Page 33 of The Wolf She Shouldn't Desire

“Shit, Talia. You’re going to be okay.”

“I know I am,” I respond with an irritated tone. Not my first rodeo in being shot but it still pisses me off and isn’t the most comfortable sensation.

“Why is there so much blood? We have to get this under control andnow,before you lose too much.”

His eyes are slightly frantic. Before I can say anything else, he lifts me into his arms.

“Jordan what the hell are you doing!?” This time I am a little frantic. What is wrong with him? I’m fine. I can already feel the wound stitching itself back together. With the speed I feel it healing, the bullet definitely went through and through,otherwise it would be a lot slower with something blocking the way of the healing tissue.

“I’m taking you to a nearby safe house where there are medical supplies I can use to clean and stich you up.”

“Jordan, I don’t need any stitching. Put me down!”

But he doesn’t listen and keeps moving quickly through the streets until we come to a rusty iron door. While still holding me, he types in a code and then places his palm on a scanner. Once the door clicks unlocked, he rushes inside, locks the door behind us, and moves towards a door in the back of the room we just entered.

I catch quick glances of a kitchen and a living room space. There are a few doors to the left and right, but we head straight towards one lonely door towards the back.

When Jordan opens the door, I realize it’s a spacious but plain bedroom. Again, though, I only catch a few glances before he is walking through another door and flips on a light that illuminates the space with a bright white light that blinds me for a second at the sudden brightness that my eyes are trying to adjust to. The light illuminates a bathroom where Jordan then places me on a black marble sink counter.

He stands between my legs and starts pulling on the area of my sweater where the bullet made a hole and is soaked through with my blood. “There’s so much fucking blood” he groans with a hint of despair and fear mixed together.

Yeah, my sweater has blood on it, but the area he is inspecting now doesn’t have that much to be concerning. The other spots of blood on my sweater come from him and his one hand that is still coated in blood from ripping the vampire’s throat out. In some areas, it has started to dry somewhat, but most of it is still wet and smeared all along his arm or my sweater.

I know when he finally comprehends that I am in fact okay because his shoulders and head drop as the tension leaves him giving him a drained appearance. Looking down, I see that all that remains from the gunshot wound is a small raised, puckered, and pink looking scar. In another hour, it will be completely gone.

“I told you I was fine,” I whisper.

His head comes up, and he rests his forehead against mine while keeping his eyes scrunched tight. His hands come up to grip my hips tightly as if he is afraid I’ll disappear and is trying to reassure himself I’m solid and not hurt. I wait for him to say something, but instead he tilts his head, moves his hands again to grip the sides of my face this time, and his lips descend on mine.

The scent of the vampire’s blood on his hand bothers me for a split second before I’m consumed by nothing but the scent of him and the feeling of him kissing me. A moan vibrates through my throat, and my hands go up to grip his wrists as I open up and allow his tongue to slip inside to tangle with my own. That addicting taste of his hits me like I’m a drug addict that’s finally gotten a hit of their choice of drug after what feels like a lifetime. I feel Jordan step closer into the space between my legs, but the counter edge and the fact that I am not sitting on the edge prevents his hips from making contact with mine. The realization is torture.

Then the world spins. Jordan wraps an arm around my waist, lifts me with my legs dangling off the ground, and drags me toward the shower.

I pull back from his lips. “What are you doing Jordan?!” My voice sounds slightly panicky as my brain comprehends he is walking towards the showerwithme.

The water turns on, and he steps in with me towards the back of the shower stall where the water doesn’t hit us.The shower stall is large enough for three, a shelf that recesses into one wall, and is covered in white marbled tiles decorated throughout with veins of black marble. The shower head is large and looks like it has fifty different settings. The space quickly fills with steam, creating a sensual and warm atmosphere.

Jordan’s hands make a grab for the hem of my sweater and in response, mine reflectively dart upwards to grab his wrists. My grip is so fierce on his wrists that they would likely snap if he was human, but they don’t.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” I hiss at him.

He tries yanking his wrists out of my hold in an attempt to go for my sweater again, but I don’t allow him to escape. His eyes are laser focused on my sweater, and he won’t look at me. It’s as if he’s in a trance and can’t hear me.

“Jordan!” I yell this time, and finally, he looks away from my sweater and into my eyes. “I said, what the hell do you think you are doing?”

“The blood” is all he says as if that is explanation enough

“What about it?”

He seems confused by my question. I’m a vampire and blood doesn’t bother me. At least not my own on myself. The other vampire’s blood that he has managed to get on me in his frantic run here no longer bothers me either.

“I can’t stand to see it, Talia. I don’t like the reminder that you were hurt, and I can’t stand the garish sight on you. It’s bugging the hell out of my wolf.”

I’m distracted by his words to where my grip on his wrists loosens slightly, allowing him to jerk out of my hold, grab the hem of my sweater, and lift the sweater over my head. I’m stunned temporarily to where I don’t have the opportunity to fight him on it before I realize I’m now standing in front of him with only a bra on my top half.

“I don’t recall saying you can take my clothes off. Quit it!” He’s now grabbing at the button of my jeans to try to undo them.

“No, but we need to wash the blood off of ourselves. You really think it’s a good idea going home like this?”

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