Page 12 of Rescued by the Alpha

“Is anything wrong?” Elam’s eyes radiated genuine concern.

“No. Just… it’s a little hot in here. I think I got carried away with the fire.”

Elam’s easy smile returned and something in Nic’s spirit settled. His mate shouldn’t ever be sad or afraid. Or alone.

“It is a bit toasty. I’m fine, I promise. You know, if you’d rather let it die down a bit.”

Elam bent to his task again, his demeanor no longer one of sorrow. After giving him one more

appreciative glance, Nic retrieved the cast iron skillet from the cupboard, leaving it on the counter so he could ready the wood stove. With Elam at the table preparing the ingredients for their meal, a flash of what his future could be like tore through his mind.

Don’t do this to yourself. Not yet.

Chapter Four

Elam dried the dish Nic had just handed him, the brush of their fingers sending a shiver up his spine as he’d accepted the plate. From the barest of touches. Something strange was happening to him, something he couldn’t reconcile. Despite swearing off men for the foreseeable future, the pull from Nic had captured him and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist. All through dinner they’d shared what seemed like flirty gazes, double entendre sneaking into their conversation and the occasional ‘accidental’ slide of one foot against the other.

He wants me too, doesn’t he?

Nic reached across him to pluck another dish rag off the counter, their arms pressing together as he did.

“Sorry,” Nic mumbled, then returned to his task of washing.

Elam lost the battle of keeping his erection at bay. “That’s all right. Nothing to be sorry about.”

Would Nic catch the double meaning in his response? No double meaning. None whatsoever.

Elam glanced sideways at Nic, who was in the process of viciously scrubbing the skillet, his brow creased and his lips pressed tightly together. He seemed to be channeling some sort of frustration into the cooking accessory. Is it the same frustration as mine? Elam placed the dish he’d finished drying into the cupboard above the counter.

Maybe…

After all, once the storm was over, he’d be in his cabin and Nic would be in his. The danger of falling too hard and fast, of getting involved, wouldn’t be an issue. Right? Nic obviously had his own life, preferred being alone from the look and sound of it and wouldn’t exactly be right next door.

They’d have space. No reason to get into any pesky emotional entanglements.

Don’t throw yourself at him. His ego had already been bruised enough, thanks to Andy.

“Uh…” Elam cleared his throat. “Can I… Is there anything else I can help you with?” He tried not to cringe. His mind hadn’t been on dishes.

Nic poured water over the skillet, never glancing up, not answering. Right as the pause had begun to morph into the awkward, Nic set the pan down and met his eyes. Fire and need radiated from Nic’s gaze and Elam was lost. Any other considerations, any worries of getting too close, evaporated the instant Nic stepped forward and a strange warmth filled his body. The heat flooded his veins, pooling in his groin, stoking his desire to be taken—to be fucked hard—and filled in a way he’d

never known before.

Elam stepped back until he was pressed against the wall next to the counter, his unconscious movement striking him as being a primal response, as if he were being stalked like prey as Nic advanced on him. When Nic had moved close enough that they shared breaths, he placed his palms on the wall, framing Elam’s head. He stared into Elam’s eyes, and while he was sure it had to be a trick of the fire light, he could swear that a glow shone from behind Nic’s piercing blue gaze.

Nic lowered one hand then quested underneath the hem of Elam’s T-shirt, trailing his fingers across the waistband of Elam’s jeans. Elam gasped as Nic’s fingertips brushed his skin, his belly going tight from the electric sensation.

“O…oh God.” Elam could barely bring his words above a whisper.

“I need to hear you say yes.” Nic’s husky voice rumbled from deep within his chest.

Elam gave a jerky nod then remembered to verbalize his answer. The way he told me to. “Yes.”

Something teased at the edges of his consciousness, but he’d save it for later. “I want you.”

Nic crushed their lips together, yanking Elam against his body as he dug his fingers in Elam’s hair, clutching the strands, holding his head still as he continued to plunder his mouth. Closer. The maddening need, the compulsion to crawl inside Nic until they became one person both thrilled and terrified him.

It’s never been like this.