Willow was so accustomed to cataloguing her flaws compared to her sister, she was still reciting the long list when she realized Razor had crossed the small shop and was standing right beside her.
“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice low and solemn. “Not with me. I see you, Willow.You,with your gorgeous eyes and those fucking adorable freckles.”
He reached out, smoothing his thumb over the ones on her cheek as he tilted her face up toward his. “You,” he murmured, “with that resourceful, clever, stubborn brain of yours, and your angelic face that’s had me twisted into knots from the moment I saw you for the first time.”
Willow swallowed, caught completely off-guard by the sincerity in his tone. In the raw honesty she saw in his brutal, handsome face.
His hand left her chin to trail down the side of her arm, then onto her hip. “And these curves?” He exhaled a sound that seemed to be half-moan, half-sigh. “Don’t even get me started on what your soft, sexy curves do to me.”
“Razor . . .”
One small step brought her body right up against his. He didn’t move. He didn’t pull back from her, didn’t remove his hand from where it still rested on her hip. He didn’t even seem to be breathing from what she could tell.
But his eyes lit with amber sparks, crackling hot as he stared into her gaze.
Willow reached up, sliding her hands around the back of his neck and rising onto her toes until her mouth met his. She kissed him, unable to stop herself.
The things he’d just said, the way he’d looked at her, the yearning he ignited inside her every time she was near him . . . it was all too much. Compounded with the relief she felt to be able to touch him now and feel his warm, strong body against her, she could have kissed him forever.
Except she didn’t miss the slight flinch of his muscles as he brought his arms around her and kissed her back.
He’d been denying the gravity of his wounds, but she knew. He was in agony. His Breed genetics may be working to heal him on their own, but she couldn’t allow him to suffer another minute when she had the ability to help him.
He leaned into their kiss with a moan, his mouth moving hungrily over hers. The sharp points of his fangs grazed her lip as his tongue slid between her parted teeth. She wasn’t sure how she expected to keep her concentration focused on healing him when every cell in her body was lighting up with arousal, but she gently moved her hands from around his neck and brought her palms down onto the solid planes of his chest.
He kissed her harder, more feverishly, as she opened her mouth to him and mentally called upon her Breedmate talent to heal. A small vibration built beneath her fingers as the mending power awoke and began to flow into him.
Razor drew in a breath, his big body stilling against her. “Willow.”
“Shh,” she soothed him. “Shut up and let me do this for you.”
He slowly drew away from her. Although his brows were harsh, furrowed slashes over the blazing amber of his eyes, the look on his face was pure wonder. He stared at her as she worked on each wound, his gaze boring into her with unspoken awe.
Willow watched with satisfaction as each of his injuries knit together with fresh, healthy skin. “How does that feel?”
“Better,” he admitted, his voice gruff and low. “Almost as good as your mouth felt on me.”
Heat suffused her cheeks. “I liked the feel of your mouth on me too.”
The sound he made in the back of his throat was almost animal, a deep purr that sent shivers of electricity through her. He reached for her hands, and instead of drawing her back into his arms, he gently pulled her touch away from him.
“I think you’d better stop touching me now. I’m healed enough, and we need to keep moving before they send more men after us. Next time, they’re going to know to show up armed with more than just one UV weapon if they want to take me down.”
“UV?” Willow gaped at him.
He gave her a grim nod. “They didn’t come to play. Those first few shots they took at me were with ultraviolet rounds. Bullets I can handle. All it would’ve taken was one lucky shot of UV to ash me.”
“Oh, my God.” Her heart clenched at the thought. She’d been so relieved they had both survived, but she hadn’t even known the worst of it. “Who would make such an awful weapon to use against you?”
“There are plenty of people who’d prefer the Breed no longer existed. Most of them have been dealt with in recent years by the Order, but hatred for our kind runs deep. It probably always will.”
“I’m sorry, Razor.” She slowly shook her head, realizing it hadn’t been so long ago that she might have counted herself among that number. Her sister Laurel too.
In the space of a couple days, she’d come to view Razor as not only her ally and protector, but as the sole person she could trust.
She was coming to view him as something much more than any of those things.
Judging from the solemn look on his handsome face as he gazed at her now, she felt she was coming to mean something more to him as well.
