“Come on now.”
Those three words were her only warning before he moved. With one tug, she was propelled forward and over his shoulder.
“Ooof,” Lucy grunted, the air she’d previously had in her lungs leaving the moment her stomach made contact with his shoulder.
“Easiest way to get you out without banging you up any further,” he said, his hands clutching her thighs to hold her securely. “I’ll get you set down in just a moment.”
“If you want to set her down over there, I can check the ankle while you attend the rest of the volunteers.”
With the blood rushing to her head the longer she was over her mystery man’s shoulder, Lucy was prepared to protest when the body she was wrapped around grunted. In her position, she couldn’t see who the man holding her was talking to, just his legs. Whoever it was that was talking was big, but not as big as the giant carting her around as if she weighed nothing.
“I have a few questions for her myself,” he said with a pat to the back of her thighs, which she felt despite the heavy suit she wore. “Prepare the others for the trek to the city, while I wait to see if I’ll need to carry this one or not.”
“Excuse me,” she interrupted, unable to ignore the throbbing in her temples from being upside down for too long. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful and all, but can you flip me over now? I feel like my head is about to pop.”
He stopped walking and squeezed her thighs again.
“I’m going to lower you down the front of me,” he told her, even as he slid her off his shoulder slowly.
Lucy, trying to help in any way she could, wrapped her arms around his neck once they were face to face—err—face to helmet.
“Hi,” she breathed, her stomach tightening at the raw attraction that swept through her core in response to the look he gave her. With her feet dangling in the air, Lucy studied a face that was so handsome it was a little bit pretty.
With thick, dark hair and chiseled features, he cocked his brow and stared right back at her. Even his eyebrows looked perfect. It didn’t stop there either. Cheekbones to die for graced his too-pretty face, only enhanced by a thick beard that her fingers itched to stroke. He looked like he’d walked right off the cover of one of her favorite shifter novels. In fact, the more she stared, the more she began to see a resemblance between him and the werewolf she’d had a crush on from True Blood.
“Hello,” he said gruffly. The moisture from his breath fogged up the glass in front of her face and brought her attention to a set of full lips that tempted her way too much.
Dear fucking Lord.
“Hi,” Lucy chirped again. Her brain had turned to mush at the sound of his voice.
She was literally tongue-tied, unable to form complete sentences due to being held in the arms of the hottest male she’d ever had the pleasure of seeing with her own two eyeballs. Not that she had a chance to scope out men, other than the occasional girl’s night out with Rue. And that was generally done from a quiet table in the corner, not plastered up against the poor man while she panted in his face and squirmed all over him like a horny teenager.
Considering the lead he was rocking in his pants, he may not be against getting better acquainted.
Just as she was about to introduce herself and practice not falling all over herself, he began to lower her to the ground. Frowning at the missed opportunity, Lucy kept her hands firmly planted on the man holding her else he’d disappear in a puff of smoke—much like the chance she’d just let slip through her fingers.
Chapter Eleven
Sparx forced himself to stoop down with her hanging around his neck until she was able to stand on her good foot. He hadn’t really had a chance to get a good look at her, every inch of her body covered in the thick Phaeton suit they supplied to the volunteers, but what he’d been able to feel had been more than pleasant under his hands.
Rounded thighs, a cushioned ass, and curvy hips were unable to be hidden the way the suit hugged the slopes and valleys that made up the delectable package in front of him. It had only taken one touch of her hand, and he’d felt the need to hold on tight. To carry her and care for her. To feed her and then to fuck her into unconsciousness. He wanted to sate all the hungers her body had before tucking her away and keeping her safe.
Forever.
It had been startling how quickly the need had swept over his body, and yet he’d still not yet had the pleasure of touching her bare skin, only the thick protected fabric keeping her warm.
The longer he had her in his arms, the harder it seemed to let her go. Normally, he would have taken Colby up on his offer to see to the injured human. Colby had more training as a healer than he did, and as the warlord, Sparx should have seen to the larger group of volunteers. Not focus on one specific one.
But the idea of the other male helping her had rankled him. He didn’t want Colby or another touching her. He didn’t even want the other man looking at her or speaking to her. Sparx wanted to be the only one the female in his hold relied upon.
He wasn’t sure why the impulse was riding him hard. He just knew that it made him uncomfortable and he didn’t like it.
At all.
It made him feel…not like himself. Restless. Itchy. Like his skin
