“I already know how it’s going to go. William’s going to beat you down like the bitch that you are. And deep down, you know that too, because you never would have offered this ‘out’ if you thought you could win. Now get out of my way.”
He stepped aside, and as I passed him, he turned and said, “Go enjoy your retard while he can still associate with the clan.”
I raised a fist and spun toward him, getting right in his face. “Call him that again, you fucker. I dare you.”
In the low light, he actually looked afraid. Not so brave without his armor, to be frightened by a woman roughly half his size. I really wanted to box his ears or stub his nose. Or something else really painful. My palms were almost aching to slap the shit out of him.
He flipped me off and then disappeared behind the nearest tent.
Making rude gestures at his back didn’t help my frustration. With a weary sigh, I continued my search for William, that deep worry settling over me again.
He probably wasn’t in his tent. I would have seen the glow from his propane lantern. Lifting the flap anyway, I peeked in, but couldn’t see a thing. I was about to go search elsewhere when I heard a movement from the bed.
William had been lying down, but his strong silhouette in the dim light was easily detectable as he stood up.
“Jenna,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Wil!” I breathed, awash with relief. I pushed into the tent. “I was so worried about you. I didn’t see where you ran off to.”
He took another step toward me without saying anything.
Worried, I kept talking. “You didn’t, uh, you didn’t hear all that shit Doug said…”
He took another step and nodded, hands rubbing up and down his pant legs. I bit my lip. Shit. Was he angry with me? I had responded to Doug’s offer without consulting William, not giving him a chance to choose whether or not to forfeit. Maybe that annoyed him.
He moved forward again until he was standing right in front of me. My eyes latched onto the strong column of his neck and the bare part of his chest where his doublet was unlaced.
He smelled of sweat and soap and William. My breath caught.
“You turned down his offer.” He sounded incredulous. “But you need that tiara. I would have done that for you. I would—”
Without giving him a warning, I reached up and pressed two fingers to his lips to shush him. “I believe in you, Wil.”
His eyes flew to mine and his hand reached up to smooth my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed, and in seconds his hand slid around to the back of my neck. With a firm tug, he pulled me to him and our mouths met with enough force to shock me.
I was stunned at the power in this kiss, like a physical electric shock. And after that brief moment of surprise, my body fell against his, soft and pliant against his male hardness.
His free arm slid around my waist, holding me tight to him, and his kiss intensified, stealing my breath. I opened for him and he readily pushed his tongue into my mouth with enthusiastic vigor that I happily matched.
Eventually, our heads separated—just barely, though. And when I looked up at him, he was breathing hard, his dark eyes cloudy with desire, like a storm just about to break over the mountains. He was moving in for another kiss when I spoke.
“Wil, I—” But I never finished, because he pulled me to him again and kissed me so ferociously that I forgot my own name. I couldn’t think, but I could feel those warm, firm, delicious lips on mine. Those hands, which tightened and became more insistent with each passing minute. That solid chest under my questing hands. That body, which hardened against mine, leaving me fully aware of his arousal.
I began to unlace the rest of his doublet while he was feasting on my neck, caressing it in all the right places with hot, demanding, sandpapery kisses. He seemed determined to cover every inch of the sensitive skin there, and I certainly wasn’t going to argue with his need to be thorough.
When his chest was fully exposed, I started to kiss him there, and at that point his mouth moved away from my neck. I could feel his hurried, steamy breath in my hair as my lips skated over his rough, whiskered neck, sliding down the solid neck to caress his collarbone. One of his hands threaded through my hair, massaging my scalp, while the other went to the neckline of my dress, tugging at it as if trying to figure out how to get the dress off.
“Wil…”
“What?” he answered tersely, apparently consumed by his current goal of figuring out the puzzle of my dress.
“I need help getting this off…” I said.
“I really want it off.”
I laughed a little. “I, um, figured that out. I really want it off, too. As beautiful as it is—”
“It’s not as beautiful as you are,” he said, and then he continued to kiss me, taking an earlobe between his lips, caressing it with his tongue. My eyes rolled back in my head as a sizzle of pleasure zapped down my nerve endings straight to my core, heating everything in its path. Everything ached for him now.
I’d been aching for him for a while, in fact. And hopefully what was about to happen would satisfy that ache.
Slowly, I pulled away from him. It wasn’t easy. It was like walking against a windstorm, with resistance every inch of the way. But the moment he saw that I was turning around, he let me go.
“It’s laces, just like your doublet. Only they’re in the back,” I said, trying to catch my breath, knowing there was no way I could calm my racing heart.
Without a word, he tugged at the laces with abrupt, sharp movements. At first his movements were hurried, but gradually he slowed. Each time he pulled a lace from an eyelet, his hand touched my bare back and I shivered. He caught on quickly, making sure he touched me as he removed the laces.
My eyes drifted closed again and my awareness centered around his breath on my neck. He ran a rough index finger along the exposed part of my spine, seeming to enjoy the shivery reaction his touches evoked from me.
When the lacings were done, and before I could turn back around to face him, he tore off his doublet and pressed his hard chest to my back. “I like making you shiver.”
“It means I really want you.”
He was kissing me at my temple, my ear, my jaw. “I know what it means, Jenna.”
I laughed. Of course he did. “Wil, I want to have sex with you.”
“I know that, too.”
“I hope you want it.”