Damien's Dilemma (Ch 27)

Within seconds he had butter melting on the griddle, the eggs cracked, and milk poured into a bowl of mix. He threw her his most charming grin, or at least he hoped it was charming, as he whisked the ingredients. Instead of sliding into the chair he’d pulled out for her, she stood there, trying to make the oversized t-shirt work for her. It hung loose on her shoulders and only covered the top of her thighs. His desire for pancakes was quickly waning, especially since he could see her breasts fairly well through the thin cotton.

“You’re staring at my boobs.”

“Yes.”

“Not fair.”

“Polite? No. Fair? Hell, yes. You’re wearing my shirt.”

“So that gives you the right to stare?”

“I feel like there’s no good answer here.”

“Actually, there is. The answer is ‘No’.”

“Ah, maybe that’s what was tripping me up. I was debating between ‘yes’ and ‘maybe’.”

She smacked him on his arm. “How would you like if I stared at your package after you shift, and you’re completely naked?”

Damien started unbuckling his pants.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked, her wide-eyes stirring him even more.

“Playing fair. Giving you the chance to stare.”

His pants dropped with a noticeable thud, and she averted her eyes. “Good grief. Male shifters are all exhibitionists.”

“It comes with the territory.” He waggled his brows. “Would you like to explore my territory?”

“Exhibitionist and cheesy,” she said, trying to hide her laugh by sucking in her cheeks. It was a look that went right to his cock.

“I’m an acquired taste, Sweetness. Care to taste?” Damien shook his hips, his erect cock swaying to and fro in a way that felt like a mating dance. This was right, natural, and his Tess was smiling, her eyes no longer averted but watching him intently, lowering to his cock.

Her laugh finally bubbled to the top, and she covered her mouth, fighting the laughter. He loved when she laughed. She looked so carefree and relaxed. She needed to do that more, enjoy herself. If it meant he’d have to fling cheesy lines at her, then so be it.

“Damien, I’m trying to be serious. Get dressed.”

“Only if you help me.”

“Like I’m going to fall for that. Nope, won’t happen.”

There it was. Her resolve had returned. “Worried that I’ll touch you?” he asked as he fastened his pants.

Her smile disappeared. “I’ve been touched enough, today.”

Slowly, Damien leaned his forehead against hers and simply breathed. He didn’t know what to say or do, how to return her sense of security, how to erase all the horrors she had suffered at the hands of the WSSO and one of his own shifters.

“Tell me what to do, Sweetness.”

He listened to her breathing, heard her swallow, hard, as if she was fighting her emotions. “Don’t hide from me. You’re safe here, Tess. Scream at me, or cry, or hit me if it helps. Just don’t hide from me.”

Her hand moved to his cheek. “I don’t want to hit you. Or cry. I’ve done enough of that, don’t you think?”

“You do what you need to do. And tell me what I should do because I don’t know. Being alpha doesn’t mean I have all the answers. It just means I get stuck making decisions in shitty situations.”

She pulled her head away and kissed his forehead. “I think you’re a wonderful alpha. And if you want to help me, just be you, okay?”

He lifted his eyes to her. “You’ll tell me if I scare you?”

“You don’t scare me, Damien,” she said, and then her brows pinched together. “You’re stuck, aren’t you? Not sure what to do, what to say?”

He nodded. He was lost. This was new territory for him, and he didn’t like feeling out of control.

“Follow your instincts.”

“What if my instincts are more than you can handle?”

“Then I’ll tell you, okay?”

Damien pressed his lips to hers. He couldn’t help himself. It was as much instinct to lay his claim on her as it was the need to reassure her that no one would touch her again. The kiss lasted long enough for his cock to harden. He slowly dragged his tongue from the base of her neck, over her delicate throat, along her jaw, and finally to right behind her ear.

She tasted of flowers and fresh, clean water, and smelled of him, not that bastard who tried to kill her. Ian’s scent clung to her the entire time Damien carried her home. Damien hadn’t said a word or dared to lick her then, though his wolf had howled at him to replace the offensive odor with his own scent, marking her as his. She’d been too shaken, too upset, for any overt moves.

Even now he wasn’t sure if what he was doing would upset her, except he had to trust that she’d tell him if he pushed too hard, or too far. She had washed the bastard’s scent off of her and come down to the kitchen skittish, only to stand up to Damien moments later. Damien’s Tess was stronger than anyone gave her credit for.

With a palm directly against his face, Tess pushed him away, but she was definitely smiling again. “I’m not some chew toy you get to lick to ensure no one plays with me.”

“You almost had it right, Sweetness. You’re not a chew toy. But if you were, you’d be mine and mine alone. Understood?” There was no levity in his voice, now. He needed her to know that she was his. If she even touched another shifter, Damien would rip his head from his shoulders.

The smile slid from her face, replaced by a lost look that made him want to hold her and never let go.

“Why’d they kill my pack, Damien?”

That bastard Ian had told her. Damien should have told her about her pack right after the meeting. If he’d only come inside instead of going for a run, Ian would never have gotten near her.

“I think the WSSO didn’t want anyone searching for you.”

“My dad, my sister…” She turned her head away, trying to hide her tears.

There was no question in Damien’s mind. He’d kill the bastards for what they had done to her—for taking her family and pack from her, for torturing her and destroying her confidence, for every time she hesitated when he drew near.

“I can’t stay.”