N. Walters - Finding Chrissten

Time to face the music. She owed him the truth. “I wanted to use you to forget,” she blurted out. Her cheeks heated. She knew she was blushing but figured if she ignored that fact he would too. “That wasn’t right and I’m sorry.” There, she felt better for apologizing.

Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t feel better at all. She was tense, her skin so sensitive to the touch it almost hurt. Her breasts were heavy and taut with need, and she ached between her legs. She wanted Hank, wanted his touch to replace Brian’s but she was too afraid to take that step.

“Was it the dream?”

The man was too astute for her peace of mind. She nodded and rubbed a hand over her face. She was sweaty and completely out of sorts. Aroused and frightened at the same time.

It might be natural to be emotional after the trauma she’d been through over the past year and a half, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. She’d had more than enough of feeling out of control. She wanted some sort of normalcy in her life.

She’d lived in a constant state of stress for so long her body was having a hard time adapting to everyday life. Of course, she couldn’t relax her guard. Not yet. Not until Brian and his band of not-so-merry men were history.

She shivered again and tugged the covers closer.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Hank picked up her thick braid and toyed with it, rubbing the loose end over her chin. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but it might help.”

She didn’t want to talk about it, but maybe he was right. Keeping everything buried inside wasn’t working. It was poisoning her system. “It wasn’t a dream. Not really. More of a memory.”

Beside her, Hank’s muscles tightened and his breathing deepened. “Tell me.” It was more of a demand than a request.

Still, she figured she owed him some kind of explanation. She looked away, not wanting to see his face when she told him. “It was about me and Brian together.” Chrissten struggled to get the words past her constricted throat. “How he hurt me.”

“Fuck.” Hank was practically vibrating with anger now. That was her fault. He’d simply come into her room to wake her from a bad dream and to offer comfort, not to play shrink.

“It’s nothing. It’s over with now. You should go back to bed.” She didn’t take a single breath between sentences. Better for Hank to go now so they could both forget any of this ever happened.

“Let me get this straight.” Obviously he wasn’t going to take her suggestion and leave. She should have known better. He was as stubborn as her brother, which was a roundabout way of acknowledging that he was as stubborn as she was. “You were having bad memories about you and Brian and you wanted me to touch you.”

“Stupid, wasn’t it.” God, if a person could die of embarrassment she’d have already expired. “I had some mixed-up idea that your touch could replace it, kind of cancel it out.” She shrugged. “I know. It doesn’t make any sense. Good night.” She closed her eyes and prayed he would take the hint.

Warm breath feathered across her face and then soft lips brushed hers. Her eyes flew open. Hank was levered above her, his mouth tempting hers.

She parted her lips to ask him what he was doing but he didn’t give her a chance to speak. He slipped his tongue into the moist opening and teased hers in a slow, easy glide that didn’t alarm her in any way. A giving. A sharing, rather than a taking.

Her hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it crept up to cup the back of his neck. He made a low sound of pleasure when her fingers made contact. She knew he liked it when she stroked his nape.

She did it again and could feel his smile against her lips. He didn’t hurry. Didn’t try to do anything other than kiss her. The heat, the slow simmer, the steady rise of passion. It was truly lovely.

Chrissten curled her toes and concentrated on the two places they were touching. Lips to lips and hand to nape. Nothing overtly sexual, yet it was one of the most sensual experiences she’d ever had.

Hank kissed her like that was his entire goal and one he was bound to accomplish. He licked and sucked and explored. He tilted his head to one side so he could forage deeper.

And his taste. God, he tasted good. Better than a man had a right to. Mint from his toothpaste mingled with the rich aroma of the coffee he’d drank earlier tonight. But overriding every other taste was the pure essence of the man himself. Better than chocolate. She didn’t think she could ever get enough.

Chrissten lost track of time, lost all embarrassment, forgot about the nightmare as Hank kissed her as though she was water and he was a man lost in the desert.

Both of them were breathing hard when he finally pulled back. Her lips tingled and her head rose from the pillow, following him. She didn’t want this moment to end.

Hank kissed the tip of her nose, her forehead and her cheeks.

“I want to touch you. I want to touch you everywhere.”

Chrissten’s entire body clenched, partly in fear and partly in anticipation.

Hank was wreathed in shadows, the play of light highlighting the harsh planes of his face. “I want to take away his touch. Make you forget everything about him.”

“Hank,” she began, not really sure what she was going to say.

“Shh.” He placed one finger over her lips to keep her from speaking. “Let me finish. I know this isn’t easy for you. I don’t expect to make love with you. That’s not going to happen tonight. I give you my word of honor.”

A sense of wonder blossomed inside Chrissten. She knew he meant every word he said, knew enough about him to understand his word was his bond, his honor everything to him.

“Let me touch you, kiss you, taste you. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, and we can stop any time you feel uncomfortable. Let me do this for you.”

“Why?” Why would he even want to do this? What was in it for him? He’d end up horny and unsatisfied.

Hank let his finger drift down from her lips until it was under her chin. “Because I’m drawn to you in a way I can’t explain. Because I want to touch you more than I want my next breath. No matter how horny I get, contrary to popular belief, no man has ever died because he didn’t get any. And I’d do anything to help rid you of those dark memories.”

Chrissten simply stared at Hank. Could it really be that simple? She wanted to reach out and take what he offered, but it wasn’t fair to him. She’d be using him and that didn’t sit well with her. It smacked of weakness.

She started to shake her head but, once again, he seemed to anticipate that move and countered it with more words.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. It’s not weak to want to reach out to someone for help. We all need it sometime. It’s the strong person who recognizes when they do need help and is able to ask for it.”

“It’s not fair.” How many times had she uttered those words in her head and aloud? Even she could hear the lack of conviction in them. Was she really considering doing this? The answer was an unequivocal yes.

Hank’s gaze heated, his pale eyes almost glowing in the shadowy room. “It’s more than fair, Chrissten. It’s what I want.” He touched his lips to hers. “Will you give me what I want?”

Put like that, how could she refuse?

Chrissten took a deep breath and nodded.

Hank thought he might come in his pants when Chrissten nodded. It was close, but he managed to stop the explosion by thinking about Brian, about the male who had abused her. If anything was guaranteed to kill his libido it was thoughts of that bastard.

A mated wolf usually couldn’t stand the scent or touch of another. That made the attraction between him and Chrissten even more unusual. Hank knew in his soul he was her true mate and she was his. Maybe it was because they were both half-breeds that they were able to get past the restrictions that ruled mated pairs. Maybe it was because they were true mates that Brian’s mating didn’t seem to affect either of them in quite the same way it would a pure werewolf mated pair.