Page 31 of Just Right
As though he can’t resist it when I give him an order, his bear’s dark eyes lock on mine almost instantly.
No. Not good enough.
I shake my head. “Give me the man. I want Rowan.”
The big bear rumbles.
Worried tears—angry tears—glitter in my eyes. I make sure he can see them as I plead with him. “Please.”
His rumbles turn into shudders. He goes still, thensnap. I’m not kneeling in front of a bear any longer, clutching his fur. I’m on my knees in front of a powerful male, eye-level with his erection, my fingers digging into his right hip.
One part of me almost has to laugh. Somehow, I’m not surprised that battling a wolf and ending with a gash somewhere on his body would be enough to turn the oldest Brown brother on. Then again, maybe it’s the position I’m in, my breath panting softly, blowing against his cock as he goes immovably still under my possessive hold.
I want Rowan. I haven’t done anything to hide it, but though it would be so fucking easy to move my head and slip the crown of his cock between my lips, even I’m not that ridiculous. I like sex as much as the next girl—something both Colt and Finn… and probably Rowan, too… knows all too well—but there’s a time and a place, and without knowing how bad Rowan is hurt right now…
I scramble up and off of my knees. Pulling my hand back, pretending I don’t notice the flash of disappointment crossing his rugged features as I put some space between us, I whirl around Rowan.
And then I gasp.
I knew he was hurt. I saw the blood spray and fur fly when the wolf got a huge chunk out of the bear’s shoulder.
Now I can see exactly how the damage translates to the man.
It’s about eight inches long, two inches wide, and I hate to think how deep. That’s the gash stretched across his shoulders. It’s only one line, as though only one of the wolf’s fangs or claws damaged Rowan, but it’s nasty.
And he got it because ofme.
I go up on my tiptoes so I can get a better look. I brace myself against his uninjured shoulder?—
He hisses.
I let go. “Sorry. Are you okay?”
What the fuck is wrong with me? He just battled awolf, his back is dripping blood, and I’m asking if he’sokay? Duh, Goldie. Of course he’s not okay! But I ask because I have to, and I only have myself to blame when his answer is a sucking in of his breath before he grates out, “I told you to run.”
You know what? I’m so stinking pissed that he got hurt because of me, I almost want to dig my fingers into that gash and make him feel it. Run? Did he really think I was going to abandon him to that wolf andrun?
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I couldn’t abandon you.”
He shakes his head, slapping his hand over his shoulder, searching for the wound. “You should have,” he says flatly. “What kind of shit protector was I? That wolf almost got you.”
“It’s not your fault?—”
“Of course it is. I shouldn’t have…” Another rough shake of his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. The trail’s a dead end anyway, and it’s later than I wanted it to be. We’ve got to get you back to the cabin before that happens again.”
Is he serious? “You’re dripping, Rowan. Let me clean you up first.”
“It’s not necessary.”
Right. Because he’s a hardass. “I insist. There’s got to be a river nearby, right? Let’s stop at one, clean out the cut, and start back.” When he tries to argue, I cut him off. “You’re worried about another beast coming after us? Won’t they be drawn to the blood? Let me help you first.”
Rowan waits before me to finish. “I told you, Goldie. That’s not necessary. Look.” He shifts his shoulder, drawing my attention to it. “I’m already starting to heal.”
Holy shit. He’s not making it up. Though there’s still a gash on his back, it’s only about six inches now. The width has narrowed considerably.
