“Michelle, tell me. What is it? Should we leave? Find another room?”
She blew out a breath and wrapped her arms around me. I could feel her arms trembling as she rested her head on my chest. Confused, I returned her hug.
“No. The room is fine. I just connected it with a vision I had.”
I knew it. “What was the vision about?”
She hesitated a moment and ducked her head.
“You and me,” she said finally. She pulled away, and eyed me nervously. “I don’t want to bite you. I don’t care if it looked like you liked it or not. It’s going to hurt you, and I just don’t think I can do it. Not yet.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. She’d had a premonition about Claiming me. And it would happen in that room. I stared at the bed. Tonight. My heart raced. Tonight.
Michelle fled, and I turned to watch her. She seemed to sense my regard and stopped just outside the bathroom to look back at me. The blood on her shirt spoke volumes. She’d just survived a kidnapping. Claiming should have been the furthest thing from my mind.
She looked away and closed herself in the bathroom. Well, almost closed herself in. The slight gap in the door didn’t fool me. It wasn’t an invitation. She was still shaken up and probably wanted to hear me as much as I wanted to be able to hear her. Little movements and sounds let me know she was still all right.
Slowly, I sat back down on the couch. Claiming, being a leader, making a safe home...somehow it all started to blend together in my mind.
The shower turned on, and I half listened as she undressed.
I’d finished her apartment to entice her to stay. Now, it seemed she would be. But was it safe there anymore? No. Not the way it was. Dad was right, we needed families to come live with us. There was safety in numbers. However, we weren’t sure how many we were up against. Dad’s relaxed attitude toward the trouble that had visited the Compound stemmed from the number of people living there. If some of those families left, would the Compound still be as safe? Should we separate our numbers when so much was still unknown? I needed to talk to Dad before I made any decisions about the future. I wanted Michelle and her brothers safe. If that meant leaving Montana and living at the Compound, then that was what we would do.
The shower stopped, and I listened to Michelle get into the tub and start the jets. The faint scent of old blood drifted through the apartment. Not unexpected given what she had needed to wash away. However, the scent of worry still drifting in the air did concern me.
I dwelled on what the night might bring until I heard movement in the hallway. I was already off the couch when I heard the knock. The jets turned off in the bathroom. On my way past, I closed the door to give Michelle privacy and a sense of safety.
In the hall, a man waited with a cart full of food. The scent of grilled meat tickled my nose.
“Come in,” I said, moving aside.
The man pushed the cart into the room and set three covered plates and several other side plates on the counter of the kitchenette. When he had everything set, he wished me a good evening and walked back out, shutting the door.
In the bathroom, I heard Michelle moving. Closing the distance, I listened. She was just on the other side. I could hear her breathing.
“Food’s here,” I said.
She squeaked in surprise and pulled open the door. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Not funny,” she said, tightening the robe around her waist. Her wince stole the humor from the moment.
I eyed her, wondering again if she’d let me look her over. Given what she’d revealed before her shower, I decided to keep quiet for a little longer.
“It’s not as bad as I thought,” she said, turning her head so I could see the gash. Was she trying to distract me from what else might be wrong? It was hard to see, anyway. Her hair was wet and slicked back from her face. Water dripped from the ends onto the hotel robe she wore. I tried not to think about what she did or did not wear under it.
“Everything’s on the counter,” I said, turning away from temptation.
She followed me. I took the lids off of steaks topped with blue cheese, sides of mushrooms, and baked potatoes with the works. Three full meals.
As she eased onto one of the stools, I moved a plate before her. She looked down at it with a grimace. I thought she might argue, but she only glanced at me before she picked up her fork. The move shifted her sleeve, exposing the red lines circling her wrists. The raw color stood out against the white robe.
She picked at her food in silence, barely managing a few bites before I finished my meal and part of the extra one. When she pushed her plate away, I scraped the leftovers onto one plate and put it into the refrigerator.
With her head propped in her hand, she tiredly watched me. I didn’t realize just how exhausted she was until she yawned. I had her up in my arms before it stopped.
“I’m not tired,” she said, ducking her head to avoid my gaze.
She nervously played with the bloody fabric of my shirt.
“Frank didn’t hurt you, did he?” she asked, finally looking up at me. Concern filled her eyes.
She couldn’t walk without cringing, had a gash on the back of her head, and she was worried because I had a little blood on my shirt? I groaned and lightly pressed my lips to hers before pulling away. I didn’t deserve her.
The look she gave me was bittersweet.
“Don’t be sad.” She slid a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me down for another kiss.
I kissed her gently, and she sighed. Her hand moved over my chest in an absent way. Part petting, part exploring. Even though I knew she had no idea what she was doing to me, I couldn’t stop myself from responding. I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for more. She willingly gave it. Her taste was heaven, her touch bliss. Without meaning to, I started walking again.
Her fingers feathered through my hair and held my mouth to hers as I gently set her on the bed. Carefully, I moved over her, using my arms while keeping my weight off of her. She took the space between us as an invitation to explore under my shirt. The feel of her fingers on my skin sent a tingle of pleasure through me.
I smoothed her damp hair back and trailed my fingers down to the Claiming spot on her neck. She shivered and turned her head to break the kiss.
As she gasped for air, I trailed kisses from her brow down to her throat. She groaned and arched into my mouth. I swirled my tongue over her skin then moved to the side of her neck. She turned and kissed me just below my jaw.
I froze. Tonight. Tremors shook me as I struggled for control. Not tonight. She needed rest.
She gently ran the tip of her tongue over my skin. I closed my eyes and struggled to remember why this wasn’t a good idea. It was the best idea. I wanted her. Forever. She needed to make it happen.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, nipping my neck.
I groaned at the feel of her teeth toying with my skin.
“It hurts to wait,” I said honestly.
Yet, she didn’t give me what I wanted. She continued to kiss and nip me, slowly torturing me. I shook with need and wouldn’t have been able to move off her if she begged. I kissed her collarbone and shoulder in return, giving her plenty of room to mark me and make me hers. Her scent was driving me crazy.
When she bit down firmly enough to break the skin, I nearly came undone. She placed a tender kiss over the bite and offered me her lips. I claimed them, devouring her as new emotions swamped me. Love, sweet and sure. Passion, shy and perfect. Michelle was finally in my head, and I was in hers. I didn’t want to let her go, but caught sight of a little pink on the pillow and forced myself to pull back.