Falling for the Billionaire Wolf and His Baby (Blood Moon Brotherhood 1)

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Now.”

She stood, unsteady. “Okay.”

In ten minutes, they were climbing into a car she’d never seen before. She buckled Oscar into the car seat and tried to breathe but the throb of her head reminded her that Thomas had left his mark upon her—physically and mentally. She reached back, probing the wound and wincing. The gash felt deep—her hair was sticky and matted. When he’d done it, she’d barely registered what was happening. The burn of tears made her close her eyes.

She shouldn’t think about Thomas.

She shouldn’t think about anything.

They changed cars several times. Finn was there at her side, his voice encouraging and his hand on the base of her spine. It helped keep her fear at bay, even as exhaustion crept in. Sometime before dawn, they checked into a hotel. She had no idea what city they were in, but the hotel was all glitz and glamour, with crystal chandeliers and perky desk attendants going on about room service and spa treatments. She let Finn do the talking and carried Oscar to their room. Baby supplies were waiting on one of the beds, but Oscar was still sleeping. She pressed a kiss against his forehead and took a shower, washing her hair and standing under the water until she was too tired to stay on her feet. She tugged on the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, changed and fed Oscar, and collapsed on the bed.

Finn made phone calls—lots of phone calls—and the even pitch of his voice gave her some sense of calm.

But when he finally turned off the light and headed for the shower, sleep wouldn’t come. She was aware of the guests next door, laughing and talking loudly, and the faint ding of the elevator down the hall. She heard the water running in the shower then Finn getting into the other double bed. He tossed and turned, punched his pillow into submission, then flopped back onto the mattress. His sigh echoed in the room.

Every squeak Oscar made, every creak of the mattress spring, Jessa’s eyes would pop open and her heart would pound.

She turned, rolling onto her side to stare at the sliver of light that spilled in at the edge of the window. She heard the creak of Finn’s bed, heard him pad across the floor to the bathroom and come back minutes later. But then there was silence. She jumped when Finn’s hand rested on her hip.

“You need sleep,” he whispered.

She didn’t argue or pull away from him. Her heart thundered, yearning for his touch.

The mattress gave as he climbed onto her bed. He didn’t say a word as he wrapped himself around her. His arm, thick and heavy, slid around her waist. His heat seeped through the terry-cloth robe she wore. And it felt good. Too good.

She closed her eyes.

His hand rested on her rib cage. His breath fanned the skin at the nape of her neck. One muscled calf slipped between hers, his toes brushing the inside of her foot. She was more distracted than ever now. But in a completely different way. Her body hummed, alive and awake.

Chapter Seven

What the fuck?

His wolf was happy.

So, why wasn’t he? Why was he lying here aching for more? She was in his hold, so damn close he could feel every breath, every beat, every shudder. He could smell her soap and shampoo, her skin, the faint tang of blood, the scent of her arousal…for him.

She wasn’t asleep any more than he was. She’d been through hell today. From the slight tremor in her hands as she’d fed Oscar, he knew she was barely holding it together. He’d wanted to offer her comfort—instead he’d put them in a precarious position. The last thing she needed was him coming on to her. Still, he wanted her. She wanted him. He was hard and throbbing, needing her.

But acting on it had permanent consequences.

His wolf wanted her as his mate—an unbreakable bond. A bond that would ensure Jessa never had a normal life again.

He lay there, taking slow, deep breaths, willing his heart to slow down. She dropped into an uneasy sleep, her body going limp and pliable in his arms. His brain wouldn’t shut off. He’d worried about Oscar, but she’d keep him safe. And that scared the shit out of him. The woman in his arms had no idea how important she’d become to him. He turned, pressing his nose along the curve of her jaw and the soft skin along her neck. She could have been killed. He could not lose her.

It was a long night. Nightmares kept her from a deep sleep. Every whimper or twitch had him whispering reassurances in her ear. He rolled onto his back and pulled her close, trying not to react to the feel of her hand on his bare abdomen, or the exquisite torture of her breath on his chest. He buried his nose in her hair and forced himself to relax. He’d be no good to either of them if he didn’t get some sleep.

When he woke up, Jessa was changing Oscar on the other bed. She was speaking softly, her smile so sweet he ached.

Oscar’s long leg kicked out, catching Finn’s attention. A little hand popped up—his son stretching and wriggling. Finn sat up, watching with curiosity. So, small. So, perfect.

He stood, and smiled as the baby’s eyes tried to focus on him.

Finn chuckled.

“Breakfast,” Jessa said, offering him the bottle.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her long blond hair fell over one shoulder. Her huge green eyes were shadowed but bright. She smiled at him, offering him the bottle.