Page 19 of Fated Protector

Anna’s lush hips sway from side to side as she moves about the kitchen, and the motion has me adjusting my semi-hard cock in my jeans. If anything, I could write a ten-page poem about those sexy hips— how I'd like to throw them over the table and thrust into them from behind while Anna screams in pure pleasure. And then afterward, I would kiss her on those big pouty lips, as red as a rose at sunset–

Fuck! I'm in poem mode already. Damn everything to hell.

"I know you're awake," Anna says, not even looking over her shoulder. “I can hear you moping from all the way over here. Are you hungry?"

Not for what she's alluding to, but I'll play nice. "Famished, I say, my voice more growl than speech.

"Then come eat," she says, and before I can blink, there are two plates stacked high with bacon and eggs. I could live with this, I think, this kind of domesticity. The two of us, making breakfast for each other, talking about our day's plans, waiting for the pitter-patter of little footsteps to come back down the stairs.

Whoa there, Tiger.First off, if these imaginary kids are anything like me, they’ll be awake long before I am. And secondly, Little Miss New York Princess needs to accept the Mate bond before we talk about kids; and there's no saying that she will. She left New Orleans long ago and hasn’t shown any sign that she wants to come back. She doesn't even want the bookstore. Why would she want a life in this old city?

I can think of a thousand reasons, of course, but this ismycity.Myland. And there's nothing I love more – well, there wasn't, until now.

And what would a Mate bond between the two of us even look like? Would I follow her back to New York and wait around for her in her luxury apartment while she takes the express train to the top of the business world? I’m not the type to be a kept husband, but the New York pack is fiercely protective against outsiders, and there’s little doubt they would refuse to let me in. Would I force her to stay here, living with the rest of the pack? Is there even a compromise for the two of us?

And then there is the bond itself. Fate may designate your Mate, but she doesn't make you choose. At least for this aspect of our lives, free will still exists, and Anna can reject the bond if she wants. We will both survive the aftermath. Sure, we will be miserable for a long while. But we can love again, even if it will never be the same strength as a Mate bond. She’ll be better off than I will. She’s a human, and this insane attraction, thisitch, doesn't seem to be affecting her as much as it does me. She probably doesn't even realize that it is happening. Me, on the other hand, I’ll be in for one hell of a heartache, but I'll be fine. I think.

"Thanks for breakfast," I say gruffly, flopping down into one of the chairs.

Anna picks up her fork, but before she even takes a bite, she fixes me with her no-nonsense look. "So, are we gonna talk about the weirdness last night?"

Oh, Jesus. I haven't even had coffee. "Nope," I say, drawing the word out.

She peers at me with all the judgment of a schoolteacher. "Fine,” she says, scooping up a forkful of eggs. "But we’re not done talking about it.”

Don't I know it.

"What's the plan for today?” she asks.

"More research, I guess," I say, forcing myself to drag my eyes from her hair. She tied it up in a bun, as usual. Still, instead of that prim and proper knot she usually wears, this bun is messy, with tendrils falling down her neck, showing hints of skin that just begs to be kissed. Or licked. Or bitten.

I have got to get this under control. Luckily, the one person who could possibly kill my libido texts me.

WILL: another attack last night. Meet me at your apartment.

"Never mind,” I say, shoveling more food in my mouth before standing. "We gotta go to my apartment. My informant has more information."

"Can't he come here?" she asks, looking at the prepared food with exasperation.

"No," I sigh. "He can't."

"Why not?"

"Because he's a little bastard who likes to make trouble for me."

"I see." She stands, scooping up our breakfast and putting it into a Tupperware container. Apparently, the princess hasn’t given up all of her frugal traits yet. "Can’t I stay here? I can research, and the wards will protect me."

That would be the smartest thing, of course, but this Mate bond is a stubborn bitch, and I can't imagine not having her in my sight at all times. I just have to keep her away from Will, or he will figure out immediately what she is to me, and that will complicate things further.

"No, it's better if you come with me," I say. “Go get dressed. We'll head out in ten minutes."

There are many ways to describe hell. Having Miss Annabelle Boudreaux cling to my back as we ride through the streets of New Orleans, her fingers clutched around my waist and those creamy thighs pressed against me, is definitely hell. It takes everything I have not to stop the bike and kiss her senseless. And by kiss, I mean tug her into an alley and take her against the wall, rough and without mercy.

By the time we get to my apartment building, I am extremely hard and extremely cranky. I park the bike in front of my building and stomp toward the doors before I realize that Anna isn’t following. "Come on,” I snap, but she stares with dismay at my parked motorcycle.

"Won't somebody steal it?" she asks.

"Nobody steals from me," I say, twirling my keys around my index finger. "Nobody." Although I half wish someone would try, just so I could show off my fighting skills in front of her.

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