“What the fuck?” I whisper as he grins down at me.
“Thought I wouldn’t catch you?” he asks playfully.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t need babysitting.”
He shrugs. “No. But we like guarding you.”
“I just want to go to the library,” I sigh. “Nothing’s going to hurt me there.”
He shuffles his feet. “I just like being with you,” he says quietly.
I don’t know what to say to that. What can I say? He and Owen are the ones I decided not to take revenge on, and he’s been perfectly nice while he’s been guarding me. With a sigh, I take his hand and interlace my fingers with his. He smiles at me.
“All right,” I tell him. “You can help me look for information on agropelters.”
We walk hand-in-hand to the library, which is still open. There’s one sleepy man at the reception desk. He just nods at us, then tips his head back and closes his eyes.
Despite his enormous size, Bennett seems at home in the library. He quietly pulls down books and cradles them in the crook of his arm, doing everything with his free hand, since he refuses to let go of me with the other. We sit at a table in the back corner of the library in a spot sheltered by bookshelves. The armchairs are comfortable and close enough together that Bennett doesn’t have to let go of my hand. He rubs his thumb on the back of my hand absently while he reads.
I squeeze his hand and try to pull my own away, but he glances at me. “You’re too far away,” he says simply. He pats his lap.
“Are you serious?” I laugh.
He continues gazing at me, and then tugs on my hand. With a sigh, I get up, scooping up the book I’m reading, and lower myself into his lap. He hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me down into a more comfortable position. I end up sitting with my legs over the arm of his chair and my head nestled against his shoulder. He leans his cheek against my forehead.
“Much better,” he says quietly.
I smile, leaning my book against my thighs. He’s warm and solid. His face is clean-shaven; not a hint of stubble scrapes against me. He’s so tall that he’s more comfortable than the chair I had been sitting in before. I nuzzle a little closer, allowing myself to take comfort in his closeness.
Last year, Bennett was the only one of the boys to truly apologize for his actions before he had to. He followed along behind his friends and did what they asked. He seems to have come into his own now.
“How’s Owen doing?” I ask, turning the page of my book.
“It’s, uh … coming up to his time of the month again.” Bennett starts rubbing his hand up and down my back, sending tingles shivers up my spine. “He decided to stay in the menagerie this time.”
“I wish there was something I could do to help.”
Bennett shrugs and I lift my head up and look at him. “After a while, he’ll be able to get some control of his wolf form. I’m not sure there’s a cure altogether, but we’re looking for one.”
He’s still looking at his book. Close up, he’s even more handsome. He’s got a strong jaw contrasting full, soft lips. Without thinking, I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his cheek. I just want to know what the skin there feels like against my lips, and he’s so close.
I realize what I’m doing and pull back. “Oh, sorry,” I mumble, looking down at my book.
Bennett carefully takes the book out of my hands. My heart begins thumping in my chest as he leans forward, his torso folding a little over mine, to set the book on the table in front of us. All his movements are slow and deliberate. Maybe he has to move so carefully because he’s so big.
Without the books, I’m keenly aware I’m just sitting in his lap for no reason. He gazes at me for a long moment; the hand resting on my back slides up to cradle the back of my head, and he leans toward me. I lean forward to meet him, and we kiss.
He pulls me tighter. His slow carefulness is gone. He’s rough, grabbing, his fingertips digging into my skin. My lips part and his tongue touches mine. I fumble with the edge of his shirt and push my hand onto his bare stomach, feeling his abs. They’re amazingly hard and well-defined—exactly like I imagined. I let out a quiet groan, sliding my hand up to feel his chest as well. I’ve never felt anyone so muscular, so huge.
He breaks the kiss only to whisper, “Do you know how hard it is to be near you and not do this?”
“Do what you want, then,” I tell him.
It’s like a dam breaks loose. He grabs my leg and yanks me into a straddl
ing position, running his hands up my thighs to grab at my ass. He presses his lips against my throat, brushing them downward, where he bites down, hard, on my shoulder. I bury my face in his hair to muffle my groan. His hands push underneath my shirt, traveling upwards to my breasts until they slip underneath my bra to grab me roughly.
Beneath me, pressing against me, is a hard bulge. I rub myself against it, and he lets out a strangled noise somewhere between a growl and a moan. I tangle my hands into his hair and pull at it, forcing him to look up at me. I press my lips to his. His hands slide around to pull me to him, I reach down to the button of his pants. I have to have him, I don’t care about the consequences, I don’t care what happens—