Page 72 of Wicked and Claimed

“No.” He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her front door. “I’m going to go in and make sure that you’re alone and it’s safe. Then I’ll leave you. Don’t tell a soul you left your place tonight and don’t open the door for anyone.”

“What do you think could?—”

“Happen?” He gestured impatiently until she unlocked the door. “Anything. The police could come. Mila and her gun could pay you a visit. Whoever’s behind the abductions might know we’re onto them.”

She let them in the front door, then pressed a hand to her chest. “Maybe you should stay.”

Was she trying to kill him? Or tempt him beyond what he could endure? “That’s a bad idea.”

“Wouldn’t I be safer with you?”

Jesus, did she not understand that he was hanging on by a thread? That his self-control was slipping, and the longer he stood near her, smelling the remnants of her fear tinged with her female musk, the more likely he’d lose his goddamn mind? “From a life-or-death perspective, yes.”

“Is there another perspective that would make me unsafe near you?”

“You ever spent time with anyone directly after a combat mission?” If she had, it wasn’t him. He’d always been careful not to bring his battle hangover to their bed because he’d never wanted to scare her.

“No. I don’t?—”

“Understand?” He walked at her, his stare fierce. She backed away. Making herself his prey was the worst thing she could do now. His hunting instincts activated, adding to the electric fire ripping through his system. “I’m about two seconds from stripping you, penetrating you, and not letting you up until we’re both exhausted and sated.”

She gasped, her rosy lips parted, her big blue eyes searching him. She licked her lips as she retreated another step. Her back hit the wall. “Nash?”

“Let me check the fucking house. Then I’ll go.” Doing his best to ignore his screaming need to touch her, he pulled the SIG from his holster and scanned the dark foyer.

Behind him, she shut the front door and locked it. “Stay with me.”

There was no fucking way he’d heard that right.

He whirled on her. The question must have been all over his face, but she nodded silently in answer.

Oh, holy fucking shit. Was she serious?

“If I do, I’m going to fuck you, Haisley. Hard. Ruthlessly. Repeatedly. I’ll be an animal without mercy because I want you so fucking bad, and everything primal in me needs to be reassured that you’re alive. So think about what you’re saying. I’m going to sweep the house, and I expect you’ll have come to your senses by the time I get back.”

Nash dragged in a ragged breath and did his level best to ignore a stunned Haisley as he crept through her house, flipping on lights and checking behind doors and in closets, proclaiming each room clear as he worked his way through the bungalow.

When he reached her bedroom, her scent pooled so strongly here that it nearly brought him to his knees. He swallowed back a snarl. Why did this woman alone make him so fucking feral?

After a quick check of her messy-as-usual bathroom, he swallowed back another lust bomb and charged into the hallway, far enough away from her scent that he could breathe without seething and craving her. He backed against the wall and dragged in rough breaths, trying to regain control of himself before he fell off the fucking cliff.

After a handful of deep inhalations, he was no longer pinging off the walls. Oh, his skin still felt electric and his blood still burned, but he’d bought himself about sixty seconds of sanity—hopefully long enough to run out the door and make sure she locked it behind him before he jumped on his bike and hauled ass through the frigid night back home. He could take this drugging need out on his hand. Tomorrow, he’d call her and apologize.

For a lot of things.

Tucking away his SIG, he dragged in one last breath and did a death-march down the hall. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, but it was for her own good.

“You’re clear. There’s no one inside, and I—” He stopped short when he looked up.

And he almost lost his fucking wits.

Her skin gleaming like a pearl, Haisley stood in the foyer, every inch of her naked. “Nash? Don’t go.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Haisley hoped like hell she wasn’t making a mistake.

“Say something,” she breathed.

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