When he didn’t answer, she pressed him. “Nick?”
“We’re here.” He pulled up outside the salon, relieved to be able to escape the conversation.
Feeling like she’d been dismissed, both Shaya and her wolf bristled. If he wanted to be cagey, fine. Whatever. But, really, it wasn’t fine. Not simply because she was extremely intrigued, but because she wanted to know more about him. Wasn’t that her right?
Realizing she was again being weird, she cursed herself. She shouldn’t be sulking because he hadn’t confided in her. This should be what she wanted. Sharing stories would counteract her effort to keep a distance between them. Trying for nonchalant, she shrugged. “I shouldn’t have asked. Your past is your business.” Before she could open the door, a hand was curling around her throat and turning her head slightly. At the dominant move, her wolf backed down a little.
“I’m not disregarding you,” Nick told her in a low voice. “I just don’t want to scare you off. I don’t have pretty stories wrapped in red bows, Shay. I don’t have fun memories to exchange with you. I wish I did, but I don’t.” He drew circles on her throat with his thumb. “I meant it when I said you deserve better, but I also meant it when I said I wasn’t selfless enough to leave you alone. I can’t risk you running even faster than you already are.” As she nervously licked her bottom lip, a growl rumbled out of him. “Do you have any idea how much I want you? Any idea how much I want to know what’s like to be buried deep inside you?”
At that moment, Shaya had that deer-in-the-headlights feeling. His strong hand was around her throat, tension was riding his body, and his hungry gaze was trained on her mouth—feeding the need that was twisting her insides. It occurred to her just how vulnerable she was—how easily he could hurt her, and just how badly he could hurt her. But he never would, she was certain of that.
Before he lost control and kissed her, Nick released her throat and leaned back. “You need to go.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Thanks for the ride. Bye, Bruce.” The dog merely looked at her blankly.
Once Shaya was inside the salon, Nick moved his gaze to the rearview mirror. Yep, the red Rolls-Royce was still a little distance behind Derren. The car had been following them for the past two minutes. Irritatingly, a white van was also following—the same white van that the human extremists used. Deeply suspecting that the Rolls-Royce was the Nazi’s car and that he had something to say, Nick drove away from the salon, not wanting him anywhere near Shaya. As he suspected, the Rolls-Royce followed him to the local park where Nick had yesterday taken Bruce. Similarly, so did the white van.
As Nick parked in the small, half-empty parking lot at the edge of the park, Derren’s SUV took the space on his left, and the Rolls-Royce took the space opposite Nick’s car. The van pulled up a few cars away from the Rolls-Royce. As Nick got a glimpse of the driver of the van, he noticed the familiar profile. Logan. Fucker .
Ignoring the two vehicles, Nick and Derren began walking along the narrow dirt path through the wooded area with Bruce at Nick’s side. A few minutes later, five wolf shifters came close enough to warrant a reaction—one of whom was the bald male shifter who had confronted Nick the day before. In response to the tension, Bruce growled at the strangers.
“I don’t think he likes me very much,” said an olive-skinned male with deep-brown eyes. If Nick hadn’t vaguely recognized him, he would have known it was the Nazi by the dominant alpha vibes emitting from him. “But that’s fine. Not many do.” He looked hard at Nick, attempting to stare him down, to intimidate him into lowering his gaze. Like that would ever happen. “You attacked four of my wolves yesterday.”
“They were irritating me,” said Nick dryly.
“That made me very unhappy.”
“As it’s your
“We’re here.” He pulled up outside the salon, relieved to be able to escape the conversation.
Feeling like she’d been dismissed, both Shaya and her wolf bristled. If he wanted to be cagey, fine. Whatever. But, really, it wasn’t fine. Not simply because she was extremely intrigued, but because she wanted to know more about him. Wasn’t that her right?
Realizing she was again being weird, she cursed herself. She shouldn’t be sulking because he hadn’t confided in her. This should be what she wanted. Sharing stories would counteract her effort to keep a distance between them. Trying for nonchalant, she shrugged. “I shouldn’t have asked. Your past is your business.” Before she could open the door, a hand was curling around her throat and turning her head slightly. At the dominant move, her wolf backed down a little.
“I’m not disregarding you,” Nick told her in a low voice. “I just don’t want to scare you off. I don’t have pretty stories wrapped in red bows, Shay. I don’t have fun memories to exchange with you. I wish I did, but I don’t.” He drew circles on her throat with his thumb. “I meant it when I said you deserve better, but I also meant it when I said I wasn’t selfless enough to leave you alone. I can’t risk you running even faster than you already are.” As she nervously licked her bottom lip, a growl rumbled out of him. “Do you have any idea how much I want you? Any idea how much I want to know what’s like to be buried deep inside you?”
At that moment, Shaya had that deer-in-the-headlights feeling. His strong hand was around her throat, tension was riding his body, and his hungry gaze was trained on her mouth—feeding the need that was twisting her insides. It occurred to her just how vulnerable she was—how easily he could hurt her, and just how badly he could hurt her. But he never would, she was certain of that.
Before he lost control and kissed her, Nick released her throat and leaned back. “You need to go.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Thanks for the ride. Bye, Bruce.” The dog merely looked at her blankly.
Once Shaya was inside the salon, Nick moved his gaze to the rearview mirror. Yep, the red Rolls-Royce was still a little distance behind Derren. The car had been following them for the past two minutes. Irritatingly, a white van was also following—the same white van that the human extremists used. Deeply suspecting that the Rolls-Royce was the Nazi’s car and that he had something to say, Nick drove away from the salon, not wanting him anywhere near Shaya. As he suspected, the Rolls-Royce followed him to the local park where Nick had yesterday taken Bruce. Similarly, so did the white van.
As Nick parked in the small, half-empty parking lot at the edge of the park, Derren’s SUV took the space on his left, and the Rolls-Royce took the space opposite Nick’s car. The van pulled up a few cars away from the Rolls-Royce. As Nick got a glimpse of the driver of the van, he noticed the familiar profile. Logan. Fucker .
Ignoring the two vehicles, Nick and Derren began walking along the narrow dirt path through the wooded area with Bruce at Nick’s side. A few minutes later, five wolf shifters came close enough to warrant a reaction—one of whom was the bald male shifter who had confronted Nick the day before. In response to the tension, Bruce growled at the strangers.
“I don’t think he likes me very much,” said an olive-skinned male with deep-brown eyes. If Nick hadn’t vaguely recognized him, he would have known it was the Nazi by the dominant alpha vibes emitting from him. “But that’s fine. Not many do.” He looked hard at Nick, attempting to stare him down, to intimidate him into lowering his gaze. Like that would ever happen. “You attacked four of my wolves yesterday.”
“They were irritating me,” said Nick dryly.
“That made me very unhappy.”
“As it’s your
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