His Trouble Maker

Chapter 72

JESSICA

“Have you ever seen a she–wolf in heat before?”

Pierce dropped his fork and almost choked on his food, his eyes widening as he stared at me across our kitchen table.

“Fucking hell, Jess,” he sputtered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the hell kind of question is that during breakfast?”

I leaned forward, not giving a damn about his discomfort. My skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending raw and screaming. My birthday is in a week and there’s no explanation why I almost…let Riot kissed me.

“Answer me.”

My voice growls out low and rough, like it’s scraping up from someplace feral. My fingers bite into the table–wood creaks under the pressure, just like my patience.

Pierce’s nostrils flared, and I knew he could smell it on me–that raw, animal scent that had been driving me insane.

Pierce cursed under his breath. “I love you Jess, but–” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Is that what’s happening to you? Right now?”

“No.”

That’s a lie.

Both of us know that.

However, just talking about it makes me already uncomfortable. Mom is not around to ask this kind of question and I have no girl friend. Pierce is what I got.

Pierce who is now looking at me with those feral gaze.

“You know I can smell you right?” He growl, getting out of his chair and turning his back on me. “Look, it happens. It’s natural. But timing couldn’t be worse with-”

“With what? Training? Like I don’t fucking know that?” I stand up, knocking my chair backward. My skin feels too tight, and if I ended up touching myself again, I’m going to bury myself alive.

Pierce looks at me with a mixture of pity and concern that makes me want to scream. “I’ll get Grayson.”

“What?” The name hits me like a bucket of ice water. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

”

‘He’ll know…what to do. He knows how to handle you.”

“Handle me?” I laugh, but it sounds hysterical even to my own ears. “I don’t need to be handled. And especially not by him.” The memory of almost kissing Riot flashes through my mind, making my cheeks burn.

“Then what do you want?” Pierce throws his hands up. “Because right now, you’re a walking target for every unmated male in a fifty–mile radius. This isn’t just about you being uncomfortable, Jess. It’s about your safety.”

He’s right.

But still, I don’t want Grayson. I feel so sick just thinking of him touching me. However, the alternative is much worse.

“I can’t.” It falls out broken, more breath than voice.

He watches me back away, and I see it–the shift in his eyes. That sharp, hunting kind of dark I’ve learned to flinch from.

1/4

Chapter 72

“You need this,” he says, reaching for me. “You know what happens if you don’t”

slap his hand away. “I’d rather

when I felt it.

Sweat drips down my back, between my Breasts. pooling at places I don’t want to think about. My shirt

as if that could stop the throbbing ache building between them. “God… fuck…” I pant, saliva

would subside. But the thought of his hands on me makes bile rise in my throat, even

the door

there?” Pierce’s

doorknob turns–I forgot to lock it–and Pierce steps in,

eyes widening as they take in my disheveled state. He quickly steps back, pulling the door almost closed. “I’ll… I’ll get

humiliation on top of everything else. “No!” I manage to choke out. “Not

Pierce is already

stronger than before. I can’t think, can’t breathe. Black spots dance in my vision as my lungs

something cool touches my forehead. A hand. I lean into it, desperate for relief, before my eyes flutter open. The room comes into focus slowly–dim

“G–Grayson?”

“Guess again, baby.”

playful, dripping with

Riot.

Of all people.

my state. His fingers trace my jawline, sending shivers that somehow both

having a rough night,” he says, his thumb brushing

twisting the sheets between

eyes darken as he watches

manage to gasp, trying to roll away from

almost obscene in the quiet room. His weight shifts

me. “I won’t do anything.” His laugh is low, wicked, “Though watching you fall

2/4

11:33 Wed, 20 Aug

Chapter 72

This is so humiliating.

is he

feel his weight leave the bed. The sudden absence of his touch is both relief

lifting me to sitting. My head lolls against his chest,

feel something cool against

Water.

greedily, droplets spilling down my chin, my

sips, noticing the open window, curtains dancing in

laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah.

try to glare at him, but another wave hits and I’m clutching at

baby,” he whispers, and I hate how much I love the sound of his voice. “Grayson won’t be back for hours. You’re stuck

my body betrays me, seeking his touch. “You…need to get out.

to get

fingers slide down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Do

the bed in the process. My legs tangle in the damp sheets, and

oversensitive skin.

know what’s happening to you,” he says, his voice suddenly

his face. “I won’t let you

34

“You’re in heat, Jess. First time, from the looks of it.“, He walks over me and whimper just by his

I say before I can

expression darkens. ” And

I want to slash his throat but I’m so fucked up and the

pride forgotten. “Why does

worst,” he says, and there’s something like sympathy in his