Page 74 of Soul Bound

I pull away from his neck and find a perfect smile on his face when I look at him. I smirk when I see his cute as hell dimples are on full display, a sight I don’t get to see very often. I can’t help but poke my finger at one of them. “I love these.” I trace the dimples before tracing my finger down his jaw.

“It’s how everyone told Ransom and me apart when we were younger.” He nips playfully at my finger as I trace his bottom lip lightly. I smile at him and continues to trace the features of his handsome face. He hasn’t shaved in a couple of days, not since we got back from Vancouver, his stubble is rough under my finger as I trace up to his strong cheekbones. His blue gaze is heavy as he watches me, I don’t meet his eyes yet knowing the second I connect with those whirlpools, they’re going to suck me in. My finger follows his orbital bone up before going down his straight nose.

“What’re you doing, Arizona?” His voice has such a way of making my body react, that familiar chill runs down my spine.

“Committing you to memory,” I whisper.

He reaches up with one hand and catches my wrist, stopping my movement, “I’m not going anywhere.” He brings my trapped hand to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to my knuckles. “Are you?”

I finally look into those blue eyes of his and stay silent, not knowing how to answer his question. The itch to run before he can decide he doesn’t want me is still there, like a pestering little voice whispering to me over and over,you’re not enough for him. He’s going to discard you just like everyone else has.

“Tell me, Winnie, are you planning on running away from me?” he murmurs, his voice serious. “Because if you think I’m going to—”

I pull my hand from his grip and press a finger to his mouth, silencing him. “Don’t say things you can’t take back. Don’t tell me things you’re not sure you mean. And don’t make life decisions you might one day regret.”

Because my heart will never survive it.

“I would never regret anything when it comes to you.” The sincerity in his voice guts me.

I angle my face toward his. “I want to believe you.” I don’t allow him time to respond to me. I crush my mouth to his, thoroughly stopping him from speaking further.

As always, my body’s response to him is immediate, my skin burns and heat pools in my lower belly. I open for him when his tongue teases the seam of my lips, I can’t stop the moan that escapes me when our tongues—again he tastes of the cinnamon gum he chews. I’ve never been a big cinnamon fan, butdamndo I love the taste of it on him.

Still holding me in his arms, he moves us back toward the kitchenette countertop. He gently puts me down on the cold tile counter before his hands delve into my hair, holding me in a grip I can only describe as possessive. My slightly shaking hands reach out and fist the cotton fabric of his dark navy-blue Henley. The sounds of the busy New York streets from outside are muffled, the sound of my heart and our heavy breathing blocking them out.

I get lost in him.

All my thoughts are silenced, and all I can focus on is him and how amazing it is to feel him—to have his mouth and hands roaming over me. My mind is never quiet, but he has a way of making my brain go on mute. The best kind of quiet surrounds me.

God, where was he when I was using drugs to silence the voices in my head?

My body relaxes and I melt into him. I don’t know how long we kiss, but eventually, I decide it’s not enough. I tug at the hem of his shirt and start to pull it as far up as I can get it, we break apart just long enough for him to reach behind his head and pull it the rest of the way off. My hands move over the smooth—burning hot—skin of his toned torso, loving the way his muscles flex and quiver when I skim my fingers over them. My fingers run over a set of raised lines on his side and I stop kissing him so I can look down at them. I don’t know how I’ve never noticed them before, but a neat pair of claw marks sits on his right side, four jagged lines only a few inches long.

“What happened here?” I run my thumb over each line.

“When we’re adolescents, it’s hard for us to control our wolves. Ransom and I got into it one day, nothing serious, but his wolf clawed at me. We don’t scar easily; the wound has to be pretty deep to leave permanent marks. Ransom felt like shit after it happened, but I didn’t blame him.”

I frown at the marks, not liking knowing he was hurt bad enough to scar. I think about what he always does to my scars and I lean down and press a soft kiss to each line. I hear his breath hitch when I do this, and it makes me smile. “I think I’ve finally found your one flaw.” I joke when I pull away and look up at him.

“I’m plenty flawed,” he counters.

“Not in the fucked-up way I am.”

“I don’t know…” He places his hands on either side of my thighs on the countertop and cages me in. His face only inches from mine again. “I’m a pretty big fan of your flaws.”

“That so?”

“I’m a pretty big fan of yours in general.” I was just trying to joke around, but his voice is serious again.

“Haven’t you heard?” I murmur, leaning closer to him as I speak. “I’m crazy.”

“Don’t care.”

We’re so close, I can feel his breath on my cheek when he answers.

Ranger’s lips return to mine and his tongue plunges into my mouth, claiming me. This kiss is hungrier than the last one—almost out of control. Our teeth clash violently a couple of times, but it doesn’t slow us down.

Ranger’s hands grip the hem of my black long-sleeved T-shirt and he pulls it over my head. He tosses it on the floor with his own removed shirt. He makes quick work of the front clasp bra I’m wearing. He wastes no time turning his attention to my now exposed breasts, his thumb flicks across one of my nipples and a whimper-like moan escapes me.

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