Page 139 of Pack Frenzy
“I know.” I keep my eyes on her. “Go get water. And something cool—a towel, ice pack, whatever’s clean.”
He disappears without argument. The sound of his footsteps fades, replaced by the slow rhythm of Jess’s breathing.
She tries to sit up and winces. “Everything hurts.”
“I know, baby. It’s starting.”
Her gaze flicks toward the door. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Probably not.” I crouch beside the nest, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. “But I’m not leaving you like this.”
I dip a hand toward the edge of the blanket, careful not to touch. “May I?”
She hesitates, then nods.
I peel back one layer so the air can move. The scent thickens immediately, heavy enough to taste—sweet and salt and want.My control cracks for half a heartbeat before I drag it back into place.
Eli returns with a bowl of ice water and a towel. I take it, wring it out, and press it gently to the side of her neck. She sighs, eyes fluttering closed.
“That’s better,” she whispers.
“Good.” I keep my voice low. “You tell me if it gets worse.”
Her lashes lift, unfocused. “It’s already worse.”
The words hit harder than they should.
I shift the towel, swipe the cool fabric along her collarbone. Her scent spikes in answer, curling around me like smoke. My body reacts instantly, predictably. I bite down a curse.
“Rowan…”
Her tone is wrecked—pleading and soft in a way that strips every defense I have.
I lean in, forehead almost touching hers. “You need to be sure before I take another step, Jess. Once we cross this line, there’s no going back.”
Her words slam into me—heat, want, the kind of need that scrapes bone.
My control buckles. I have to ask. Ihaveto.
I swallow hard. “Jess… yellow or green?”
If she says yellow, I’ll pull back. If she says red—God, it’ll gut me, but I’ll walk. I’ll do it for her. I’ll do it even if it tears me in half.
She grabs the front of my shirt, dragging me closer, breath hot and shaking against my mouth.
“Green,” she snarls. “Fucking green, Rowan. I want you so bad it hurts. I want all of you.”
The sound of it hits me low and brutal.
The sound of her hunger—raw, filthy, begging for all of us—hits me low and vicious.
Every wall I’ve built around her shatters.
I’m on her in the next breath.
I grab her waist and drag her into me, mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that’s been clawing at my ribs for weeks. It’s not careful. It’s not polite. It’s every fucking second I’ve held myself back finally detonating.
She moans into my mouth, fisting my shirt, my hair, pulling me closer like she wants me under her skin. Her body arches against mine, hot and shaking, and I swear I feel her tremble straight through my bones.
