Page 41 of Just a Friend for the Lion
“You did.”
He’s coming in close now. I can feel the heat radiating off him in waves.
“And yet?”
A breath against my neck.
“I’m here, Kitten.”
His arms move—gently—but firmly.
One comes around my waist, the other braces on the railing beside mine. I’m caged in.
A willing prisoner in a steel trap of biceps, broad chest, and controlled, predatory restraint.
“Carter—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, MJ.”
I swallow hard.
“You said you didn’t want me.”
Hurt floods my senses and it is so powerful I almost crumble to the ground.
Good thing he’s holding me up.
“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life, Kitten, but never that.”
“You said?—”
“That I wasn’t looking for a mate,” he growls. “And I thought that was the truth back then. But things change.”
His nose grazes over the shell of my ear, conjuring shivers throughout my body.
“I thought you wanted to just be friends.”
His lips follow where his nose just was and,oh my fuck, my pussy clenches on air.
I’m aware of warmth followed by wetness, and I gasp.
Did he just lick me?
“I’m trying to be good. I swear I am. But your scent is driving me crazy. Your body responds to mine, Kitten. It’s like you want me to lose control.”
I exhale, breath catching.
“And what if I do want that?”
He growls—a low, deep rumble of sound that vibrates through my spine.
And now I know why the lion is the king of thejungle.
All that testosterone. All that power.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Then, he grabs my shoulders and turns me around to face him.
