Page 56 of Whatever It Takes

I shake the top of the box and pull the lid away. The box is heavier than I would expect, but the gift is obscured by tissue paper.

Easton snags the lid and drops it onto the bed next to him. I fold back the thin sheets of tissue paper and bite the inside of my cheek. There’s a small black box on one side, another larger box that takes up most of the left and middle, and some type of clothing underneath.

My eyes fly up to meet Easton’s dark orbs. “Any preferences on what I open first?”

His eyes glimmer, and a smile tugs at his thick lips. “The smaller one.”

I lift it and pop the hinged lid.

It’s a set of black brass knuckles… I think.

“It’s a stainless steel knuckle knife.” He reaches into the package, pulling it free. “You’re small. You’ll never have the weight an alpha will have to throw behind a punch. And that’s okay, we’re going to teach you how to focus on your strengths.” When he grabs my right hand, I drop the box the knuckles came in, and he slips them on. “You slide your thumb along the side here, and…” He guides me to do exactly that, and I jolt when a three or four-inch knife pops out. “A few good hits, you get your opponent to the stage where they’re dazed, and you click out the knife to finish it.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper, twisting the blade in my hand. The knuckle support actually makes it easier to wield, because I don’t have to worry about losing my grip and stabbing myself. “This has to be illegal.”

“The knife itself is fully legal,” he says, shrugging. “The knuckles…not so much. At least, not in Vermont, but again, this is just for training. My hope is that you’ll eventually feel confident enough wielding a blade that you won’t need the safety net of the knuckles.” He pulls the device off my hand and clicks the slide to put away the knife portion. Once he’s done, he places it back inside the box it came in and lifts the other package. “That’s where these come in.” This time, he removes the lid. “I’ll forever be a fan of stainless steel, but that’s just me.”

His fingers wrap around a stretchy piece of black elastic. It almost looks like a garter belt, but it’s actually a thigh holster. I mean, I’m almost positive that’s what it is. He drops it in thelarger box and lifts out a small leather roll, which he hands to me.

I don’t even have to pull the string to know what they are. I can see the dagger handles sticking out the top of the roll. But I still tug the bow and unroll the leather.

“There is another sheath on the bottom of the package,” Easton says, clearing his throat. “These are three-and-a-half-inch blades, seven inches with the handle, with single-finger grips to make it easier to pull with only one finger in an emergency.”

My fingers run over the smooth metal, and I find myself smiling. “You’re giving me weapons as courting gifts?”

His pointy canines dig into his lower lip as he brings a hand up, brushing his fingers over my cheek. “I’m going to give you far more than that, love. I intend to give you the confidence and training you’ll need to know that you’ll always be able to protect yourself.” His jaw clenches, but his eyes sparkle. “You’ll be able to take down anyone you view as a threat—even me.”

I drop the leather roll inside the box and reach up, cradling his hand as he still runs his fingers over my cheek. “Thank you, Easton. That means more to me than you know.”

My nostrils flare as I breathe in deep hits of his indescribable scent, and my stomach flutters.

His head ducks closer, and I don’t pull back as his mouth brushes mine. His fingers slide from my cheek into the hair at the base of my skull. I freaking whimper as his tongue darts out, teasing the seam of my lips.

Easton takes full advantage, shoving his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like spearmint gum, and his scent is everywhere. I turn more toward him, letting my hands land on his chest as my fingers dig into the soft material of his T-shirt.

The box disappears from my lap. Easton must be to thank for that, because, a second later, his free hand lands on my hip. Hegives me a solid tug, but I’m already in the process of scrambling into his lap.

Our lips lose contact during the move, and I dive for him again as soon as he’s within reach. His low chuckle would normally piss me off, but something about the timbre and the way he clutches me makes me ache to devour him.

The low growl that vibrates out of his chest causes a physical response to echo through my system. My nipples ache, and a wave of cramps pulses through my abdomen. I sob, grinding over his lap, like an omega lost to the fog.

Easton palms the back of my head, taking over the kiss. He’s bossy and demanding, but it soothes my instincts in a way I don’t understand.

It feels a little like he wants to consume me whole, and the scary thing is…

I’d let him.

My skin sizzles. Not with the good kind of ache, either. It feels like I’m burning alive from the inside out.

Abandoning my hold on his chest, I tug at the bottom of my dress in an attempt to pull it off. I didn’t even pick this thing, but it’s what Easton offered up in the rest area bathroom. “Get me out of this dress.” It comes out as a hiss I didn’t know I was capable of producing.

Easton doesn’t hesitate. His massive hands work the back zipper, and he tugs the material over my head. My perfume floods the air, and my vision gets hazy.

That’s a bad sign.

I’ve only experienced this foggy feeling a few times, and everything is fuzzy and muted outside of Easton. His strong jaw clenches as he runs his hands up and down my spine. He didn’t bring me a bra when he dressed me, so we don’t have to worry about removing that, but I would like to get these panties and leggings off immediately.

My tits end up shoved in his face as I push up enough to shove down my underwear and the leggings that are making me feel trapped.

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