Page 81 of Ruthless Savage

“No…” His voice drops and turns deep as he prowls closer, tugging my jaw in his calloused hand. “But now I’m suddenly famished.”

My eyes widen, and I gulp down. His stare is intense and full of unrelenting prowess. And something in it makes my heart beat faster, because it almost feels like he’s hungry for me…

His eyes sear into mine, leaving a trail of heat and awakened desire behind.

“Thank you for thinking of me, love,” he husks, and my throat goes dry.

That seductive baritone makes every inch of me come alive.

“Welcome.” My voice comes out tinier than I intended, but I’m insanely nervous, and having him looking at me this way, touching me this way… It makes me recall what happened between us that night.

“Did you eat?” he asks, cupping my cheek, his lips dropping lower, his arm curling around my back and molding my body to his.

My lungs still as I wait, hoping for his mouth to meet mine.

I nod, a shiver rushing up my spine.

“That’s too bad.” He brushes his thumb over my lips. “I was hoping to feed you.”

Am I allowed to change my answer? Because I’m suddenly starving.

My God, what is happening? And how can I have more of this every single day?

His responding chuckle makes every inch of me tingle.

“Come on, I’ll make you a cup of coffee. I know how much you like coffee.” He drags me into the kitchen, his hand in mine, and this feeling drops into my stomach where your heart’s actually smiling. Really smiling.

He pulls out a stool for me in front of the white marble island and clutches my hips to help me up. But instead of moving away, he remains there, between my open thighs, his palms remaining right above my knees, massaging my skin. His breathing grows raspier, a muscle in his neck popping.

My chest rises and falls with every exhale.

“I’m glad you’re here, mo stoirín.”

Me too…

I go breathless, wishing I knew what he just called me. Before I can ask, he drops his hands away, heads toward the coffee machine, and proceeds to make me a cup.

His back flexes, every sinew rippling, and I’ve immediately come to realize I have a thing for backs. Or maybe just his back. His body is beautiful. As though carved by Michelangelo himself.

When he turns around with a mug in hand, my face grows all hot as I think of him taking me up on the counter. He places it before me and settles across from me, opening the bag of food I brought and unwrapping his bagel.

I quickly grab the steaming cup and drink it, hoping not to show how much he affects me. “How’s your head and your arm?”

He glances down at his wound for a moment. “I’ll be fine. Doc said to change the bandages every few days. I should be cleared to work soon too. So I hope you’re not missing me too much.” His teasing smirk just about evaporates all the air from my lungs.

“Nah.” I flip a shoulder. “Rogue is doing just fine.”

His smile immediately disappears.

“I’m only joking!” I let out a laugh.

“I don’t find the thought of you and Rogue being that close to each other all that funny.”

He’s serious. If looks could kill…

I try not to laugh again.

I drag another long pull of my coffee before climbing out of my chair and walking around to him, cupping the stubble of his cheek. “If this is you being jealous, Devlin McHale, I like it. A lot.”

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