Since he was my instructor, I took his words as the gentle threat they were and sighed.
When I’d first joined his group, he’d thrown me into the thick of battle without hesitation. I think he’d trusted his ability to protect me from any kind of threat more than he’d trusted my skills.
Then I’d proved myself and he’d backed off.
Then he’d accidentally stabbed me.
Yep. Him. He’d aimed for the zombie snarling and biting at him; I’d stepped in to help, and, with a single touch, ashed the only thing shielding my body from his strike. Cole had yet to forgive himself.
Maybe that was why he’d built a wall.
Maybe he needed a reminder of just how wily I could be.
“Cole,” I said huskily, and his eyelids lowered to half-mast.
“Yes, Ali.”
“This.” A slow smile spread as I circled my hands around his ankles—and jerked. He slid off the bed and thumped to the floor.
“What the hell?”
I leaped on top of him, pinning his shoulders with my knees. The action caused the scar on my stomach to throb, but I masked my wince with another smile. “What are you going to do now, Mr. Holland?”
He watched me intently, amusement darkening his irises. “I think I’ll just enjoy the view.” He gripped me by the waist, squeezed just enough to make sure he had my full attention. “From this angle, I can see your—”
Choking back a laugh, I took a swing at him.
“Shorts,” he finished, catching my hand just before impact. I wasn’t given the chance to tug free. He rolled me over, stretched my arms over my head and held me down.
Tricky slayer.
“What are you going to do now, Miss Bell?”
Stay just like this and enjoy? I could smell the pine and soap of his scent. Could hear the rasp of our breath intermingling. Could feel the heat and hardness of his body pressing against me.
“What would you like me to do?” I met his gaze, and the air around us thickened, charged with electricity.
Would he touch me?
I wanted him to touch me.
“You’re not ready for what I’d like you to do.” He searched my face as he reached between us, his actions belying his words...please, please...until he slowly pushed the hem of my tee over my navel, revealing every inch of damaged flesh.
He looked me over, and my stomach quivered. Heck, all of me quivered. He crawled down, down, and kissed one edge of the wound, then the other, and a moan left me.
Please. More.
But a moment passed, then another, and he merely returned to his former position, driving me crazy with his nearness but never doing anything to relieve the tension spiraling inside me.
“One more week of rest,” he said, his jaw clenched as if he’d had to force the words to leave his mouth. “Doctor’s orders.”
I shook my head. “I’ll ask Bronx and Frosty to train me.”
His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “They’ll say no. I’ll make sure of it.”
“At first, maybe.” Definitely. Everyone always followed Cole’s rules. Even other alpha males recognized a bigger, badder predator. “However, I have a secret weapon.”
He arched a brow. “And what’s that?”
“Sure you want to know?” I asked, rubbing my knees along his hips.
“Yes. Tell me.” His tone had gone low, gruff.
My knees slid higher, higher still, and he went utterly motionless, waiting to see what I would do next. I had two options. Try to seduce him into making out with me—the way he’s looking at me...I might actually succeed this time—or prove I wasn’t out for the count.
Sometimes I hated my priorities.
I planted my feet against his shoulders and pushed with all my might. He propelled backward, catching himself on his knees.
“With you? Distraction,” I purred.
Laughing, he stayed where he was and lifted my leg to place a soft kiss on my ankle. “I must be seriously disturbed, because I like when you rough me up.”
Heat spilled into my cheeks. “You make me sound like some kind of he-woman.”