Rille (Tribes, Book 2)

Chapter 30

What had she done?

Judging from her surroundings, she had done Preston, but what had happened up to that point?

Brielle remembered the party. She remembered drinking a glass of wine because the witch had been acting weird about it. She remembered Preston sending her off with Shaw and a scuffle in the hall. Then everything got fuzzy.

Bits and pieces came back to her. A streak of blood on a cracked wall. The feeling of fur clasped within her palms. Cold, cold water attempting to combat her fever. Yeah, none of that was coherent. Nor did it make any sense. There had to be connecting instances between those things, but she didn't remember any of them. Yet another night she was going to have to ask Preston about.

Why did she keep doing this to herself?

And why did her waist and shoulders hurt so badly? Brielle pressed a hand to the small of her back and stretched her neck one way, then the other. A hiss of discomfort passed her lips.

A strong, bare arm wrapped around her abdomen and pulled her back down against the pillows. "You're sober now?"

Good. God. Almighty.

Brielle had never heard anything sexier than Preston's morning voice, all rasp and gravel. Every inch of her body tingled with awareness, threatening to start another wave of... whatever they'd been doing all night.

Slowly, in time to the organization of her thoughts, Brielle wove a finger across Preston's chest. "Yeah, about that..."

"What?"

"Why did we end up in bed... you know... tango-ing?"

"Ava fed you Heat Potion," Preston explained. "It was meant for me, and it we hadn't... tangoed... it would have burned you alive."

"Oh." As far as excuses went, that was a decent reason. But, still. "There wasn't any other way to clear it out of my system except for trashing a hotel room like rabid animals?"

"You started it."

"As if."

Preston rose up on one elbow, looming over Brielle as if he would re-start it. For the umpteenth time, apparently. "If I instigated it, don't think you'd be resting so effortlessly right now. Had Ava given me the Heat Potion as planned, we would be here for days."

That sounded like a great time, actually. Brielle would never admit that out loud, however. It went against her character development. Or so she told herself.

"Assuming it was me in here with you and not the witch." Brielle stuck out her tongue.

Preston dropped his head, sucking Brielle's tongue into his mouth like candy, then devouring her lips too. When he pulled back, they were both breathless.

"You don't want to provoke me right now," Preston growled.

Brielle nodded, because she couldn't form words just yet. Preston had been tempting before. Before they had broken down and slept together. Before he had left her weary and aching, but oh so satisfied.

Tender fingers brushed tangled hair out of Brielle's face, then trailed down her cheek and neck to trace her collarbone. Preston's eyes followed his fingers, growing softer with each second he spent studying her.

"You're so beautiful," Preston breathed, as if the words had come unbidden and he hadn't meant to say them aloud.

Brielle giggled. A real, girly giggle that she hadn't heard come out of her mouth—well, ever. No man had made her feel safe enough to bring out her girly side. Apparently that was because she had been meant for a wolf.