Chapter Six
JESSE
Against his expectations, Jesse had slept soundly, once he’d jammed a chair under the door handle and checked that the window latch was secure. The alarm on his phone had brought him out of a deep sleep, mid-dream, though it dissolved when he tried to grasp it on waking.
He’d have liked another shower while he had access to plentiful hot water but didn’t dare risk it in case anyone heard. Instead, he pulled on his clothes, checked he had his phone and wallet, then opened the bedroom door just enough to put his ear to the crack and listen.
Nothing. No one was stirring. So long as there was light in the sky, he had no worries about his ability to evade any wolf out there, no matter what Urban had said. He’d be on his way to another state before Urban had even woken.
Thinking of Urban made him pause for an instant—regret, weirdly, at the thought of never seeing him again. That made absolutely no sense, and it sure as hell didn’t change his plans. He needed to get out of here and back out on his own, where no one could trap him.
He’d almost made it to the kitchen when that commanding voice made him spin around, heart almost bursting out of his chest. Even in the half-light, there was no mistaking Urban’s figure. Goddamn alpha was leaning against a doorframe, arms folded, just looking at him.
Fuck.
Jesse stared at him, heart hammering, gaze flicking to the front door, then toward the mudroom. Which was faster? Which had fewer bolts? Before he’d decided which way to run, Urban was walking down the corridor toward him. Not walking—that goddamn bastard was strolling. Like he owned the place.
Which, actually, he did, now Jesse thought about it.
“Just checking my clothes are dried,” Jesse said, and it might have been convincing if only he hadn’t licked his lips.
“Thought as much,” the bastard said.
“I’ll grab them and get out of your way,” he said, turning toward the mudroom before Urban could say otherwise.
Urban barely made a sound, yet somehow Jesse could feel his presence behind him. Following, with no need to chase.
After one of the longest walks of his life, Jesse finally reached the mudroom, and yanked the dryer door open with more force than necessary. He did not want Urban looming over his shoulder, inspecting his stuff.
But Urban was simply waiting outside the door. Not blocking the doorway so Jesse couldn’t escape, but close enough that Jesse would need to pass him in order to leave. He’d be well within grabbing distance.
Jesse finished stuffing his clothes into his duffel, slung it on his shoulder, and forced himself to walk past Urban, like his closeness was no big deal. He could feel those damn eyes tracking every movement.
He stopped in the kitchen, and before he could figure out what happened next, the light flickered on. Jesse blinked in the sudden brightness. And then he blinked again.
Oh, hell. Urban was half-naked. Sleep pants were slung low on his hips, showing off acres of golden skin as he leaned against the counter like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Jesse forgot what he was doing, or planning, or thinking.
He did the only logical thing in the circumstances.
He focused on that body and filed away every sinful detail—the smooth stretch of skin over sculpted muscle, the lazy strength in his torso, the dusting of hair, just enough to make Jesse itch to drag his fingers through it and find out if it felt as good as it looked.
Urban wasn’t just built, like some guy who lived in the gym.
His body had been shaped by years of hard work.
Jesse’s pulse kicked up. He wanted to put his hands on him.
Feel all that power under his palms. Taste him. Fuck.
When he finally wrenched his gaze from Urban’s body, his breath was stolen all over again. Because the way Urban was looking at him… His eyes were dark on Jesse’s. As if—God. As if Jesse wasn’t the only one affected.
Urban turned away and started fiddling with a machine on the counter. Hell, the man didn’t play fair—his ass was no less distracting, with the soft, stretchy material of his sleep pants hiding precisely nothing.
“Coffee?” Urban asked, his voice hoarser than usual.
“Uh, yeah.” Like he was able to think of anything except the breadth of Urban’s shoulders, the muscles in his back shifting as he reached down a couple of mugs from the cupboard, and the smooth swell of his ass.
He knew he needed to get out of this place. Instead, he heard himself say, “Y’know, you could always try bribing me to stick around, instead of just bossin’ me.”
What the hell? Flirting with the alpha who’d locked him up—what the fuck was he thinking?
Urban swung around, his expression changing when he caught Jesse’s gaze still glued to his body. His muscles tightened as he turned away again without a word.
Looked like Jesse wasn’t going to get fucked after all. Which was definitely a good thing. Definitely.
A moment later, Urban handed him a coffee, and Jesse’s focus switched to Urban’s hands. He’d noticed them last night, those fingers that looked so strong and capable.
Their fingers brushed as Jesse took the mug, and it was like lightning running along his nerves. Burning him up until he could hardly breathe with the heat surging through him. Urban had barely touched him, but everything inside Jesse wanted to get closer, to keep feeling this, whatever it was.
God, he wanted Urban’s hands on him. Everywhere. Right the hell now. Except for all the reasons why he didn’t. Fuck his life, he’d gone and gotten himself a kink for getting kidnapped.
Urban yanked his hand back and turned on his heel, fast enough to give himself whiplash. Like he was afraid of what might happen if he didn’t.
“Drink your coffee,” he said, his voice low and strained.
Jesse blinked, thrown by the sudden coldness in Urban’s tone. It wasn’t angry, exactly. More like tightly leashed. Like something was slipping and he was desperate to shove it back into place.
He definitely wasn’t the only one feeling this thing between them, attraction so strong it felt alive, sparking under his skin, making it hard to breathe. For a dangerous second, he let himself imagine it—Urban above him, holding him down, skin to skin, mouth to mouth.
Panic slammed into him, hot and dizzying. Fantasies were one thing. This was real. Too real. He needed to keep his head, not start spinning out over an alpha who was keeping him here against his will.
He was a mess, fear and want tangled so tight he couldn’t tell one from the other. And it was only just dawn. He didn’t know how he was going to survive the day.
Not that he needed to survive a whole day. Just long enough for Urban’s attention to waver, so he could run.