Page 6 of Frank's Felon
Delilah had held out. For a while.
Five fucking white wolves. What the hell were Hayden and Callen doing down there that such an attack had happened? Didn’t they have any control over that pack yet?
“Would you like me to escort you to the road?” Frank asked.
A flash of surprise crossed her lovely face before she schooled her emotions. The way she had tipped her chin back, causing her thick tresses to slide back from her face and reveal the subtle rosy hue infusing her cheeks stirred him more than it should.
A lone wolf. Delilah wasn’t used to receiving help or kindness from others, though he sensed it’s what she needed more than anything. Five years he had been in prison, without the gentle touch of a female’s body against his, or even the friendly squeeze or pat on the back he would get from Blade, Damien, Hayden, or Callen at the end of a mission. He knew better than most what it meant to go without a friendly touch.
The yearning Frank had seen in her eyes had moved him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. What to do about her. . . He’d heard the shakiness in her voice and seen the wariness in her eyes. She was more fragile than she looked, at least on the inside. He could let her go, as she wanted, and yet the very idea of her leaving didn’t sit well with him. Not at all.
“The road’s not far, but it’s in white wolf territory.”
She gave a slight nod. She knew, and she was scared, but she wasn’t letting it stop her. His type of shifter. . . Hell, what was he saying? What was hedoing? She was a lone wolf. It wasn’t like she was staying or even coming back this way. Despite her arousal he’d scented, she wanted nothing to do with him.
More than anything, lone wolves didn’t trust. It’s what often led them to leave a pack. They couldn’t trust the pack, or the pack couldn’t trust them. He wasn’t sure which way the trust pendulum swung with her, but whatever he did, he’d have to be careful how he dealt with her.
“I found my way here, I can find my way back,” she said, straightening her stance.
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, Delilah.”
He liked saying her name. It was as curvy and feminine as her and felt so very right on his tongue. She’d feel really good on his tongue.
Hell, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter. The female had just been attacked not too long ago. The foul scents of three males still clung to her luscious body. Their scents on her were minimal, as if they’d grabbed her but not had the chance to do more. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t forget those scents. He would cross the males’ paths eventually, and then he would teach them what it meant to be vulnerable, to be attacked and terrified.
“You’re right,” she said.
Her admission surprised him. Maybe he had judged her too harshly. “Have you changed your mind then? It’s not a good idea to walk along the state route half-dressed as you are.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“You attacked me.”
“I attacked you?” she said, her tone pitched high. “You were sneaking up on me.”
That he was. Even so, he wouldn’t have hurt her, not that she could have known that. His eyes focused on the claw marks. They’d be gone, completely healed in a day or two. She had been right to attack first.
“I’m a guard who was following a scent trail of a lone wolf who crossed into my territory. Several times over the past few days, in fact.”
“Oh.”
At least she understood what he was saying. She had been trespassing, after all. He was in the right to sneak up on her, or worse.
“So, Delilah without a last name, if you won’t accept my help, then I suggest you get moving. The wolves who attacked you earlier have your scent. It won’t take them long to find your trail and follow you.”
Her eyes widened again before a steel curtain drew over her face. She gave a slight but sincere nod. “Thank you, Frank.”
The way his name rolled off of her lips did something unexpected and unnerving to Frank, like she had reached down and stroked his length with her cute pink tongue. Oh, how he’d gladly take her right there—if she were his, but she wasn’t, and she needed to leave. While he could take on five white wolves, it wasn’t his preference. He’d end up all torn up, which meant he’d have to explain to Damien what had happened, that he was in violation of the treaty by being on Drake’s side of the border.
From here, it was only four miles to the road. Aside from the white wolves that had attacked her, this area was also heavily patrolled by Drake’s shifters because of how the road bisected his territory. They got the occasional human trespassing, which wasn’t a real concern, but the military could easily park their trucks on the state road and unload countless soldiers right into Drake’s territory. It was perhaps the easiest entry point of the three major wolf shifter packs in the area.
Delilah stepped forward, the first time she had made any such move toward him, excluding when she had kicked, punched, and head-butted him—all without hesitation. Frank watched her closely, curious as to what she intended. He didn’t think she planned on attacking him. Then again, he wouldn’t mind another chance to pin her to the ground and press his body against hers. Hell, he was hard again, or was it still. . . it was difficult to know around her.
Graceful fingers reached out and lightly touched the bridge of his broken nose. A fire spread from her touch, shooting down his spine and threaded through his arms, hands, and fingers. The need to touch her, to pull her hard against him and capture those shiny, plump lips and slide his tongue into her mouth nearly consumed him, but he controlled himself. Prison had taught him more control than anyone had the right to know.
“I guess we got off on the wrong foot, huh?” she said, bright green eyes dancing, slowly caressing his face, but never going lower. He was naked, had been the entire time. Her eyes had never dipped lower than his chest, yet he could feel the heat there, the desire to go lower. She was cautious this one, as well she should be.
He considered taking her back to his pack, but he had no real cause. A lone wolf crossing the border wasn’t unusual, and it wasn’t a reason to interrogate either. No, she wasn’t a threat, he was quite sure of that, though he didn’t want to let her leave.
