Page 16 of Wild Games

“You clearly have some skills.”

Between this and his super sniffer, there’s more to this so-called broken wolf than meets the eye.

“Is that so hard to believe?” He stands from the chair and closes the distance between us. “You think that because my wolf isn’t like everyone else’s, that I can’t help people? That you need to be whole to be a healer?” He tilts his head as he edges closer. “Maybe I understand needing help better than most.”

His expression darkens as his nostrils flare, hungry eyes scanning me from head to toe. Being close to him is like teetering on the edge of a cliff, not knowing which way I’m going to fall.

“I didn’t say that,” I whisper, my gaze locked onto his plump lower lip, the urge to lean forward and bite it bubbling up inside me, seemingly, from nowhere.

“You didn’t have to.” Another step. Now we’re practically toe to toe. “But what most people don’t appreciate is that being broken makes me want to help others in pain. Not inflict more.”

His eyes swirl with something wild and dangerous, but I can’t look away, even as I jut my chin out defiantly and refuse to back down.

“Except for me.” I challenge. “Because you know what denying a mate bond does to a wolf. So don’t stand there and pretend you’re all sunshine and rainbows.”

Jax’s head snaps back like I’ve struck him, but his stunned expression lasts only for a fraction of a second before he eases in even closer, the predatory look in his eyes growing more and more intense.

“I’m not denying anything. I feel it, just like you do.” He tilts forward, one hand resting against the wall behind my head. “And I want it, just like you do.”

The small space suddenly feels suffocating. His scent surrounds me, filling my lungs with each breath. When he licks his lips and reaches out to touch the end of my ponytail, I’mdone. All pretense of resisting him, any illusion of willpower, is gone.

Fuck, he smells so good.

My head spins as I try to step back, overwhelmed by his sheer size and presence, but the counter at my back leaves nowhere to retreat.

Jax towers over me, all firm muscles and tanned skin, as he tugs my hair tie loose, and my blonde waves tumble around my shoulders. He dips his head, breathing against the pale strands, until his cheek is so close to mine, that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin.

From deep within his chest, a low rumble starts, his wolf rising to meet mine. Jax doesn’t even attempt to hide it.

“What do you need to know?”

8

CAMILLE

Iblink hard, trying to get my brain back online. Is he? Is he talking about the case while he sniffs my hair and pins me against the countertop?

Determined not to be the loser in whatever game this is, I clear my throat and switch back into investigator mode.

“When did the first reports come in?” I force my voice out as steadily as possible, trying to pretend that neither of us can scent my arousal growing thicker in the air as he presses his hard body against mine, his obvious erection resting against my stomach.

Unable to meet his eye while my panties flood with my desire for him, I stare at his arms instead, at the bulging veins running thick down his arm and rising under the skin of his forearm before shifting as he rests his other hand on the counter beside me.

That didn’t help. In fact, it might have made things worse.

“After the first event. Three wolves complained of slow healing. Two were about minor injuries taking days instead of hours. One badly shattered ankle that needed to be put in a cast because it took so long to start knitting back together.”

He pulls a file out from under his arm with steady hands before flipping through the pages. All the while, we both pretend my arousal isn’t thick in the air, and he’s not poking me with his hard-on.

“Unusually slow healing, probably from their supernatural powers being suppressed.” I stare at him as he reads, entranced by this version of him that I hadn’t expected. “How did they get the injuries?”

When he locks eyes with me, my core clenches, the bond firing between us with an intensity that’s breathtaking. He runs his fingers through my hair.

“A forest trail run, no sparring, or anything like that. Bad weather ultimately ended the first race, and the conditions were pretty treacherous by the end.” Paper rustles as he sorts through reports. “But nothing that would affect healing.”

I bite my lip, trying to concentrate on what he’s telling me. On ignoring the urge to rub myself against him, to wrap my hand around him and see if he’s as big and thick as he feels.

“And the rain would have washed away any traces of magic immediately, so you didn’t detect it then.” I reason out loud.