Bending Steele (9 page)

And so did he.

***

Steele slumped down onto the couch across
from the fire. Hexe had a nice flame going now, but it didn’t seem
to ward off the chill that lingered through the house. Exhausted,
Steele lay her head back against the luscious cushions and closed
her eyes, the only sounds in the house the crackle of the nearby
fire and the steady thrum of Hexe’s breathing. In and out.
Calming.

They’d both changed out of their frozen
clothes, she’d borrowed some of Hexe’s stuff. It felt weird wearing
his scent, but she wasn’t going to complain. They were dry and
warm. And more importantly, she could still fight in them if the
killer came back.

“You okay?” His deep voice rumbled through
the small cabin, drawing a skating shiver down her spine.

The floor creaked under his weight and Steele
blew out a harsh breath. No. She wasn’t okay. She didn’t like not
knowing if that man was dead or alive. She wanted him dead, his
blood on her hands. Her teeth ground together and she shook her
head.

“No.” Her gaze to cut to his. Hexe leaned
against the counter, arms folded over his chest as he watched her.
She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his muscles
flexed in his arms as if he had to hold himself back. A low growl
rippled out of him.

Obviously he didn’t like being caged in here
by the storm either.

“How long do you think it’ll last?” she said
with a tilt of her head towards the door.

Hexe shook his head and shrugged. “You would
know better than me. Normally I don’t care. I have enough food
stored in the cellar out back to last me a few weeks and I’d keep
myself busy.”

His jaw flexed.

This was a version of the man she hadn’t seen
before. She’d seen the ruthless King when he’d been with the tribe,
she’d seen the soft man when he’d been trying to lure her trust…but
this was different. The man standing in the room with her now was
both of those combined. The King in him wanted to protect his
people, wanted to be out there hunting. He cared, and that
compassion lent him a ruthless, lethal edge that stalked his gaze
now.

Caring didn’t make him weak, at least now. It
made him all the more dangerous.

Steele leaned back against the couch and
watched him. His inner struggle played out over his face, a dark
storm raging in those green-gold eyes.

“You cared about her,” Steele said. Hexe
started to shake his head and Steele snorted. “Don’t bullshit me.
It’s driving you nuts that she died.”

“I was her King. This bastard is striking on
my land. In my mountains.”

A smile toyed at the edge of her lips as she
waited for him to relent. But when Hexe turned his attention back
to her, a different fire blazed in his eyes. Not the furious rage
from a moment ago, but hunger. Desire. He shoved away from the
counter and stalked towards her, making the hair rise on the back
of her neck. Steele instantly moved to get her feet under her,
tensing for a fight, but something inside her insisted he wasn’t
dangerous.

Not to her.

“I care about you in a different way,” he
said, his voice low, dark. It reminded her of the eerie howl
outside. Primal. When he reached a hand out for her face, Steele
didn’t back away. She couldn’t help but remember his kiss. It felt
like years ago after the day they’d had and she wanted another.

Wanted to taste him again.

His thumb traced the edge of her jaw and
Steele reached up and caught his hand in hers. She slid it around
the back of her neck and stepped closer, helping him draw her in.
Surprise flickered in those emerald eyes and she smiled, dark and
predatory.

She liked shocking him.

His shirt clung to him. Tucked into his
pants, it outlined every muscle down the length of his torso. The
hard, jagged edge of his face that had so fascinated her once was
softer now. Around his eyes the skin was still raw from the weather
and Steele wondered if she looked like that too.

Silence stretched between them as she stared
up at him, the quiet whir marred only by the snap of the fire and
the rush of the wind outside. Standing here with Hexe, it was
almost easy to forget that a woman had died today, that a killer
was still out there. It was even easier to forget why she’d wanted
so desperately to push him away.

He hadn’t run. He hadn’t left that girl like
her father had left her mother. Hunger burned in those cat-green
eyes, a dark, devouring aching look that made Steele catch her
breath. She swayed as his thumb traced her jaw again, and she
realized with a painful clutch of her heart that she wanted this.
One hand skimmed along her waist, only to slip under her shirt and
she felt the heat of his hand against her bare skin.

Still clothed in his night black shirt and
loose cargo pants, she felt more naked than she ever had. He’d
stripped her of her defenses, seen her as her. Steele. Not just the
vicious cat bitch that lingered on the outside of the tribe, the
one who liked her solitude, and only liked the group from the
fringes. He saw the woman.

The little girl who’d lost her mother, who’d
been abandoned by her father.

And more importantly, he hadn’t once given up
on her or anyone else. Every time she’d pushed him away, he’d come
back. When she’d needed him out there, when she’d broken down, he’d
held her. And when that woman had needed help, Hexe had followed
her. He’d tried.

For once, maybe, she was seeing the man.

“You just don’t stop, do you?” she asked, but
this time it wasn’t with the bitter bite of anger. Instead she
followed the words with a smile. He never stopped.

Before he could answer, Steele shoved her
hands into his chest and sent him toppling backwards. Swiping one
leg behind his, she tripped him and sent Hexe crashing to the
floor. Surprise gave her the advantage she needed. She slammed her
lips down over his and he let her in, yielding. He was still tense,
waiting for a fight, but he kissed her back. His hands locked on
either side of her face he held her to him, drinking her down.
Tasting her every bit as much as she tasted him.

And damn, but he tasted incredible.

Her hands roved the broad width of his
shoulders, down the lean muscled ridges of his arms. There was so
much strength there, carefully held back. Steele broke the kiss
first, only to rake teeth down along his jaw. Hard enough that he
shivered beneath her and she could feel the twitch in his cock
pressed against her belly, the thin fabric of his khakis leaving
little to the imagination.

She kissed him again, softer this time. “Fuck
me, Hexe.”

His attention flicked to the door and Steele
nipped at his jaw.

“We barely found our way back. He’s probably
slipped off the edge of a frozen cliff somewhere.”
And died an
excruciatingly painful death if there were any gods in this
world
.

His hands found her hips, but the hunger in
his eyes had faded. “Why the change in heart, Steele? A week ago,
you wanted me dead.”

Damn. She started to shove away. If they were
going to sit around analyzing feelings she’d take her chances on
the storm. But Hexe held her there, groin to groin, and she could
feel the bulge in his pants. He wanted this just as badly as she
did.

So why was he doing his best to chase her
away?

“It’s not a change of heart.”

“So you still want me dead?”

Her jaw tightened and she looked away.

“I already said I didn’t. Fuck, Hexe. Don’t.”
She swallowed. “What I want is a night with you. We don’t have to
analyze why.”

His hands turned soft against her hips, blunt
fingertips kneading into her muscles. “Yeah we do.”

He held her, patient, and Steele didn’t want
to look at him. She knew what she’d see. Those cat green eyes—damn,
but those eyes—watching her, waiting. Seeing everything.
Frustrated, Steele jerked away, stumbling to her feet.

“Fine. Never mind.” She turned to grab a
blanket and crash on the couch when Hexe caught her, his grip
gentle on her arm, but he didn’t let her when she jerked to get
away. For a moment, old habits kicked in and she started to reach
for her knife only to stop herself.

She stood there frozen, torn. A week ago
she’d wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but now, the
thought of going back to complete silence again ate at her. Hexe
didn’t press her either. He waited and the silence stretched
between them. When she finally looked back at him, she could see
the King, the ruthless warrior of a man that no one dared to
challenge. It wasn’t just in the sharp cut of his jaw, the wild,
feral light in his eyes. It was the intensity in which he watched,
knowing he’d pick up every nuance, down to every breath, every
blink.

Nothing would get by him.

She knew he could see her inner struggle and
he was letting her decide.

She took a step towards him and then shook
her head. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t, I
can’t—”

His thumb traced a circle on her forearm.
“You want to know what I think?”

Steele squeezed her eyes shut. Her body still
warm with pleasure, tuned to his every movement. Ready, waiting.
But he’d always been one to read her so well, even before he’d
Marked her, when she’d lingered on the fringes of the tribe. He’d
known her better than anyone else, called her bluffs, told her
things she hadn’t been ready to hear. Her heart still wasn’t sure
she was ready. “No.”

Hexe reached out brushed fingertips over her
breast, down her side. “You hate being vulnerable. Hate thinking
someone might actually give a damn about you.”

Steele forced herself to snort. To laugh. “I
don’t care what someone else feels.”

“You also hate that you might give a damn
back.” Hexe stepped closer, closing the gap between them until the
hard length of his body was pressed against hers. “And if you open
yourself up for that again, you risk losing another chunk of your
heart if they go away.”

He kissed her, just a soft mingling of lips.
Tender. “I’m not going anywhere, Steele. I haven’t yet, have
I?”

No. He hadn’t.

Not over the months she’d tried to rebuff his
friendship or while she’d lived in his house.

And there it was, hanging between them. The
fact that she cared about him. Might have even loved him. Him and
his smiling picture of his parents. The soft way he looked in pride
at his house and labored over every last detail. The way he’d held
her out there in the snow and said things she’d tried to tell
herself but had never been able to believe.

Until Hexe.

He’d forced his way past the ice in her
heart, but she didn’t know what to do now. Walking away… Eyes
burning, she felt a tear slide down her cheek. A moist kiss against
her skin. Walking away might not be an option anymore, if it ever
had been.

Hexe swiped a finger under her eye, his gaze
suddenly soft. “Don’t cry. Damn woman, I never meant to make you
cry.”

She snorted. “It was just one. Don’t get
cocky.”

He laughed, a rusty, deep-throated sound that
she wanted to hear again and again.

“Why’d you pick me? Every other woman in the
tribe would have been happy to have you. You wouldn’t have even had
to fight.”

Something inside him seemed to draw back.
Hesitate. Steele wanted to toss his words back at him, when Hexe
turned and looked at her. “I wanted to fight. You were who I
wanted. No one else.”

“Why? You didn’t know me.” But he had and
they both knew it.

“The standoffish woman with ice around her
heart? I wanted a partner, Steele. Someone who’d stand at my side
as an equal, in every way. You were the only one that ever had that
chance.” His lips found hers in a quick, delicate kiss. “The only
question that ever existed for me…is if you’d ever care back.”

In answer, Steele reached up and fit her lips
against his. Tentative at first, but when his tongue swept at the
seam between her lips, she opened and let him in.

Chapter
Eight

The hesitant, tentative way she kissed him
this time burned through him, igniting a wildfire under his skin.
He leaned into her, nibbling over her plump lower lip, loving the
sweet taste of her mouth. He slanted his lips over hers, exploring,
drawing little shivers through her body as she reached up to bury
her hands in his hair.

He lifted her, carrying her towards the
bedroom. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he opened the door
and stumbled inside, dumping her onto the bed. Hexe slid down over
her, pressing her back into the soft folds of his bed. When her
legs parted, his hips slipped between them, drawn instantly to the
heat of her core. He pressed against her, rocking as he tasted her
mouth again.

Everything about Steele was a heady mix of
light and hard. Dangerous and loving. She nipped, then soothed away
the touch of her teeth with tongue and kisses. Her nails bit into
his shoulders only to bury into his hair. Her legs wrapped around
his hips and suddenly he wanted more, needed it. He couldn’t
remember the last time he’d wanted someone this bad.

He ground against her, a ragged groan tearing
out of his lips as his hands skimmed along the edge of her shirt
and then slipped under. She was softer than he’d imagined, smooth
until his right hand bumped the old ripple of a scar. He traced it
and felt Steele gasp underneath him, her eyes going wide as he
pulled her shirt up, revealing all that pale skin to his eyes.

The scar was a long, thin white line against
the cream of her skin and he leaned down to taste it, lapping over
the edges, and her thighs squeezed around his hips, begging. This
time when his lips found hers, the kiss was fierce, feral. Her
hands stroked at his shirt, catching in the fabric as she tried to
tug it up and off. Hexe broke away and in one quick movement the
shirt was gone.