She blinked. “Is that Gaelic?”
“It’s a lot of things,” he said. “Location of the schools?”
“First New Hampshire and then Maine,” she said. “What do you do for a living?”
His thumb caressed her jawline even as he continued cupping her head. “The Grizzlies own a garage, and I work on bikes. Sometimes cars. For now.” He leaned down and kissed her nose. “Why are you a virgin?”
She jolted. That was direct. “It was an all-girls school with a university component, and I’ve only been out on my own for a brief time. A doctor at the school was the first to diagnose my tumor.” Which was probably why they’d finally allowed her to leave. Oh, she knew they liked taking her aunt’s money, but they had to graduate her sometime.
“Why didn’t you go home to Texas?”
“There was nothing there for me with my parents both dead.” She frowned. “Apparently whatever money my father left has been tied up in a trust all these years.” She rubbed her chest, feeling oddly safe for the first time in years. She should be terrified of him, but what scared her more was dying without ever living at all. This was her one chance. “Garrett? Do you want to kiss me again?”
“Yes.”
She reached up and slid her hand over his chest. Even his neck felt strong. “I’d like that. One kiss.”
Chapter Seven
Garrett barely heard her soft words. The woman was a beguiling mixture of laughter, innocence, and spunk. He would’ve bet his lips had rusted into a permanent frown, but she’d made him not only smile but chuckle several times in one day. A kiss? Yeah. He could give her that.
Her beguiling gaze skimmed to his mouth.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He wasn’t a gentle male, but he’d try to be for her. Her lips were soft, full, and already curving beneath his. She was a fast learner.
She made a little sound in the back of her throat, pouring fire throughout his body. Every nerve lit up, her essence spreading through him, searing his torso, arms and legs, even his hands and feet. It was as if she lived inside him for the briefest of moments, filling him with light.
It wasn’t possible that this tiny human could make him feel so much—he’d been going dead inside for years. Oh, he’d planned to do his duty, his many duties, but joy had left him long ago. The dreams that plagued him had leeched parts of him away.
Now he felt alive again. It didn’t make sense, but he needed to protect her. Part of him desperately wanted to shield her. The other part, the primal being at his core, wanted to lose himself in her.
Her hands slid up to tangle in his hair.
He broke the kiss and slipped his hand beneath her shirt to flatten across her abdomen. Somebody had apparently given her a pair of leggings and a cotton shirt to sleep in. It was a good thing he’d asked Honor to take care of her—he owed her big-time. Dessie’s skin felt impossibly soft against his work-roughened palms. He couldn’t mistake her sharp intake of breath.
She leaned up and nipped his neck. “I love your neck. It’s so strong.” The need in her voice spurred the beast inside him.
Unfortunately, he never went into a situation blind, and now he wanted to protect her as much as himself. “Why do you have a tactical knife with your name engraved on it?” He leaned down and nuzzled his way from her neck to her clavicle, which he licked.
She shivered and angled her head to give him better access. “Professor Samuelson handcrafts them and gives them to every graduate.” She sighed and arched against him, effectively pushing his hand closer to her breasts. “He says we’ve been protected by the school for so long that we don’t understand the outside world and that every girl needs a knife.”
Garrett gave in to temptation and set his palms on the undersides of her breasts, letting the fullness warm his fingers. He couldn’t disagree with Professor Samuelson. “Did he teach you to use it?”
“Yes.” She arched against his fingers, her nails scratching down his bare chest. “He also joked that he didn’t want us to stab ourselves. The college is so small that he can hand-engrave the silver for every graduate. Oh, and he also sells them across the world and is the wealthiest professor at the college. But he loves teaching.”
“What does he teach?” Garrett would need to do a deep dive on the good professor once he heard from Chalton about Dessie.
“Art, sculpture, and art history,” Dessie said, her voice breathless.
He caressed one breast, cupping it. Her soft moan had him struggling to stay in control. He encircled her nipple and then pinched, at first softly and then with more pressure as he heard her heartbeat increase. At the same time, he slid his other hand down into her leggings, tapping her mound but not coming close to where she needed his touch.
“Garrett,” she moaned, her reactions so honest his chest hurt.
“How good are you with the knife, kitten?” he murmured, sinking his teeth into her earlobe. His fangs started to drop, and he shoved them ruthlessly back up. The last thing he needed was her learning about immortals.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, her voice sounding distant. Her little body tried to gyrate against his hand, so he flicked a quick finger along her clit and then moved on to her thigh.
Her whimper of frustration had him smiling against her skin, although he felt the same way. His cock throbbed, and the blood rushed through his veins too fast to hear. “How did you end up in California?”
