Page 51 of Just a Friend for the Lion
Those kiss-swollen lips are still parted. Hercheeks are flushed. She looks like sex and sin and everything I’ve ever wanted—but her eyes?
Her eyes arenotokay.
“You bit me.”
Her voice is soft.
Not angry. Not shocked.
But definitely not happy.
Not even close.
“I—I didn’t mean to.”
The words tumble out, hoarse and cracked.
“I mean, I did, but I lost control. Fuck, MJ. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I swear. You said you were mine, and I just—something snapped. I felt it. The bond. You?—”
“You didn’t mean to?” she cuts in, her tone clipped, sharp like broken glass. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, should I, Carter? You told me you didn’t want a mate.”
That hits harder than any punch I’ve taken in my life.
Harder than any fist.
Harder than the guilt I’ve buried under a lifetime of regrets.
“I didn’t,” I admit. “But I was wrong. I didn’t know you existed when I made that decision.”
She laughs.
But it’s hollow.
Cracked.
The kind of laugh you let out when everything inside you is coming apart and you’re trying to hold it together with tape and tears.
“And now what? I’m just supposed to believe you changed your mind? Like that?” She snaps her fingers. “I’m supposed to think you really wantmenow—just because your Lion finally decided I’m worth keeping?”
“No,” I say, reaching for her. “I decided. Me. Carter. Not the beast. I want you. I love?—”
She jerks away from me so fast, I barely catch the flick of panic in her eyes before she’s already moving.
Off the settee.
Away from me.
Fast.
Pulling her skirt down so the material covers her up, fumbling with it, but putting it between us like armor—and I hate it. I hate that she is upset and that she’s putting up walls.
But what can I do?
Her heels click across the floor as she rights them and takes a few steps back.
Her hands are shaking.
And so is her voice.
