I want so badly to reach for her. To draw her in and wrap her up against me. I want to press my face into the curve of her neck and breathe her in until the world makes sense again.
“Warren?” she whispers, those big brown eyes looking right at me. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
And my heart melts.
Warren’s Bathroom
Tansy
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” I ask, but immediately wish I hadn’t.
Warren goes very still. Not stiff. Just quiet in a way that makes my stomach drop. There’s something off about him tonight, a tension I can’t place. It’s like he’s holding himself together by force of habit. Like today took something out of him.
For half a second, I brace myself to apologize, to take it back before it turns awkward or worse.
But then Warren exhales and finally finds his voice. “Yes,” he says. “Of course. I would love nothing more than that.”
Relief hits me so fast it almost makes me dizzy.
Then he adds softly, “Beck’s in my room.” He looks at me as if he’s praying that isn’t a problem.
“I know,” I say quickly. “I just want to be near you. Near both of you.”
Warren studies me for a second, like he is making sure I mean it, and I do.
“I was with Grason and Cass all evening,” I say, feeling very awkward admitting that out loud. “And it was amazing, but I kept thinking about the rest of you.” I glance away, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.
The confession feels strange coming out of my mouth.
I’ve never been the kind of person who needed people this way. I’ve always kept a little distance, even with my closest friends, but something about this pack keeps pulling me in.
I clear my throat, then whisper, “I missed you.”
And that seems to do something to the alpha.
Warren’s eyes widen, the air in the small bathroom suddenly feeling thick, charged with something soft and exciting. He doesn't say anything right away. He simply lets my words hang between us.
Then he whispers, “You missed me?” His voice is hushed with disbelief.
"I did," I breathe, nodding slightly. "While I love Cass and Gray, I needed more…I needed,” I stare at my feet, “You."
The air around me shifts as Warren’s scent grows. Sandalwood, oakmoss, and fresh wool.
I can feel his gaze on me, the temperature in the room growing warmer. I shift on my feet as I nod, suddenly hyper-aware of how thin my nightgown is.
"You have no idea what that does to me," Warren says, his voice rough, dropping a full octave.
Heat burns my cheeks, and I look up.
The alpha in front of me looks so fucking intense and gorgeous at the same time.
His dark blond hair is still wet, slicked up in all different directions. Soft droplets of water clinging to his shoulders and chest only accentuate the hard, defined lines of his muscles. But it’s his face that truly undoes me.
The dark shadow of stubble on his jaw and chin gives him a rugged, dangerous edge, a sharp contrast to the warmth in his eyes. They aren't just dark with arousal. They’re soft, too, filled with a tenderness that makes my chest ache even as his desire burns.
He looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. Like he wants to devour me inch by inch.
It’s a dizzying mix of passion and love all directed solely at me.
