N. Walters - Finding Chrissten

Hank got up from the bed and walked to a closet. He withdrew a long-sleeved denim shirt and came back to the bed, driving home the fact she was in his room, in his bed, resting on his pillow. It felt very intimate, but not frightening.

“Here. You can wear this.” He knew. He knew how much the bruises bothered her. She peered deep into his eyes and saw no pity, only understanding. Slowly, she released her death grip on the blankets and let them fall to her waist.

Chrissten raised her left arm and flinched. She was sore and stiffer than she’d thought.

“Let me.” Hank didn’t give her time to turn down his offer. Swiftly and with no wasted movements, he put the shirt on her. The sleeves were too long, even for her. She was a tall woman, almost six feet, and wasn’t used to having clothing too big on her. He rolled up the cuffs on both sleeves several times. When he was satisfied, he sat back. “Better?”

It was better. Not only was the shirt warm, but it smelled like him too. And it covered her bruises. She nodded. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, making him appear even more handsome.

Her line of thinking startled her. She was in no position to find any man handsome. Her life was a mess and it wasn’t going to get any better for a long time, if ever.

“I’m going to kill him.” There was no denying the menace in that threat, but strangely she didn’t feel the least bit intimidated. She should be screaming for her brother, not wanting to snuggle with the guy.

“Who?” Deep in her heart she knew who he meant, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“Brian.” The word came out more as a growl and she could barely understand him.

Shame washed over her. They all knew. Brian was her biological mate. She pulled the edges of the shirt around her, knowing the sense of safety and comfort was false but needing it anyway.

Hank touched his fingers against the edge of her jaw. “Hey. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m in awe of your bravery. You stayed alive. You managed to help Bethany escape.” He took a deep breath, his broad chest widening to immense proportions. “God, you have no idea just how amazing you are.”

Chrissten stared at Hank, taking his words in, wanting to believe them. He’d been a stranger to her only moments before. No, that wasn’t quite true. She might not have seen his face before, but his scent had been imprinted on her heart and mind. She felt close to him. Closer than she’d felt to anyone outside her family.

“I should have found a way to escape. I should have—” Anger bubbled up inside her. “I should have fought him harder. Should have killed him.” Shame washed over her like a tsunami. There should have been something she could have done to prevent what had happened to her.

“How?” Again, there was no sense of judgment from Hank, just a simple question. “He’s a pureblooded male and you were a female in heat. Even if you did fight him, you couldn’t hold out forever. He would have used his strength against you.”

The memories of that first time made her flinch. “I hit him and scratched him, but he was so big. So strong.” She willed Hank to understand. She couldn’t bear to see pity, or worse, contempt, on his face.

Hank nodded and turned his hand so it was cupping her cheek. “There was nothing you could have done differently.”

She gulped for air, feeling as though she’d run a mile at top speed. “Everything was so out of control. My body was on fire. But I didn’t give in.”

Her heart was racing so fast she feared she might pass out. But she had to finish this, had to make him understand. Why that was so important to her, she didn’t know. All she knew was it was imperative he believe her. “But then I couldn’t fight any longer and he was there, over me, inside me.”

A tear trickled down her face. Hank caught it on his thumb and rubbed it into her skin. “It’s not your fault. You might want to talk to Meredith about this. She’s alpha female of his pack. Her first mating wasn’t exactly her choice either.”

She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. The memories hurt worse than her physical injuries. The bruises would heal with time. Those memories would always be with her, lurking in the dark corners of her mind.

It might be cowardly, but Chrissten didn’t care. She closed her eyes, but it didn’t help. She could still see Brian in her mind’s eye, touching her. Taking her against her will.

Something touched her bottom lip. Her eyes flew open and she stared dumbfounded at Hank as he rubbed his thumb over the plump, pink skin again. “Your lips are so soft.”

“What? What are you doing?” Chrissten was yanked away from the dark past and into the present. She should pull away. She should be upset that he was touching her. Shouldn’t she?

Only she wasn’t. His touch was healing and she wanted more of it.

“If you want me to stop I will.” He continued to slowly move the pad of his thumb back and forth. “But I’m hoping you won’t ask me to.”

“I don’t understand.” She was lightheaded and not all of it was due to her injuries and hunger.

“I don’t fully understand either,” Hank confessed. “All I know is I want to take away the bad memories. Replace his touch with something good. Will you let me?”

Where she’d been cold only minutes before, now she was hot. Perspiration was making her nightgown stick to her skin. “What are you asking me?” He couldn’t be asking her to have sex with him. She couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. But oh how she was tempted. If anyone could remove the taint of Brian’s touch from her skin she knew with a bone-deep certainty it was this man.

There was something about Hank that tugged at her, made her want to get closer to him.

“A kiss. Just a kiss. Nothing more.” He brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. “I want to taste your lips to see if they’re as sweet as they look.”

Her mind went to mush. Impossible. Yet she leaned forward, silently giving him permission.

Hank kept his eyes open and she stared at them, lost in the heat of them. His pupils dilated, swallowing some of the icy blue of his irises. His nostrils flared. His breath was warm on her skin. And then his lips were touching hers.

It was so slight she could barely feel him, and it made her lean even closer. He increased the pressure but still kept the caress gentle. He moved his lips back and forth, back and forth, until she was mesmerized, lost in his soft kiss and the tenderness in his eyes.

He pulled back until only a breath separated them. “Again?”

She nodded and parted her lips.

He groaned and kissed her. The mattress squeaked as he shifted closer. He held her face in his hands, his grip loose, not confining. It occurred to her that Hank had a great deal of discipline. Every muscle in his body was tense but his kiss remained totally light and undemanding.

He eased back again and she stared at him and blinked. She brought her fingers to her lips. “He never kissed me.” What a thing to blurt out. Chrissten was immediately appalled.

The tension in the room ratcheted up a notch but Hank merely shook his head. “He’s not only in need of killing, he’s an idiot too.”

The casual way he spoke of killing Brian shook her. It wasn’t his fight. Wasn’t his problem. “I…” What did she say to a statement like that? What could she say?

“It’s all right, Chrissten. I’m going to handle Brian.”

She shook her head vehemently. The motion made her head ache and her stomach roil. She didn’t want Hank anywhere near Brian. “No, Brian is my problem.”

Hank stood and she could see a bulge in the front of his jeans. He was totally aroused. Yet he wasn’t forcing himself on her, wasn’t demanding she take him.