I break.
My mouth crashes down on hers, devouring the gasp she makes. I press her back against the counter, one hand in her hair, the other sliding to her hip to keep her exactly where I want her. She melts into me in a way that says she’s been waiting for this. For me.
And maybe I’ve been waiting for her too.
Her fingers fist in my shirt, tugging me closer, as I lick into her mouth and feel her moan vibrate down my spine. I grindagainst her without thinking, needing more—needing her. All of her.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Because wanting her is one thing. But this—needing her? It’s dangerous.
Too much.
I tear my mouth from hers, panting, my forehead pressed to hers as I try to find control again.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I growl.
“I think I do,” she breathes, her nails biting into my shoulders.
My eyes flutter shut for half a second, her words cutting deeper than she knows.
Because she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know how it feels to lose everything and have no power to stop it. To grow up in homes where people smiled one second and screamed the next. To sleep with one eye open, always ready to run.
And now, I’m afraid of losing again. Of losing her.
And that scares me more than anything.
I pull back slightly, brushing her hair away from her flushed cheeks. My voice is rough when I speak. “Go relax on the couch, Willow.”
She blinks up at me, lips swollen from our kiss. “That’s it?”
My thumb brushes the corner of her mouth. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop at all.”
She shivers, her mouth opening to argue with me, but instead she walks away slowly, throwing a glance over her shoulder that threatens to undo me all over again. As soon as she sinks down next to Carson, I brace both palms against the counter, trying to catch my breath.
I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want her.
Not even Carson or Hunter.
But I can’t lose control. Not now. Not when everything isteetering on the edge. And not when the girl we’re all falling for is stuck between three alphas, a possessive beta…
…and a past she might not be done with.
I could lose her. Hell, I don’t even have her, and I’m afraid of losing her.
CHAPTER 44
Hunter
She does exactlywhat he tells her to.
Willow moves from the kitchen to the couch on autopilot. She sinks into the couch and clutches the soft pillow Carson bought her to her chest. She curls her legs up beneath her, tucking herself into the corner of the couch—tiny, guarded, her peaches-and-cream perfume dimmed beneath something…heavier.
Disappointment.
I feel it before I smell it. That slight sag in her shoulders. The way her eyes flick toward Graham’s back, then away.
I glance at Carson, who’s sprawled out beside her, his arms stretched along the back of the cushions, deceptively relaxed. But I see the tension in his jaw. He felt it too. Saw it all unfold in the kitchen, same as me. He could’ve stopped it. Hell, I could’ve too.
But we didn’t.
