“Four.”

Forgive me, I thought before I slapped her.

Her eyes flew open, but I could tell right away she wasn’t herself.

“Gabby,” Isabelle said loudly.  “Check your sonar.”

Gabby turned her head and tried to focus on Isabelle.

“Check your sonar,” Isabelle repeated.

“Is Clay safe?” Gabby asked softly.

I sent a wave of love over our connection as I gently stroked the red mark on her cheek.

“You’re sitting on him.  He’ll be safer if you can tell us if there are any bad guys around.”

Gabby blinked again and looked at me.  She reached up and ran her fingers through my beard.

“So handsome,” she murmured, a tiny thread of desire drifting over our link.

“Focus, Gabby,” Isabelle shouted.  “Check your sonar.”

Gabby sighed, and her hand dropped tiredly to her lap.

“They’re netting again.  None are close.”  Her eyelids fluttered.

“Keep her awake, Clay,” Isabelle said, heading toward the stairs.

As soon as they reached the lower hallway, I tapped Gabby’s cheek again.  Her eyes opened, and she smiled at me.

“I was worried,” I said.

She reached up and brushed my hair back from my face.

“You are so handsome.”

The small, secret smile that curved her lips sent a ball of need right to my gut.

“I can feel that, Clay,” she said, lifting her head and offering her lips.

Normally there’d be nothing I’d want more than to kiss her; it was only my worry for her safety and the sounds of conversation downstairs that stopped me from happily giving her what she wanted.

“Gabby, you’re not safe here.”

“I’m safe with you.  Always with you,” she whispered, nestling closer to me.

Her hand brushed over the width of my chest, distracting me enough that I almost went for her lips.

“No.  I mean, yes.  You’re safe me.  But you’re not safe with this group,” I said softly, knowing full well anyone paying attention in the kitchen might hear me.

“Clay, I want your lips on mine.  Now.  I need to feel you.”

Hell.  Her hand roamed over my chest once more, and I knew I was lost.  When her head cleared, we’d talk more.

I claimed her lips, meaning to kiss her sweetly.  Her tongue didn’t agree with sweet intentions.  She kissed dirty, and I lost all thought.  The slide of her tongue against mine did that to me every time.  With my last shred of will power, I fisted the sheets with my claw tipped fingers.  She had no idea what she did to me; how much I adored her.

Her small hands threaded through my hair and held tight as she directed the kiss, pressing her mouth firmly against mine a moment before she pulled away.

“Not good enough, Clay,” she whispered against my lips.  “Don’t you want to touch me?”

Want to touch her?  No, I needed to touch her.  I burned for it.  But I hadn’t thought she would welcome it.  Not yet anyway.  I’d been wrong, though.  That or I’d died and gone to heaven.

When she moved, shifting position so she no longer lay cradled in my lap but straddled it, I gripped her waist.  She was my lifeline.  I claimed her mouth once more, possessing her lips and tongue.  She stayed on her knees for a moment, making a soft sound before slowly settling on my lap.

I groaned.  She moved her hands from my hair to my shoulders.  Holding me, she tilted her hips against mine.  The explosive pleasure that should have robbed me of thought instead set off warning alarms.  She moved against me again, and I tore my mouth from hers to look at her.

Her lips were wet and puffy, begging for more kisses.  Man, I wanted to kiss her again.  Lifting my gaze from her mouth, I saw her glazed vacant stare.

Sheeet.

“Gabby, baby.  I can’t.”

“No,” she said softly, rocking her hips against mine again.  “You can.  I can feel it.”

Ten seconds ago, I’d been in heaven, now I was certain I was in the seventh ring of hell.  Yes, the way she was arching into my lap guaranteed she’d feel just how much I wanted to touch her...and more.  But she wasn’t herself.

I dropped my head back against the metal bedframe, shaking and barely in control.  She pressed her advantage and kissed her way along my neck, tracing her tongue over the place where she had Claimed me.

“I love you, Clay.  Don’t you love me too?”

“Gabby...”  It wasn’t her name but a growl that came out.  I let go of her waist and curled my hands into fists.  Closing my eyes, I started listing off all the parts in a Ford Escort’s exhaust system.  There weren’t enough to distract me from the feel of her, though.  I cleared my throat to try speaking again.

She hummed as her lips skimmed over my adams apple.

“Gabby, baby, I need a drink.”  My words were desperate, and if she would have been paying attention to our connection, she would have known it was a lie.

“Okay,” she said sweetly.  She moved off my lap.  I wanted to sigh in relief as much as I wanted to cry at the loss.

I didn’t mentally kick myself long before I realized she hadn’t moved far.  In fact, her hands were busy tugging at the edge of my shirt.  The touch of her fingers on my stomach had me groaning again, and I couldn’t make myself move away.

“Gabby, I’m thirsty.  Remember?”

Her lips curved as she tugged my shirt higher and stared at my exposed stomach.

“I really like your muscles,” she said.

When she tried tugging the shirt higher, I didn’t resist her.

“Especially these,” she said, running her fingers over my chest.

I swallowed thickly and let my head drop against the headboard again.  The metal made a hollow sound.  Empty like my head.  If I were smart, I’d get off the bed and convince Gabby to walk somewhere with me.  Where?  We weren’t safe.  I needed to talk to her about—

Her tongue flicked over my right nipple, and I grunted at the needy sensation that gripped me.

When her mouth closed over it, I was off the bed and across the room before she could blink at me.  I shook with need.  I wanted her in my arms.  I wanted her biting my neck as I pushed my way—

Rubbing a hand over my face, I dropped that line of thinking.

“Clay?”  Gabby looked at the mattress, then both sides of the bed as if I might have fallen off.  When she didn’t spot me, she sat back on her heels and looked down at her hands with such sadness that I stepped forward.

“You’re not yourself, sweetheart.”

Her gaze found me but the sad frown didn’t clear.  Her gaze returned to her hands, and I knew that I’d hurt her by leaving. She had no idea what she was doing to me.  I wanted to make her happy, to give her what she wanted, but she’d hate me later for it.  However, seeing her unhappy now was just as bad.

Crossing the room, I stood beside the bed and opened my arms to her.  She looked up at me, uncertain and hesitating.  Distrust and unhappiness drifted over our link.  My chest ached for causing those emotions.  Leaning forward, I scooped her up in my arms and settled onto the bed once more.

I knew what I needed to do.  Suck it up and make out with my woman without going all the way.  There wouldn’t be a shower cold enough to help me when we finished.

“I swear I will do my best to give you a reason to be happy...today, tomorrow, and every day for the rest of our lives.”  I pressed a kiss to her temple, and she sighed, a thread of contentment touching my mind.

She snuggled into my chest, and her hands started roaming once more.

It would be a long night of heaven and hell.

*    *    *    *

Gabby leaned into me further, and I gripped the counter tightly, the only thing stopping me from taking her back upstairs and just finishing what we’d started over an hour ago.  If I allowed myself one touch, one tiny caress, tomorrow’s anger be damned, I’d have her tonight.

I’d thought begging to come downstairs for a drink would have cooled her off a little after she’d managed to get under my shirt and undo my pants.  She’d given into my begging and let me leave the bed without becoming upset again, but she’d touched me in some way the entire time.