N. Walters - Finding Chrissten

Her jeans were a bit baggy but that was to be expected. She was still way too thin. He could easily imagine her with curves. His dick twitched. Oh yeah, she was gorgeous now, but with curves she’d be a total knockout.

She needed to gain some weight. At least she was drinking her milkshake. He’d suggested it to Teague when Chrissten had come downstairs earlier. She needed the calories, plus he thought she’d like it. Craig had mentioned once that she liked vanilla ice cream and milkshakes.

A movement at the far end of the bar caught his attention. The door to the upstairs apartments opened and Quinn and Bethany emerged. No need to ask what they’d been up to. Bethany’s hair was slightly mussed and she had a sleepy smile on her face. Quinn just looked content.

He was glad they were happy, but it was hard to watch. He wanted what they had and he wanted it with Chrissten.

His chest ached as he turned his attention back to the door and what was happening in the bar. Chrissten was here and she was safe. That’s what truly mattered. Eventually Brian would make his move and Hank would kill him. He didn’t care if the other male was a pureblood. Hank was fighting for his life. Without Chrissten he didn’t have one. She was it for him, the one and only. He knew that as sure as he knew his own name.

Even if he didn’t survive the fight with Brian, she would be free. That was his goal. He wanted Chrissten to be free, to feel safe. She deserved no less.

The night seemed to last forever. Usually Hank enjoyed his job. He liked listening to the music and watching the people, seeing how they interacted. He always had. He was happier on the fringes.

The bar was busy, as usual. The band was finishing up for the night and several couples had taken to the floor for the last dance. It was slow and easy.

Hank glanced toward Chrissten. She was sitting with her eyes partially closed, swaying to the music. He left his post and strode to the table. “Dance with me.”

Every muscle in his body tensed as he awaited her reply. He wanted to dance with her, wanted to feel her body alongside his as they moved to the rhythm of the music.

“I’m not very good, but I promise not to step on your toes,” he added when she hesitated. His tone was light but what he was feeling was anything but.

A tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” He held out his hand and almost howled with pleasure when she took it. With her in front of him, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her around the tables to the small dance floor.

He knew the other members of the pack were watching them, could feel their eyes on him. Screw them. He was making his intentions public whether Chrissten realized it or not.

He slid his arms around her waist and rested his hands on the small of her back. He was careful not to hold her too close. He didn’t want her to feel confined in any way. Plus there was the problem of his erection. He didn’t want his unruly dick poking her in the belly.

This wasn’t about pressuring her. All he wanted was for Chrissten to relax and enjoy herself for few minutes. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

She slipped her hands up his chest before linking them around his neck. Her touch burned through his shirt. His erection got bigger and his jeans grew tighter.

They began to sway to the beat the music. It wrapped around them, cocooning them in its sultry notes. Hank angled them toward the corner where it was darker and more private.

She was tall for a woman. Strong too. But next to him she seemed almost delicate. She’d probably kick his ass if she knew what he was thinking. There was no doubting she was tough. She had to be in order to survive the ordeal she’d come through. No, Chrissten was a fighter. But right now, she was all woman, and she was in his arms.

He moaned when she ran her fingers across the back of his neck. For once in his life he wished his hair was longer so she could run her fingers through it.

“You like that?” The teasing lilt of her voice had his balls drawing up tight to his body.

“Yeah, I like it.” He ran one hand up her spine to her nape, cupping it beneath the heavy braid. He used his hold on her to shift her closer until her breasts grazed his chest.

She sucked in a breath and Hank almost moaned again when the motion pushed her breasts even closer. Even though it was impossible, he’d swear he could feel her peaked nipples through the fabric of her bra and sweater and his shirt.

Her hips swayed to the music and her pelvis grazed his groin. He growled in response as his cock threatened to explode. One touch from this woman was better than hours of foreplay with any other.

Her gaze flew to his face. She looked startled at first, then her eyes darkened and her lips parted. She was as aroused as he was.

He used the hand at her waist to push her lower half tighter to his. She sucked in a breath and then released a breathy moan. He almost came on the spot. His forehead was dotted with sweat and his cock was begging for a release it wasn’t going to get any time soon.

But Hank didn’t care. He wouldn’t change this moment for anything. Having Chrissten in his arms, trusting him, was better than sex. Okay, maybe not better, but damn close.

“We have to stop.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. She was held captive by the moment just as he was. There was something between them, something that defied the short amount of time they’d known one another. It didn’t matter that they’d barely met. He knew her. Deep down in his soul, he knew her.

“Soon,” he promised. The music would end soon enough and so would their dance. He hoped it was the first of many. “Just let go and feel the music.”

He felt her acceptance in the way her muscles relaxed under his hands and she shifted closer to him. Their bodies melded from thigh to chest and they swayed. It was so damn good. She was warm, her scent tinged with her soap and something else, maybe a dab of floral perfume or lotion. Whatever it was he liked it.

He inhaled deeply and caught a whiff of a scent he didn’t like. Brian. The bastard’s scent was still on Chrissten and would be until he was dead.

Hank tensed. He knew she’d noticed the change in him when she stopped dancing and took a step back. “This can’t happen. You know it can’t.”

He reached out and touched her cheek. Her skin was so soft beneath his fingers. “It can.”

She shook her head. “I’m mated.”

“Not for long.” His voice was little more than a growl.

“And then what?” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I go from one male to another?”

His arrogance hit him straight in the face. That’s what he expected her to do. What he wanted her to do.

“Then you give me a chance. A chance to prove how good it could be between us.”

“That’s not fair to you.”

“Screw fair.” Hank felt her pulling away from him and wouldn’t allow it. “I’ll take what I can get.”

She shook her head and sighed. “I can’t promise you anything.”

He couldn’t bear to see her standing on the dance floor looking lost and alone. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want promises. All I want is a chance.”

The house lights came up and Hank realized the music had stopped some time ago.

Chrissten blinked up at him. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to decide now.” He was afraid if she did he’d lose her. “Just let things play themselves out.”

Patrons were heading for the door, chatting and laughing as they left. There was no one around them, but Hank knew it wouldn’t be long until Quinn came to him demanding an explanation, wanting to know why he’d danced with his sister, why he had his hands all over her.