Page 27 of Gift Wrapped Protector

Unless someone was an asshole. Then all bets were off, and her manners went right out the window!

Jasper was not rude, and she did not think he was an asshole. Truthfully, she kinda liked that she had made him jealous. It was a first for her.

But Caro was just learning to stand on her own feet again, and she’d worked too hard for her independence to cow to his overbearing testosterone induced hissy fit. She would not allow any man to order her around again.

Not even one she wanted to ride into the sunset. All. Night. Long. Cowgirl-style.

Gulp.

Her feminine bits got all swollen and needy as she pictured the tall, gigantic, drop-dead gorgeous man that was Jasper Wessex. He was the physical embodiment of every trait and characteristic she’d ever found even remotely sexy in her entire life.

Spikey black hair, amber-gold eyes, full lips, tanned skin, and a deep, pleasant voice that made her shiver in anticipation. Not to mention the tiny fact that every time he touched her, she lit up like a Christmas tree.

As if he were attuned to her every need and desire. So yeah,Slutty McSlutfacethat she was, she’d opened her legs wide and let him have at her like she was his own favorite flavor, licking her from ass to clit like he would an ice cream cone.

Double gulp.

And there went her panties. She shook her head, removing the damp cotton and tugging on her sleep shirt. Fuck it. Who needed underwear, anyway?

But seriously, what else could she have possibly done after he’d flashed those smoldering eyes and that panty-wetting grin at her?

She could have tried to resist him. But why? He was obviously a bad boy, used to getting what he wanted, where she never seemed to. So yeah, Caro had given right into her carnal desires.

Sitting in the dark room, she looked out the window and frowned. It was snowing again, and swirls of white fluffy stuff floated by the double insulated glass. It looked picture perfect. Like a postcard, she mused.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and instead of being at some event with Joffrey, or with her small remaining family members, she was here. Trapped in a cabin in upstate New York. Just her luck she was sharing it with the most dangerous male she had ever seen in her life.

Jasper Wessex posed a serious threat to Carolina’s newfound freedom. But did she really want to be free? Even if her mind said yes, her body was emphatically opposed to the notion. All her self-control seemed to disappear around the sexy Shifter.

So freaking hot.

Even more so than the walking dildo. She snorted at the apt description. Obviously, ancient Egyptians were funny as hell.

Sigh.

Still, it wasn’t nice. She knew nothing about Medjed. No one did. Except for that whole shrouding the world in darkness thing, he might actually be a nice, decent sort of Demon. Not that she wanted to marry the guy.

Hellooo. Been there. Done that.

Joffrey may have inadvertently done a number on her self-esteem, but the truth was he wasn’t a bad guy either. Not really. He just wasn’therguy.

But was Caro really in a rush to replace him with an egotistical jerk? Even if Jasper had made her come harder than any other man in her whole life, that did not give him the right to tell her what to do.

She had plenty of adult toys. Carolina didn’t need him. Joffrey had wanted to cow her, but she’d refused to play the obedient wife. Strong-willed was one description her ex had used whenever he’d been displeased with her.

She bit her lip, wondering if Jasper would hate that about her, too.

Being an artist was not an easy profession, and even with her creative juices flowing, it took a lot of work. She’d had to beg and plead to get in galleries to show her sculptures.

Even blessed with good friends in positions to help, it had not been easy. Her parents had been patrons of the arts, and many of their friends—including Caro’s own godmother, who owned an art gallery—were as well. She had been lucky. Carolina understood that, but it was still work, and it took grit.

She was grateful for everyone who had helped along the way, and she was happy beyond imagination to do the work she loved. Most parents didn’t want to hear their kids say they wanted to be artists when they grew up, but Caro’s were always supportive.

Figuring she owed it to them, she’d studied hard and worked her butt off, failing a thousand times before finding that right bit of inspiration. She’d been blessed to create art that was sellable in the current climate, and she had made a small name for herself. Her professional life was golden.

Lucky at work, unlucky at love.

She hated that fucking saying. Even if it fit Carolina to a T. Although, she had to admit there was a definite shift in the dynamic of her sex life just recently.

---