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It was an uneasy position to find myself in. I didn’t like not knowing.

I thudded my fists into the bag, taking comfort in the rhythm until I grew tired of the repetitive motion and flung my gloves off, my frustration still brimming over. I approached the weight bench. I just needed to exhaust myself until I had no way to think. Until the only thing in my head was the blankness associated with deep sleep.

I chased peace, wanting silence and quiet, but all I could see was Jo and her uncertainty and fear as she’d described the accident.

The weights I selected were probably too heavy, but I didn’t care. I was punishing myself as much as anyone who’d endangered Jo. I was punishing myself for every mistake I’d made in the past, and all the mistakes I could see myself making now.

Jo tempted me and teased me, and she was really the number-one mistake I could see myself making. But I didn’t want to stop. It was like watching my own personal car wreck, one I couldn’t prevent. One where I couldn’t be certain I’d walk away with only cuts and bruises, or a cast on my arm.

When the weights became too much, I lay on the bench for a moment, my breathing heavy and labored. This was the exhaustion I’d sought, the kind that slowed my thoughts and made them too heavy to try and sort through.

Once my breathing had slowed and my eyes had started to close on their own, I forced myself up. Although I chased sleep, I needed to shower and go to bed properly. If I fell asleep sweaty in my gym, I’d wake up grumpy and full of aching muscles.

Then I’d really feel old, and I probably wouldn’t be all too popular at work, either.

I smiled at the idea of Davina needing to deal with me after being asleep in the gym. I’d been bad enough after a night on Dad’s floor. And that had only induced aches rather than ill temper.

I headed to the shower and turned it on, already anticipating the jets of water against my tense muscles. As the liquid beat against me, thoughts of Jo entered my mind again. I wanted her hands everywhere the shower touched.

Everything about her intrigued me, made me crave more contact. She was beautiful and her sense of humor aligned with mine. We shared jokes easily. I grinned as the sound of her laugh floated through my head. Things were even better if I succeeded in making her giggle.

That reaction brought me inexplicable pride whenever I caused it.

I wanted to bring her into my life and protect her. More than that, I wanted to bring her into my life andloveher. My wolf wanted her in a way he’d never wanted anyone at all. He wanted to claim her as his own and never let her go.

But I wasn’t sure.

I no longer loved. I did business, I took things. I never gave, and I didn’t even fuck around.

Only Jo.

She’d sneaked past my defenses and my rules, and now I wanted her.

I wanted to worship her, skim my hands over her body and kiss every inch of her skin, touching her and tasting her while bringing her to the highest heights of ecstasy again and again.

She’d never get that from anyone else but me, because I’d make it my primary mission to ensure her pleasure and happiness in a way no other man would be able to claim to do. She’d be my sole focus. The one thing that truly mattered.

And my wolf would have it no other way.

All of my memories of Jo flashed through my mind. I could see her and feel her and taste her, and I wanted her.

I’d never wanted anyone so badly before. Not so much that I could almost manifest them before me.

I wanted to touch her, and I wanted her to touch me.

The longer I thought about her, the harder my cock grew, and I reached down to stroke my hand along my shaft. Right from my balls to my tip. A shudder of pleasure ran through me, and I closed my eyes to imagine the touch was from Jo.

I braced myself against the wall, one hand flat against the tile as I stroked myself again, a pumping motion up and back down before I focused on the head, running my fingertips around and over it, reveling in the sensitivity there as I released a breath and pressed my teeth into my lip as I pushed my hips forward, seeking more friction.

My cock was heavy in my hand, the skin tight as I swelled farther, my excitement growing as my imagination brought Jo into the shower with me, running her soft hands over my shoulders before dropping to her knees and looking up at me, her lips parted and ready.

I rocked my hips forward again, pushing into my hand the way I wanted to push into her mouth, her body.

A gasp escaped me, ragged and uncontrolled, and I sucked in a matching inhale.

I slowed my thrusts, making them almost lazy, drawing out my indulgence as I panted with each movement, enjoying the sounds of my pleasure.

Then my actions grew more urgent as I chased an orgasm that suddenly seemed long overdue, and my balls tightened, pulling against me.


Tags: Viola King Paranormal