Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

As soon as he saw me, his eyes narrowed at the man to my left, who wore nothing but a pair of silk boxers. “Did you touch her?”

 

 

The guy in boxers looked just like Wheeler—the Shifter with the tattoos April had introduced me to last night. They shared the same eyes, mouth, face, and dirty-brown hair. The striking difference was that he had no facial hair or tattoos. He seemed a little softer than what I imagined Wheeler must look like beneath his clothes, but they were unmistakably twins.

 

“Ben, get out,” the Packmaster ordered.

 

“What’s going on in here, Aus?” another voice said. I cringed when Denver moved into sight. His eyes widened when he saw me peering out from the corner of the shower. “What the hell is she doing here?”

 

Hell’s bells, this was Jericho’s pack!

 

I looked at his threadbare T-shirt with Popeye on the front. “Nice shirt.”

 

He ignored me and tipped his head at the Packmaster. “Do you know who that is, Austin?”

 

“Our guest.”

 

“That is Izzy Monroe. Ring a bell?”

 

Austin’s jaw set, and another person squeezed into the room.

 

“Is this a party?” Jericho blanched when he saw me.

 

“I really don’t want to be rude, because I appreciate that you let me stay the night and use your shower, but could you all leave the room? I’m naked.”

 

“I’m Austin,” the Packmaster said, stumbling over his words and looking at Jericho. “That’s Izzy? Your Izzy?”

 

“I’m nobody’s Izzy. I’m naked,” I reminded him. “Could you all leave before I completely lose my mind and start screaming? No offense or anything, I’m just naked in a room full of strangers!”

 

They hustled out of the room and slammed the door. I listened to them argue in the hall while I slipped into my baggy jeans and thin sweatshirt without drying off. I needed to make a quick exit. My shirt soaked up the water from my hair, but at that point, all I wanted to do was finish brushing my teeth with my finger and get the heck out before an explosive fight erupted.

 

I swung the door open and noticed everyone had left.

 

Except Jericho.

 

He had his arms folded and was leaning against the wall across from me with his leg bent at the knee. Reno and Austin were solid in height and stature, but Jericho snuck in just an inch taller. “Can’t seem to stay away from me, can you?”

 

“I didn’t know you lived here or I would have passed on the offer,” I said, closing the door behind me. I leaned against it as we stared at each other, just a couple of feet apart.

 

He stepped forward and dropped his arms. “What kind of trouble are you in?”

 

“My boyfriend is sorting out some personal stuff, and we’re temporarily separated until he figures it out.”

 

Jericho moved a little closer and tingles prickled at my neck. “Broken up or did you bail on him too?”

 

I sighed hard and pulled my hair back. “Look, Ivy was kind enough to offer me a place to stay, and you know I’m not a drama queen. I don’t want to do this with you right now—not with your pack around. I have a lot on my mind.”

 

My heart quickened when he closed the distance between us. His eyes lowered, and when I glanced down, I realized why. My wet hair had soaked the front of my shirt, and my nipples were pressing against the fabric. Jericho tilted his head to the side and engaged in a conversation with my chest.

 

“Where are you going to stay tonight?”

 

“That’s where I’m heading now. I’m going to check out some of the motels near the bar.”

 

His eyes—I swear I could feel him touching me. Jericho had only looked at me like that once before. I remembered it so vividly in my mind…

 

It was the night before he screwed that girl in our hotel room. We were lying in bed, watching a comedy show like we’d done a million times before.

 

Jericho spilled his Coke on me when he reached over to set it on the nightstand to my right. I called him a few names and laughed, taking off my shirt and tossing it across the room. That was the first time he had ever looked at me like that.

 

Wild and ravenous.

 

His eyes roamed over my chest like a force of nature, studying the white fabric of my bra and the shape of my breasts. He licked his lips, and his mouth looked like he wanted to taste.

 

I didn’t want to become another notch on his bedpost. Especially not with Jericho, because he slept with women left and right.

 

Before his lips met mine, I turned over and showed him my back.

 

“No, Jericho,” I said. “Let’s not go there. We’re not going to have sex because you’re having a moment of weakness. You can watch a movie if you want, just turn the volume down. I’m beat, so why don’t you go back to your bed.”

 

Jericho didn’t leave.

 

He pressed against my back so I could feel him in an intimate way that I never had before. The full length of his body, the warmth, and the desire.

 

He spoke sweetly against my ear. “Are you sure you want me to go?”