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.

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Chapter 72

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

his hand away.

almost lunch when I felt it.

down my back, between my Breasts. pooling at places I don’t want to think about. My shirt clings to me like a second

wave hits, more intense than before. My back arches involuntarily, thighs pressing together as if that could stop the throbbing ache building between them. “God… fuck…” I pant, saliva pooling in my mouth as

part is knowing Grayson could end this. One touch from him and this hellish fire would subside. But the thought of his hands on

knock at the door freezes me

You in there?” Pierce’s

but all that comes out is a choked groan. The doorknob turns–I forgot to

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

on top of everything else. “No!” I

Pierce is

than before. I can’t think, can’t breathe. Black spots dance in my vision as my lungs struggle for air. The ceiling

I lean into it, desperate for relief, before my eyes flutter open. The room comes into focus slowly–dim shadows, then

“G–Grayson?”

“Guess again, baby.”

playful, dripping

Riot.

Of all people.

dark eyes gleam in the half–light, amusement dancing in them as he takes in my state. His fingers trace my jawline,

night,” he says,

twisting the sheets between

as

manage to gasp, trying to roll away from him. “What are

the wet sound almost obscene in the quiet room. His weight shifts on the bed, the mattress dipping closer to

through me. “I won’t do anything.” His

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11:33 Wed, 20 Aug

Chapter 72

This is so humiliating.

he even

the bed. The sudden absence of his touch is both relief and torture. “Let me help you

me to sitting. My head lolls against his chest,

feel something cool

Water.

droplets spilling down my chin, my neck. His

between desperate sips, noticing the open window, curtains dancing in the night

rumbles through his

but another wave hits and I’m clutching at his shirt, face buried against his neck as

sound of his voice. “Grayson won’t be back for hours. You’re

out,” I manage to rasp, even as my body betrays me, seeking his touch. “You…need

me to get out Jess?”

my arm, leaving goosebumps in

falling off the bed in the process. My legs tangle in the damp sheets, and I can feel every fiber of the cotton against

oversensitive skin.

know what’s happening to you,” he says, his voice suddenly serious. “I know

“I won’t let you touch

34

of it.“, He

know,” I say before I

” And you believe

want to kill him. Right here. I want to slash his throat but I’m so fucked up

gasp, pride forgotten. “Why does it hurt so

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