.

He had changed the makeup of their relationship tonight.

He had tried, and forced himself, to be gentle for her when that wasn’t in his nature. And she knew why he had done that. Why he had forced himself to be patient with her body and wait until he knew he could take care of her—Garret cared for her.

That much was evident in the way he touched her.

He coveted her.

With a deep inhale, Eliza pulled him closer and squeezed her eyes closed, relaxing against him.

He had waited until she was ready to build that bond with him, and to her, that meant so much.

Her first time was everything it could’ve been.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Why are you up so early?” Eliza whispered tiredly.

Garret was tying his boots where he sat on the end of the bed, but it wasn’t even light outside yet. “I don’t want to leave Cookie and Wells unprotected when the Jenningses figure out some of their wolves are dead.”

“Oh. Right,” she said. She rose and began to ready by candlelight. After she finished dressing, she pinned her hair into a bun. She could feel Garret’s attention on her the entire time.

“I’m looking forward to a bath at home,” she admitted.

“Home,” Garret rumbled, and he looked at her over his shoulder with a smile that dropped her heart to her toes. He sat up straight and reached for her, invited her closer.

She made her way to him and stood between his knees, rested her hands on his broad shoulders.

“I like when you call the Lazy S home,” he told her. He slid his hands up the backs of her legs to her backside and squeezed, drew her closer and buried his face against her breasts. He moved his face side to side slowly, rasping the scruff of his short beard against the fabric of her dress. God, she loved what this man could do to her.

“How about tonight I’ll warm up a bath for you,” he rumbled, looking up at her. “I’ll wash your hair, I’ll wash your body. And then you’ll go sit at your writing table and write tales about what you like in the bedroom, and maybe I won’t read them, but maybe I will.”

She giggled and ran her fingernails through the back of his dark hair. “Brute.”

“Mmmm. And then after you’re done writing, I’ll take you to bed and make you feel better than anything you could imagine up.”

“I like this,” she admitted, and then lifted her chin higher into the air. “I think next time we are in town, I will need to order some bubble bath, and perhaps some rose-scented drops for our bath water.”

“I’m not smellin’ like a fuckin’ flower,” he argued, and she threw her head back and laughed.

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