11. Nick
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NICK
Georgie’s text swims in my head as I pull on a sweater and jeans. As I get into my car and drive to Claws Out.
Georgie: Your woman is with me at Claws Out, looking sexy as hell. Do something about it before someone else does.
I don’t appreciate the blatant manipulation, but I’m pulling into the parking lot less than twenty minutes later, so I can’t say it didn’t work.
The mere thought of anyone else’s hands on Izzy makes me want to rip my claws into the closest living thing. I want to give her time and space—to truly win her affection through action. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to allow anyone to saddle up to her in the meantime.
I pull open the double doors, shoes sticking slightly to the floor just like they always do as my eyes search the slight crowd that’s formed.
The band is mid-song, crooning some alternative pop thing I’ve never heard when I finally see her. Izzy. She’s dancing with Georgie, eyes closed and arms up, pure serenity on her face.
I use the opportunity to rake my gaze over her entire body.
Skin-tight shirt and skirt, tights I want to rip holes in, and boots that highlight the bite-able thickness of her thighs.
She’s more than ‘sexy as hell’ as Georgie put it.
Isabella Gregory is a goddamn feast, and I want to sink my teeth in.
I’m content to watch, to be her silent protector as she enjoys herself. I might even find the time to enjoy a beer. Reminisce over my high school days when a rowdier, younger version of myself tried to sneak into this very bar.
The old owner threatened to beat my ass, along with my best friend, Dane.
I enjoy losing myself in old memories. That is, until some out-of-towner puts his hands on her waist, ignoring the way she pushes him away. Every thought flies out of my head until all I hear is ‘mine, mine, mine’.
Mine.
I’m across the room in a flash, putting my hand on his shoulder and using my full strength to yank him back. Hard.
“Nick?” Izzy’s voice sounds like it’s coming at me from underwater. I hear it, but it’s soft. Muted.
My only focus is this fucker who thought he could touch her.
Mine.
“What the fuck, man?” he has the audacity to say.
I growl, my instincts barely held at bay. Any false bravado melts away as he backs up a few steps, then full sprints to the door and outside.
Good.
Someone worthy of Izzy’s affection would stand and fight for her. She’s worth all of that and more. She is a goddess.
“That was better than I thought it’d be,” Georgie giggles, snapping me out of my trance.
Shit. I scrub my hand over my face in embarrassment. My reaction was that of my most base instincts, but Goddess knows Izzy doesn’t need that kind of machismo.
I turn to her expecting anger, indignation—annoyance at the very least—and open my mouth to apologize, until I catch the dilation of her pupils. The shortness of her breath, breasts heaving under her top. How her scent ripens, sweetening further as we stare at each other.
I take a cautious step forward instead, getting into her space until her neck tilts far enough back that I can see the elegant lines. Does she realize what that means? What baring your neck to your mate truly means?
“You okay?” I rumble.
Her lashes flutter as I watch her. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, totally okay.”
With a slowness I’m barely able to stand, I lift my hand and push a wayward lock of brown hair behind her ear. “Good.”
She leans into the contact, beautiful green eyes shutting for a beat too long to be anything other than in pleasure. When they open, they’re hazy with a desire that alights every nerve in my body.
“May I have this dance?” My hand travels down her arm until I grasp hers. Usually, I stay far away from the dance floor, but for Izzy, I’d happily embarrass myself.
She nods, as if not trusting her own voice.
I just barely hear Georgie giggling in the distance. Despite her meddling, I can’t bring myself to focus on anything other than Izzy.
I slide my hand around her waist, settling it at the small of her back. The other finds her hip, caresses the shallow dip there like a man possessed. Maybe I am.
In turn, she wraps her arms around my neck, rising on her tiptoes.
I have no idea what song the band is playing. Is it fast? Slow? It doesn’t make a difference. I hold Izzy close to me, feel the warmth of her body, and sway to the beat of her heart.
“You look beautiful,” I murmur into her hair.
Her fingers flex against the back of my neck. “Thank you.”
It’s easier to breathe, easier to think, now that she’s in my arms. Easier to control myself from letting my wolf get the better of me. Easier not to scare her.
I can simply dance with her. I don’t have to drag her to my house and devour her like an animal with its prey.
Not tonight anyway.
And we stay like that. Quiet, calm, enjoying the closeness. Minutes pass…maybe hours? The world could be falling down around us, and I’d have no idea. Nothing exists outside the sweet hands rubbing little patterns into my neck and shoulders.
She presses a yawn into my chest, trying to hide it.
I smile to myself. Maybe she doesn’t want the night to end, either. “May I walk you home?”
I’ll happily walk her home and then walk back to get my car if it means I can spend a few more minutes walking with her versus driving.
She nods on a wistful sigh, green eyes lifting to mine. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Georgie is nowhere to be seen at first glance, but if she left, it’s only because she trusts me to keep Izzy safe. I still do another visual sweep for her anyway, just in case.
“Oh.” Izzy pulls out her phone as we make our way to the exit. “Georgie texted me and said she was taking the booze to go and headed home.”
I nod. “That’s on brand. I worry about her sometimes.”
The cold autumn air hits like we’ve walked smack dab into a solid wall. I shuck my jacket and wrap it around Izzy’s shoulders as we head to the sidewalk.
My hand creeps toward hers, pinky finger brushing hers in a gentle question.