Page 25 of Following Their Heart

That gets his attention. He grins and shuts the panel. “Is my kitten done playing hard to get?” His eyelids lower as he looks me up and down. His gaze lingers on my breasts, and I swear I tingle there. It’s like I canfeelhis hunger.

“Yes.” My voice is shaky.

He rises slowly, sensually.

Something else rises. My own hunger.

My world only just became stable in the past week. Now it’s about to be upended again. The next time I’m in this shelter, my guys will be in danger. My family is being threatened. I can’t lose another family. I can’t.

“I need you.” It’s a whisper, but Jud hears it loud and clear.

“C’mere.” He drags me to him and wraps me tight in his arms. “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t let go.” I cling to him, fists curled in the tough fabric of his hunting vest. He’s got a flashlight or a battery tester, or something, in the pocket against my cheek, but I don’t care. I bury my face in him and drag in his scent. Jud doesn’t always feel safe to me. But he feels safe right now.

“Never.” He sounds like he really means it.

He bends around me like a blanket of strength. He kisses my head, my face. He pets me all over. Then he lifts me, and we’re moving to the back of the shelter.

There are four steps up to the bed, but he only uses one of them. Soon, he’s knee crawling to the head with its half-dozen pillows, and he’s settling over me as I become swallowed up by the downiest comforter that ever comforted.

Our size difference isn’t as apparent here, when we’re face to face. When his hands are cupping my cheeks, his fingers making hushed rasping sounds as they rub feather-light over my ears. When his mouth touches mine.

I’m still clinging to him. I don’t want to let go, but I also need his skin under my hands, not this stiff, bulky fabric. As usual, the leader of Eagle Peak doesn’t sit around waiting for orders. He takes matters into his own hands.

While I salivate, he straightens up tall on his knees, head touching the ceiling, and he strips out of his vest and shirt. It. Is. A. Show. I’m mesmerized by the play of muscles in his arms and chest. I can’t stop watching the cords in his neck tense and stretch as the cotton tee pulls free of his head.

Then he’s bare-chested before me, and his hands are on his waistband.

I nod.Yes. Take everything off.And I set to work on my own buttons. Shirt, jeans, underwear, everything goes. Our eyes rove each other’s bodies as we strip ourselves.

He is so beautiful. The way he moves as he stretches over me, all tattoos and ridiculous strength, is animalistic. He’s power and grace, and he’s mine, and I want him. Iwanthim.

Allof him.

I hold his face like he held mine earlier, and I lean up to kiss him. For long minutes, we do nothing but kiss and touch.

It’s Jud’s touching that grows bolder first. He palms my bare breast. After licking his thumb, he swipes at my nipple. Back and forth, back and forth, while his tongue plays in my mouth.

I revert to some primal state where all my fears and insecurities go to ground and all I know is craving. It’s my turn to be bold. I reach between us, and I find Hammer gloriously hard and thick.

“I’ve come up with a name,” I say, squeezing what’s mine. It’s bare and ridged with veins, and I cansmellthe male sex appeal wafting off him. It’s salt and skin and pheromones, and I’m drunk on it.

Jud grunts at my touch and trails kisses down my neck. I can’t believe how good it feels, his mouth on my sensitive skin, his lips taking my pulse. “You gonna tell me now, or you gonna make me earn it?”

He wants me to make him earn it, I’m guessing. “Earn it, baby.”

He pauses sucking on my earlobe.

I go tense all over. I’ve ruined it. I’ve said something wrong, and he’s going to have one of his man-trums.

“Fuck, yeah. I’ll earn it so good, sweet baby.” He moves down and begins giving my breasts the same delicious attention, and I relax. I didn’t upset him by calling him baby. I think…I think he liked it. He called me baby, too. I’m not kitten this afternoon. I’m baby. I like that.

I’ll probably always be on edge with Jud. His mood can shift like a weathervane, and when he gets angry, it’s about as much fun as a tornado in a tack factory. But he’s worth the extra effort. He’s our leader. He’s one of my daddies, even if he’s not calling himself that right now. He carries a lot of responsibility, and sometimes, he’s moody. He can also be tender, like he’s being now.

He’s beingverytender now. His gaze is on me as he tongues one nipple and plays with the other.

While he does that, I pet his head and neck. His hair is still shaggy and in need of a trim, but his neck is clean-shaven. When I first arrived here, his neck looked like a scrubby front yard no one had mowed in years. His beard just sort of grew onto his neck like kudzu, wild and untamed. Not anymore. His neck is smooth and muscular, and even his wild beard is trimmed up. As he holds my gaze, I can’t help but notice how his neater facial hair makes his ice-blue eyes stand out.

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