Page 8 of Ranger’s Justice (Lone Star Wolf Rangers #1)

CHAPTER 7

RUSH

T he air in the room is thick, electric. Cassidy stands her ground in front of me, arms crossed, her chin tilted up in that way that makes me want to either kiss her or throw her over my shoulder and carry her the hell out of here before she does something reckless. Knowing her, it’ll be both before the night’s over.

“We do it my way,” I remind her, voice steady. “That was the deal.”

She snorts out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Your way? You mean standing around while Hollister keeps making moves?” She shakes her head. “That’s not a plan, Rush. That’s waiting to lose.”

“I don’t wait to lose.” I step closer, the space between us disappearing, and she doesn’t move back. I can hear the rapid pace of her heartbeat, see the fire flickering in her eyes. “But you charging in without backup, without knowing what we’re dealing with, isn’t happening. That’s not a plan either, that’s suicide. I won’t let you get yourself killed because you’re too damn stubborn to listen.”

She tilts her head, her lips curving slightly, and I know I’m in trouble before she even speaks. “Won’t let me?” Her voice is quiet, almost teasing, but there’s steel beneath it. “That sounds a lot like a challenge, Ranger.”

“Not a challenge.” My voice drops lower without warning. “A fact.”

Cassidy steps even closer, close enough that the scent of her—something warm, addictive, uniquely her—wraps around me like a damn noose. I should take a step back, put some distance between us before this spirals into something neither of us are ready for. But I don’t.

“You act like you have all this control,” she murmurs, tilting her chin up so her breath is warm against my throat. “Like you can just order me around, tell me what I can and can’t do, and I’m just supposed to fall in line.”

“You should.”

She laughs, quiet and sharp, before pressing a finger to the center of my chest. “But I won’t and we both know it.”

My muscles lock. “Careful.”

She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Or what? You going to bite me? You may be able to shift into a wolf, but you’re not a beast. You are the one in control and you and your men use your wolves to protect and serve.”

Heat surges through me, the pull of her, the challenge in her eyes, something deeper, more primal, scraping against the surface. My wolf is damn near clawing at me to take control, to stake a claim, to remind her exactly what kind of man she’s provoking. But I hold it back, keep my instincts on a short leash, because Cassidy isn’t a woman you control.

My fingers curl around her wrist, yanking her flush against me. She lets out a sharp breath, but she doesn’t fight me. Her pupils dilate, her pulse thrumming against my grip, but she doesn’t back down. She never backs down.

“You really want to find out what happens when you push me too far?” My voice is little more than a growl, low enough that the men on the other side of the room won’t hear, but she does.

Her lips part, her throat working as she swallows, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she just watches me, waiting, daring me to make the next move.

She’s trouble. The kind you see coming a mile away, but don’t bother avoiding. Because deep down, you don’t want to. She has no idea—not really—what will happen if I lose control. She doesn’t understand what she’s playing with.

I don’t want to want her. I don’t have the luxury of wanting her. But I do.

The way she looks at me—like she already knows I’m holding myself back, like she’s daring me to snap—is enough to make my blood burn. I can still feel the way her body pressed against mine back at her apartment, the heat of her breath against my skin, the sharp edge of her defiance.

She’s not afraid of me, but she should be. She crosses her arms, her gaze heavy on me. I can feel it.

Then she says, "Maybe you should take a compliment when it’s given."

"That what that was? Seemed more like you testing your luck."

Her voice dips, low and smooth. "What if I am?"

I make the mistake of looking at her. Our eyes lock, and the air thickens, humming with something neither of us will name. Then my patience snaps.

The only thing I register is her. I toss her over my shoulder and take her into my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind us. I set her down, pinning her to the nearest wall—her spine pressed up against it, my body caging her in.

"You don’t know what you’re playing with, Marlow." My voice is low, rough, dangerous.

Her breath comes faster, but she tilts her chin up, eyes burning into mine. "Then maybe you should tell me."

I clench my teeth, fighting the need clawing up my spine, the hunger wrapping itself around me like a noose.

"You think this is a game?" My fingers tighten at her hips, making damn sure she feels every inch of me.

Cassidy’s breathing hitches, but she doesn’t back down.

"No," she whispers, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. "I think I scare you to death."

A growl rumbles in my chest before I can stop it. She’s playing with fire, and I should walk away before we both get burned.

But I don’t. Instead, I pin her harder against the wall, my lips grazing the curve of her jaw, my grip on her hips like iron.

"I don’t scare, Cassidy."

She shudders, her body betraying her, heat pooling between us. She swallows, her pulse hammering against my mouth.

"I think you do," she murmurs. "I think you’re afraid of what happens when you stop holding back."

She has no idea how right she is. My hands fist in her hair, tipping her head back, exposing the delicate line of her throat. My lips trace over her skin, barely touching enough to make her tremble. Her fingers tighten on my shirt, nails biting into my chest. She’s trying to hold on, trying to control this. She can’t.

Neither can I. One second, I’m fighting it. The next, I mean to possess her.

My mouth crashes into hers, rough, demanding, pulling a sharp gasp from her lips before she melts against me. I swallow that sound, deepening the kiss, letting the hunger I’ve been denying take over.

Cassidy matches me, fire for fire, her hands fisting in my hair, dragging me closer. I lift her effortlessly, pinning her tighter against the wall as she wraps her legs around my waist.

She’s a perfect fit against me. Too perfect.

Her body presses into mine, soft and hot, her scent wrapping around me, making it impossible to think. My lips trail down her throat, my teeth grazing her skin, marking her in a way she doesn’t even realize yet.

"You push too hard," I mutter against her pulse.

She jerks my head back, her green eyes wild, challenging. "And you like it."

Damn right, I do. My growl vibrates against her skin. My hand grips her jaw, angling her face as I kiss her again, deeper this time.

Cassidy gasps into my mouth, her body arching into me, her nails biting into my shoulders.

She’s reckless, wild, mine.

My fingers trail up her thigh, gripping her tighter, pressing her into me. She moans, a sound that makes my vision go dark, makes me want to strip her bare and take her right here against this damn wall.

But I stop myself. Just barely. My forehead drops against hers, my breathing harsh, my pulse a steady, punishing beat.

I need to walk away. I need to stop this before it goes too far. Because if I don’t, there won’t be any turning back. I set her on her feet—wanting and needing to put distance between us but knowing I won’t. I can’t.

Cassidy stares up at me, lips swollen, breath unsteady, her fingers still gripping my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.

Her voice is breathless, barely controlled. "This changes nothing."

My gaze locks with hers. "You don’t believe that any more than I do,” I growl.

Silence stretches between us.

I know what’s going through her head. Confusion. Fear. Maybe even denial. People don’t wake up expecting to find out the world isn’t what they thought it was. That monsters exist, not in fairy tales or nightmares, but in the shape of men who walk among them. Men like me. I hear her breath catch, her fingers going still on her thigh before she finally speaks.

“Rush,” she whispers, like she’s still testing the word, still trying to find solid ground. “What are we doing?”

I turn slowly, locking eyes with her.

She’s waiting for something—maybe an explanation, maybe an excuse. But there’s something else in her gaze, something soft beneath the fire. Something that makes my gut tighten.

“What we’ve both been wanting to do since I pulled you out of that warehouse,” I growl, my voice lower, rougher than I mean for it to be. The Texas drawl thickens when I lose control, and right now, it’s practically dripping off me.

My hands find her hips, gripping them firmly, pulling her flush against me. She molds her body against mine as if she were made for me. The soft curve of her belly presses into my hard abs, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. She knows what’s coming.

She reaches up, fingers threading into my hair, pulling me down to her. The second our lips meet, I stop thinking.

It’s fire. Pure, burning heat, searing through me like a brand. She gasps into my mouth as I deepen the kiss, dominating her with every stroke of my tongue, every rough scrape of my teeth against her lower lip. She meets me head-on, her nails raking against my scalp, her body arching into mine.

I don’t hold back. I press against the small of her back, pinning her between me and the wall. She’s all heat and need, all reckless hunger, and it’s driving me straight to the edge.