More worrisome, why did she feel like she knew him despite knowing almost nothing about him at all?
Her thoughts spun. Her feet wouldn’t stop moving. She kept seeing him in the gym, his muscles flexing, his fists beating the bag, everything about him solid and strong and unforgiving.
Her fingers touched her lips. Her body ached for his touch. He might exorcise his demons in the gym, but she needed something entirely different.
She’d built a career on taking calculated risks. Trusted her instincts as much as she’d trusted her training. And right now, her instincts were screaming. There was one sure-fire way to clear her head.
Yanking open the door, she saw Wolf’s brows hit his hairline right before she pulled him into her room and kissed him.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Garrett had been leaning against the wall outside Claire’s door, trying to convince himself he could spend the night on guard without thinking about kissing her again.
I should tell her everything. Admit the truth.
Then the door flew open, and as if she’d read his mind, Claire yanked him inside. In the next heartbeat, her mouth was on his.
He froze. Shock and desire warred in his chest. This was wrong. Her emotions were heightened because she was feeling vulnerable, and he was hiding an awful secret.
But as her mouth moved against his and her fingers wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, desire won out.
His hands found her waist, her shirt riding up, exposing her skin. She tasted like mint toothpaste. Her fingers clenched his shirt, holding on like he was the only thing keeping her from floating away.
The door was still open behind him. Garrett kicked it shut without breaking the kiss. Every reason he shouldn’t do this evaporated the moment her tongue swept against his.
He managed to pull back an inch. “Claire.”
Her pupils were blown wide. “Don’t you dare suggest I don’t know what I’m doing. Tell me this isn’t what you want, too.”
She was so damn beautiful. “Of course I do. But you’re exhausted. You’ve been through hell.”
“And I might die at the hands of a serial killer.” Her hands slid under his shirt, fingers splaying against his abs. “I want you. Unless you don’t?—”
He kissed her. Hard. Claiming. Because not wanting her was impossible.
She’d been in his head since the moment Vivi had shown him her photo. Every wall he’d built had started crumbling the second he’d met her in person. Now, with her hands on his skin and her body pressed against his, those walls didn’t just crumble.
They shattered.
He walked her back toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. The back of her knees hit the mattress and she sat, looking at him with an expression that was equal parts vulnerable and determined.
“Last chance to stop,” he said. His voice was rough, barely controlled. “Because if we do this, everything changes.”
“Will you get fired?”
“Probably.” He grinned. “It’ll be worth it.”
“Then we do this.” Claire’s hands went to the hem of her sweatshirt. She pulled it off in one smooth motion, revealing the tank top underneath. “Stop trying to protect me from my own choices, Wolf.”
Wolf. Not Garrett. Not Bobby.
The reminder should have stopped him. Should have made him confess everything before this went any further. But she was reaching for him again, pulling him down to her, and he was too weak to resist.
He’d tell her tomorrow. After Derek was caught. After she was safe. After he could look her in the eye and explain why he’d kept the secret.
Tonight, he’d be selfish. Tonight, he’d take what she was offering and try not to think about how badly this would hurt when the truth came out.
His mouth found hers again, softer this time. Less desperate. More deliberate. He wanted to memorize this. The way she tasted. The small sound she made when his teeth grazed her lower lip. The way her hands gripped his shoulders as if she was afraid he’d disappear.
