I tried to create distance between us. “Actions speak louder than words, and nothing but honey drips from your mouth.”
He chuckled darkly. “Your sharp tongue and wise words make my wolf sing. Is my embrace not enough to prove I don’t care about the opinions of others?”
“I’m sure you embrace a lot of women in this club. Look around. What strangers think matters less than your family, and consider how you hid me away in your room like a dirty secret.”
The song changed to something sexy and slow.
Without taking his eyes from mine, Lorenzo knelt down and a flicker of sexual desire sparked in his irises. It made me want to grip his hair and feel him nuzzle between my legs. He rose back up and placed my cane in my right hand. Lorenzo wasn’t about to dismiss me like someone who had displeased him. A tremor of anticipation rolled through me.
He lowered his chin, a few strands of hair slipping in front of his face. “Let’s get one thing straight: it’s no mystery that I have a voracious sexual appetite, but I have committed no sin by taking bitches to my bed.”
“I’m beginning to like that word even less when spoken from your lips.”
Lorenzo stroked his fingers down my knotty braid. “Have you ever noticed that in the modern packs, the only men who use the term bitches are unmated? It used to be a compliment that she was a dominant female. But humans have muddied the word, and because we have to defend our women whenever the word is used as an insult, its meaning has changed for some. You’re the first woman I’ve met where I wanted to tear a man apart if he called you that name.”
Lorenzo tugged me to a dark corner and placed his hands on the wall, pinning me with his body. “You’re not just the woman in my grandmother’s dreams. You are the woman in my dreams. The one my spirit wolf has been calling for. If you give me the word that I can pursue you, then neither my body nor mind will desire another woman. So keep growling, because it only makes me want to rip the buttons off your shirt and take you where we stand.”
When he moved his body against mine, it drew a light gasp from my lips. His hand slipped beneath my shirt and cupped my waist, burning like a brand against my flesh.
“Give me your answer, sweet Ivy,” he said against my cheek.
“Two conditions,” I said, pushing him back with my hand. “Treat me supremely and be willing to bend, mighty oak. Bend to my words, bend to advice, and bend to the idea of leading with respect and not tyranny.”
His mouth twisted into a crooked grin. “Is that all?”
“It’s much more than you think it is.” I tugged at the ends of his long hair. “Your pack will judge and criticize you when they see me at your side. How you react to their judgment directly links to my conditions. Hold me like you would grains of sand, and remember how it takes so little for me to slip through your fingers. I’ve been through so much pain in my life, and I’m careful with my heart.”
“I will hold it like precious glass.”
Was I accepting his offer to court me? I felt such an enormous tug at my heart whenever I thought of Lorenzo—such a fierce desire to know him, even though he was imperfect. Could any of us claim perfection? Goodness, right there in the stench of that club, surrounded by flickering lights and loud voices, I fell in love with him just a little bit more. Not all the way, but the light drizzle had turned into a steady rain.
“Have you slept?” he asked, stroking my brows with his thumbs. “You look tired.”
“I can’t sleep with all this around me.”
Lorenzo’s powerful arms embraced me and his heart thundered against his chest. “Can you sleep with all this around you?”
Chapter 17
Lorenzo was able to order a warm cup of cocoa from the bartender even though it wasn’t on the menu. The staff knew him well since his pack brought a lot of money into the Blue Door, so they made exceptions and honored his requests. The cocoa relaxed Ivy, just as he’d hoped. He ordered William to stand guard outside the door to the room the Weston pack had rented.
Austin greeted him coldly, as expected, and most of the other men in the pack merely lifted their eyes to meet his before looking away. A television on the left wall played silently. Two of the chairs had been pushed together, and Denver was sitting on the floor, leaning against one. Lorenzo couldn’t see who he was protecting, but Denver carried a look that was all too familiar to Lorenzo.
So did the rock singer, Jericho, whose pregnant female was lying on the couch beside him with one leg on the coffee table. Women were so peculiar during pregnancy. Strange cravings, mood swings—as if their sleeping wolf were growing temperamental.
Alexia was stretched out on the opposite sofa, wrapped up in a blue blanket with her straight hair hanging off the edge.
Lorenzo leaned against the door and watched Ivy as she coaxed Lynn off the barstool and onto a pile of blankets. That’s when he looked around and realized his woman had no place to lie down.