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The Gamma’s Second Chance (Crescent Lake #3) 15. Chapter 15 38%
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15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

NOLAN

I hold Cassandra close to me, my hands roaming her body as we snuggle together on my couch. My fingers drift to her hair, and I comb through it from her nape to the ends, lifting my hand back to the roots and repeating the gesture. The pads of my fingers massage her scalp before gliding through the silky tresses to the ends, enjoying the softness of the strands under my touch and the intimate act of playing with her hair.

And then I freeze, and drop my hand, resting it awkwardly and stiffly on her hip, my jaw clenching.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She frowns at me. “What for?”

“For touching your hair,” I clarify. “Running my fingers through it. I didn’t—I mean, I shouldn’t have—”

“I like it,” she says.

I blink at her and swallow, surprise and relief flooding me in equal measure. “You do?”

She nods, a soft smile tilting her lips. “It’s soothing. Please don’t stop.”

My hand is back in her hair before she finishes her plea, retracing the trail it blazed before. I scrape my nails lightly near the roots of her hair and brush over the long, warm, golden brown strands, then comb through the subtle waves and bends in the length of her tresses from her braids earlier. She relaxes more in my arms, and I do too.

I always wanted to play with Rachel’s hair like this after being intimate with her, but she was never a fan of her hair being touched.

Yet another part of myself I learned to hide and hold back when I was with her.

I drop a kiss to the top of Cassandra’s head and continue my stroking of her hair with one hand and her body with my other. Her naked skin against mine is divine and comforting, and the afterglow of our sex still lingers in our bodies and in the air around us. The blankets remain under us and near our feet, and I make no move to cover our bodies.

It would be a crime to cover the perfection lying next to me, the gorgeous female whose fingers trace over the tattoo of the lakeshore on my chest, relaxed and unbothered by our state of undress.

No one will see us. Everyone knows to stay away after my outburst and display of extreme rage, protectiveness, and possessiveness on the training field. They all witnessed me attack Sebastian, and even though they pretended not to, they all heard our bickering and watched me throw her over my shoulder—like I’ve been dying to do for I don’t even know how long—and carry her home.

I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t just worry for her pushing herself too hard after what happened yesterday, but also because that dickhead Sebastian was trying to spar with her while both of them were shirtless.

No fucking way was I letting that happen. Not when the scent from the shirt I gave her yesterday was likely already almost gone. His scent would have replaced mine completely, and my wolf and I were not cool with that.

At all.

At least my scent will stay on her for longer now. And she’ll have to stay with me and keep resting, because there’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight or out of my house for at least the rest of today. She needs to relax and let me pamper her—take care of her. Properly. The way I should have yesterday.

Yesterday. I glance down at her and clear my throat as I wrap my hand around her neck, tilting her face up to mine with my thumb under her chin.

“Yesterday,” I say, my voice soft and warm and still tinted with ecstasy. Her gorgeous green eyes widen, and she gazes up at me through her long lashes, a tremor of hesitation passing over her. “Yesterday, I said something…” I pinch my lip between my teeth as I shake my head and shut my eyes, trying to figure out how to explain myself to her. “The sentiment I tried to convey… Well, I didn’t convey it very well.”

Her eyes bore into me, waiting for me to continue, and I think back on our argument on the training field and here in the living room. I remember the words she used, the words that were an echo of what I said to her when I tried to ensure she was fine.

“I was so worried about you,” I say, switching tactics and caressing her jaw. “You scared me.”

She licks her lips, and her eyes lower for a moment. My hand tightens on her neck, lifting her gaze to mine again. “It wasn’t as big a deal as you were making it,” she says, brushing off the utter exhaustion she displayed yesterday, exhaustion that had her dozing in my truck on our trip home after Haven’s rehearsal. I’m not sure she realizes she couldn’t keep her eyes open for the drive.

“It was to me,” I say, drawing her in tighter. “I should have made that clearer. My only thoughts were of your well-being, because I hated seeing you like that and hated that I couldn’t do anything to help.”

She nuzzles into me, her cheek resting on my chest, and I thread my fingers into her hair again. “I overreacted,” she says, her cheeks turning pink with an embarrassed flush. “I thought you were only worried about my ability to do my job—our job.”

I frown down at her, and my wolf lifts his head to growl at me in my mind, cursing me for my stupidity and my inability to say what I actually mean because I’m always too much in my head about things. And for pushing Cassandra away in the process. “Like I said, my words came out wrong.”

“When did you realize I was upset?”

“I could see it in your eyes,” I say, gathering her hair into a ponytail and running my knuckle across her cheek right beneath her lashes. Her eyes flutter and her lashes tickle my finger. “When you yelled at me and threw my words back at me? Your eyes looked broken and bruised, like someone ripped your heart out and stomped on it, and I wanted to kill whoever it was. And then I realized it was me.”

A yawn stretches across her face before she can say anything in response, and I wrap her up tighter in my arms, a twinge of guilt pulsing through me. I was so worried about her well-being and exhaustion and potentially pushing herself too far during a workout, but I didn’t have any qualms about wearing her out during sex. I didn’t even think twice when she prompted me to fuck her harder.

“Damn it,” I say with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Her finger presses against my lips, and she gives me a small, frowning glare. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” she warns. “I enjoyed everything we did, and I asked for it. I wouldn’t have asked for it if I couldn’t handle it. During or after.”

“But—”

“Ah!” She pushes her finger harder against my mouth. “Don’t. I’m fine. Tired, but completely fine. It was more than worth it.”

She trails her fingers down my torso, tracing over my abs and brushing over the tip of my cock. I grunt, and my hips jerk, seeking the touch of her fingers as they glide back up my body to my chest. Her lips tip into a cheeky smile, her eyes shining with amusement and lust.

I shake my head at her, closing my eyes to hide the glimmer of pride I know is there from her praise and pushing back the need to have her again already. “Fine,” I growl, pressing my forehead to hers. “I won’t apologize. But you really should rest now. Let me take care of you, Daisy.”

She reaches up and places her lips against mine. But a yawn warps her face and forces our sweet kiss to end early, and I tear myself away from her reluctantly. “You need to rest. And eat,” I add. “Did you have anything before you went on your run?”

She bites her lip and shakes her head. “No. I know, I know,” she says, placing her palm flat on my chest before I can scold her. “I should have eaten something small, at least.” Another yawn parts her lips. “But I—” The yawn stretches wider. “I—”

“That’s it,” I say, jumping up and pulling on my shorts. Cassandra pouts at my now partially clothed body as she sits up, too. Her long legs slide along each other as she swings them over the side and her breasts push together as she grips the edge of the cushion and leans forward. I groan and rub my head and down the back of my neck, staring at the ceiling so I don’t see her gorgeous breasts. “You get yourself comfortable and get in bed. I will make you something to eat.”

I turn and head out of the living room and towards the kitchen, and Cassandra follows behind me. She pauses in the entryway, where both my shirts lay on the floor in a pile—the gray one I gave her yesterday that she still wore this morning and the black one I wore during my run and my tussle with Sebastian.

Cassandra reaches for hers, but a low, abrupt growl escapes me, and I bend down and grab the black one instead, tossing the gray one away as I hand it to her. “Wear this one instead. My scent is stronger on it.”

Her lips twitch with a small laugh before she slips the shirt over her head, hiding her perfect body from my eyes.

It’s for the best, though. She needs to rest, and everything about her is too fucking tempting. The fabric settles around her body, skimming her thighs, and I lean down and kiss her forehead. “Go. Get in bed.” My lips brush her skin with each word, and she closes her eyes and nods.

I almost sprint into the kitchen, wanting to return to her side as quickly as possible. My wolf whines in my head the entire time I’m prepping her food, even though he knows we’ll see her in less than ten minutes.

Instead of a full meal, I grab an assortment of foods that will be easy to eat, and she can snack on when she needs—crackers, cheese, fruit, dried meats, and nuts—and arrange it all on a fancy “breakfast in bed” tray my mom gave me that I’ve never used until today. I fill a glass with water and put a slice of lemon in it, then leave the kitchen and head to my bedroom.

Except, when I get upstairs and into my room, she’s nowhere to be seen. My bed is empty, the blankets still perfectly in place. Exactly how I left it this morning before I went for my run. I check the small armchair and the window seat next to it, but those are both empty as well.

Frowning, I set the tray of food on the dresser and storm out of my room, rushing downstairs to the guest room.

There, curled up under the blankets on the bed, is Cassandra, her eyes closed and her breaths already falling into a steady, sleepy rhythm. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt on her body, lifting it closer to her nose to breathe in my scent as she relaxes. She’s so content and peaceful, a soft, drowsy smile on her face.

But she’s in the wrong fucking bed. She should be in my bed. Like hell am I letting her stay in here. Alone.

I stalk to her bed and remove the covers from her, and her eyelids flutter as I scoop her into my arms and against my chest. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“I got in bed, like you told me to,” she says, her voice already thick with sleep.

I shake my head at her, my brow furrowing, and I grip her tighter to my body as I leave the guest room. “Did you really think after everything we just did together that I would let you sleep anywhere other than in my bed with me?”

She blinks her eyes open and stares at me, then she smiles as her arms slide around my neck and her head cocks to the side. “I thought daisies weren’t allowed in your room?”

“I’ve changed my mind.” She laughs, her eyes lighting up the way they always do when she smiles. As I climb the stairs with her in my arms, she tightens her grip on my neck, and I smile down at her, my own deep, resonant laugh echoing off the walls of the stairwell. “Daisies aren’t so bad after all.”

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