Home > Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge #1)(11)

Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge #1)(11)
Author: T.S. Joyce

He dipped his chin once. “If you stay, you listen if I ask you to do stuff, no questions asked.”

She stiffened at that. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

“I bet you don’t. I don’t like telling people what to do. It’s why I left this place when I was a kid. I was supposed to be a leader here.”

“Like the mayor?”

His eyes narrowed. “Something like that. I won’t try and boss you around, Blaire, but I’m not very popular in town right now. You’re staying at my inn, and I don’t want any of the tension to blow back on you. So please, if I ask you to do something, just do it. Okay?”

Blaire lifted her attention to the cuts and bruises on the left side of his face. There was no reason to trust him, but Gentry had made sure she’d stayed in the cabin tonight instead of going out to get food, and look what had happened to him. She believed he was protecting her in some confusing way, even though he had no reason to. And now, he was asking her to trust him.

“Okay,” she agreed quietly.

She didn’t understand what was happening here in Rangeley, but she had a bone-deep instinct that Gentry had his finger on the pulse of this town. He was offering to keep her out of trouble, and all the lust she felt toward him gave way just a little to something more. In this moment, with his bright green eyes locked on her, a soft expression on his usually hard face, one of her thin heartstrings that had somehow survived her ex latched tentatively to Gentry.

This was the most terrifying moment of her life. She didn’t want another break, and getting attached to a man was setting her up for just that. This had been fun when she’d just been turned on by him, but this conversation had changed the winds and sent their little boat crashing sideways into a wave.

“I should go,” she murmured, trying to hold a tight smile.

Gentry’s eyebrows lowered into a troubled expression, but he nodded. “Probably best.”

“Goodnight, Gentry,” she said, standing. She set the wadded-up food wrapper in the bag and moved to take the blanket off her shoulders, but Gentry was there so fast she gasped. His hands pressed on her shoulders, keeping the blanket in place.

“Bring it back later when you decide to wear a damn jacket outside.” His voice was too gruff, too rough, too low.

He pressed his body against hers, and his hands tightened slightly on her shoulders. The flames from the hearth heated her front while Gentry warmed her back. God, she should be running from him. She should be sprinting to her car and peeling out of here, out of this town, out of the reach of this tempting man.

But her body, the traitor, stood there frozen and wanting. With his cheek, Gentry pushed her head to the side gently, then lowered his mouth to her neck and brushed it there as soft as a butterfly kiss. Parting her lips, Blaire let off a helpless sound and rolled her eyes closed against how good it felt to be touched by a man again.

Gentry inhaled deeply right at her hair line. The short whiskers on his jaw raised gooseflesh up her body. He was teasing with a kiss on her neck, letting his lips touch her, then easing away. He scraped his facial scruff across her sensitive skin, then eased away again. His hands slid from her shoulders down her back to her hips. Slowly, he pulled the blanket from her and pressed his body more firmly against her back. And oh, she could feel his excitement against her spine. A soft noise whispered from his throat that sounded animalistic. She liked it.

Gentry slid his left hand around her hipbone, brushing his fingertips just under the hem of her shirt, dragging fire where his skin touched hers. She inhaled sharply and rolled back against him instinctively. The second she moved against him, he grabbed her hard, digging his fingers into her skin. Rough man, just like she knew he would be.

“Don’t tempt me to take this too far tonight, Trouble,” he murmured against her neck.

Ooooh he was a sexy talker, teasing her, making promises, hinting that he had plans. She wanted to tempt him, so she rolled her body back against his again.

Gentry’s hand slid smoothly up her shirt and cupped her breast, and dear goodness nothing had felt better. Nothing in her entire life. He kneaded her gently, and with his other hand, he brushed his fingertips just under the elastic of her waistband.

“Tell me to stop, Trouble,” he dared her, then plucked gently against her neck with his lips. He still hadn’t kissed her. Only teased with his mouth.

They should stop. She was supposed to be bolting out the door and putting space between them before she fell harder. Even if she felt like she knew him, and even if she trusted him in ways that made no sense, he was still a danger to her heart. But he was touching her, feeling her, working her into an inferno. Warmth pooled in her belly, and she was already wet from what he’d done to her body. Gentry was a man who knew how to touch a woman, and maybe she needed this.

She should’ve told him to stop, but instead she cupped her hand over his and guided him down into her pants. Gentry wasn’t teasing anymore. He slid his finger right inside of her, then let off a shuddering breath as if it felt as good to him as it did to her. He pulled out and pushed back in, hitting her clit. Geez, this was everything. Her body was overheating from the flames in the hearth or from Gentry’s body warmth or from the fire he’d created inside of her. Maybe all three. Her sensitive nerve endings sparked like lightning every time he slid into her just right. She reached over her shoulder and gripped the back of his neck, holding him close as he worked her toward release. Almost there already.

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