Page 18 of Wild Games

“Camille.”

Just my name, but something in the way he says it, stops me cold.

I look up at him, ready to snap again, but something in his expression makes the words die.

“Jax...”

His head lowers slowly, giving me time to stop this—I should. He looks as conflicted as I feel, caught between want and whatever’s holding him back. He’s going to reject me after the case.

I’ve been here before, unwanted, and I swore, I’d never put myself in this position again. But here I am, pining after a man who’s destined to break my heart.

This is a bad idea.

Then his breath warms my lips.

My hands find his chest, fingers spreading over hard muscle hidden underneath his dark T-shirt.

His heartbeat pounds under my palm, fast and uneven. He’s vibrating with the effort of moving slowly. The heat between us builds to unbearable levels, and the space between us starts crackling with tension.

“This is a bad idea,” I whisper, out loud this time, as my fingers curl into his shirt and then tug him closer to me.

“The worst,” he agrees, but his head drops another fraction. “I’m broken. You don’t want me.”

My eyes flutter closed. “Don’t tell me what I want.”

I feel the warmth of his breath and the slight roughness of his lips barely touching mine. The contact is so light that it might be my imagination, but it sends a shiver of anticipation racing through me, regardless.

“Camille,” he whispers against my mouth. “I never thought…”

The anticipation builds with each shared breath, each second we don’t move.

One of us needs to either close that final distance or step back. But neither of us moves, caught in the sweet torture of almost giving in.

9

JAX

The words hang between us, her name on my lips like a prayer I shouldn’t be saying. Every instinct screams at me to pull back, but my body won’t obey.

Instead, I lean closer, drawn by forces stronger than logic or fear.

Her pulse flutters wildly in her throat, visible in the soft hollow where neck meets shoulder, making my wolf fixate on that spot, on the place where my mark should go.

She’s ours, he reasons. She’s able to handle us.

My hand moves without permission, fingertips grazing the skin there.

She shivers at the contact, a soft moan escaping her lips, that shoots straight to my cock, which aches to be inside her.

“You should stop me while you still can,” I murmur against her mouth, giving her one last out, even as my hips press forward, letting her feel exactly what she does to me. Her eyes fly wide at the contact, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of colour remains.

“I should,” she agrees.

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” I warn. The spike of arousal in her scent makes my control fracture. My wolf surges forward, desperate to claim what’s ours, and I bend my knee, shoving it forward to part her thighs.

“What if I don’t care?” Her voice is breathless and challenging, even now. Her hands fist tighter in my shirt, holding me close rather than pushing me away.

The last thread of my restraint snaps.