Page 21 of Rescued

Hisshoulders are slumped, his fists now clenched at his sides as he takes a step away, and the look on his face is so hopeless it’s like a punch to the chest.

It’s not frustration or impatience. It’s…resignation.

That one look pulls at me harder than any of the other emotions I’ve been wrestling with. The panic fades, replaced by an uncontrollable need to fix it, to comfort him.

I finally take a deep breath and step toward him without thinking, the urge to soothe him stronger than anything else.

I push off the countertop and close the distance between us, covering Mika’s white-knuckled fists with my hands. His tension is palpable, radiating off him in waves, and the sight of his tightly clenched fingers makes my chest ache.

I can’t resist leaning in, brushing my lips against his. The soft contact sends a shiver through me, my own desperation to comfort him almost overpowering. Hell, at this point, I’d drop down on the floor and spread myself wide open if it meant getting rid of that cloak of dejection hanging over him. If I can feel him through the bond, he must also be able to feel my emotions.

Not smart, jackass.

It’s that sort of unrelenting need that freaked me out in the first place.

Well, that and the wholewolf thing.

I press another kiss to his lips before resting my forehead against his. The warmth of him relaxes me, steadies me even as my heart races. “It’ll be okay,” I whisper. “Eventually. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. It’s just confusing, and pretty fucking scary to be honest.”

Mika’s pain flickers, momentarily visible in his eyes, before it starts to fade. I feel the tension ease out of him, his fists unclenching beneath my hands. He turns his palms upward, linking his fingers through mine, his grip light but steady.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he says softly, his lips quirking into a smile that should come with a damn warning label. The sight of it sends a jolt straight to my gut, a mix of warmth and heat that makes it hard to think.

“But it isn’t just you,” he continues, his voice dropping lower. “I know it’s new and frightening. I feel the same way. It’s like nothing matters other than burying my cock as deep inside you as I can and—”

“Oh shit, you can’t say things like that when I’m this damned horny!”

The words tumble out of me before I can stop them, my entire body shivering at the image his words plant in my head. It takes everything I have not to throw caution to the wind and let him do exactly what he just said.

If we both feel this pull, thisneed, then why shouldn’t we act on it?

My prick certainly thinks it’s a great idea, throbbing insistently as if to emphasize its point. But no matter how persuasive that argument is, I’m not ready to let that particular part of me take the lead.

I take a half step back, putting just enough distance between us to keep myself from losing control entirely.

“No matter how bad my body wants you—and believe me, it wants you very bad—I can’t just shut off my brain.” My voice comes out uneven, my breath catching on every word. “I don’t understand this, but you said you feel it, too. Yet…” I narrow my eyes, studying him. “This doesn’t surprise you. Not really.”

Mika releases one of my hands, his expression thoughtful as he gently guides us back to the counter where the makings for breakfast sit forgotten.

“You’re wrong, partially,” he says, his voice steady but quiet. “Finding you—that surprised the living hell out of me. But this feeling…” He pauses, his gaze meeting mine. “It’s something I’ve heard of before, among shifters.”

I reach up, cupping his chin and forcing him to meet my eyes. “I think I found you, buddy.”

The words come out stronger than I expect, a small surge of confidence bubbling to the surface. “As for the other, you can explain it after we eat.”

Mika smiles, his lips twitching with that grin that does dangerous things to my self-control. A rush of heat pools low in my stomach, and I have to grip the edge of the counter to keep myself from giving in.

Some of my inner struggle must show in my expression, because Mika’s grin falters. His eyes darken, his gaze turning feral for a brief, heart-stopping moment before he shakes his head and exhales slowly.

“I don’t think so, Gabe,” he says, his voice dropping into a low growl that makes my pulse race.

His hand moves, stroking me through my jeans, and a near-breathless moan tears out of me. My hips jerk forward instinctively, chasing the pressure, and I grab his hand, trying to hold it against my aching cock.

But Mika shakes his head again, gently pulling his hand away.

“You’d regret it,” he says softly, his tone filled with certainty. “Once we were done, you’d regret it. And I don’t want that.”

I groan, letting my chin drop to my chest. Mika’s right—I know that. Intellectually, anyway. My body, however, isn’t interested in reason.

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