Her ecstasy sent him into his own wildly explosive release. His magnificent body shuddered, and she felt his hot seed spill into her. It was the single greatest thing she’d ever experienced. He groaned in blissful agony before slumping against her.

“That was, uh… I’ve never…” she said, her body still thrumming with delicious quivers. She’d never had multiple orgasms before. Never felt more connected or in sync with another person. Her heart pounded with extreme contentment.

“Yeah,” he said, voice gravelly.

For several minutes, they didn’t move. She kissed his neck, tasted the saltiness of his skin. Slowly, he pulled out of her, took her in his arms, and carried her to the couch.

“You’re the sexiest, most desirable woman I’ve ever met, Tess.” He moved a stray hair from her face, slid a finger down her cleavage. “I love the way your parts fit together. How soft you are.”

Those words, that single touch down her chest, made her want him all over again.

She looked at him with big round eyes that made him wonder if any man had ever told her how special she was. How utterly unique and sexy and fuck-it-all worth dying for. Because the bone-deep possessiveness coursing through Hugh’s veins meant whether he liked it or not, Tess was his. And he protected what was his.

The kiss he’d given her, the one claiming her, wasn’t anything he’d planned. But she’d responded with such incredible wild abandon that he’d been helpless to stop it. The intensity had proven more powerful than he’d anticipated.

During the past week, he’d cracked her tough exterior, learned her quirks and looked forward to getting up in the morning just to see what new thing he’d discover about her. He’d tried to fight the feelings of admiration and attachment spreading inside him like a burning blaze and filling the spaces he’d sworn to keep vacant. But he couldn’t.

It didn’t matter that there was no happy ending in their future. What mattered to him was her future. Now that Trey was back, he would gladly give up his life for hers. Until then, he planned to enjoy her body to the fullest.

“Want to do this again?” she said, with a smile worthy of a Miss Congeniality award. As if she needed to convince him.

“Definitely.” He circled her nipple with his finger.

She pulled his hand away, laced her fingers with his. “Is it still raining?”

He looked toward the window. All she would see was black nothingness, the tinted window offering a muted peek in daylight, let alone night. “Still raining.”

“Darn.”

“Shame,” he added, turning his head to take in her beauty.

“You know you stare a lot?” she said, not at all displaying any modesty.

“I can’t help it. I can’t take my eyes off you.” He brought their locked hands down to her tattoo, extending his finger to touch it. “Tell me about this.”

She looked down and he sensed the artwork had special meaning because she lingered there for a long moment, as if remembering.

Instead of answering, she reached her other hand to touch his chest. “Tell me what yours means first.”

Fuck. The last thing he’d wanted to talk about was his brother, but he’d walked right into that. Idiot.

Keeping things from her was futile. Thinking this camaraderie between them would wane was useless. He felt her under his skin, smelled her in his sleep, tasted her when his mouth was dry. He didn’t want to need her. But the way she stared at his chest, the way her kiss ignited a passion in him he hadn’t known he possessed, wiped away his confusion. She planned to kill him. He’d love her until they found Dobson. Until she needed to follow through with her assignment. Because her life was more important than his.

Love her?

“So are you going to tell me or not?” Her satiated voice shook him from his thoughts.

“It’s the Zodiac sign for Cancer. In honor of Max.” Would she settle for the short answer?

Her hand tickled his flesh, her fingers delicately gliding over his heart. “You put it in a special place. Your brother must have meant a lot to you. You said he died from depression after losing his mate. How is that possible?”

Her voice dripped with concern, compassion. He’d never told a soul the depth of Max’s despair. The pack believed poison had taken his life, not heartache. Hugh thought it better to honor him that way.

“He actually died from a broken heart.”

She continued to comfort him with small, gentle traces from her fingers. The feel of her fingertips over his heart, over the one thing he had left of Max, prompted him to continue when she remained silent.

“Did you know the death of a loved one can kill you?”

“No,” she whispered.

“It’s called Broken Heart Syndrome. It produces a toxic overload of stress hormones that result in stress cardiomyopathy. My brother experienced the same symptoms as a heart attack. Shortness of breath, chest pain, fluid in his lungs. These all severely weakened his heart. He ignored the shifter half of his being and let the pain of losing Heather destroy his human half. He didn’t want to fight it. Wasn’t resilient enough. His grief stressed his heart to the point of melancholy and depression, and he chose to give up. He couldn’t bear to live without her.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

She dropped a kiss over the tattoo. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I know you’re hurt that he left you.” She turned her head and laid her ear on his chest. “Your heart tells me so.”

He did not want to talk about his heart. Or how speaking of Max had conjured up ideas that Tess was his mate. The intimacy between them at this moment choked him. Once again, he’d shared something with her he’d never shared with another soul.

Silence filled the space around them until she said, “What sign are you?”

It amazed him how she seemed to know just how far to push him on certain subjects. He was grateful he didn’t have to elaborate on the heartache his brother’s passing had caused. By having the tattoo over his heart, he’d hoped to protect himself from further pain there. The mere sight of Tess ruined that plan.

“Taurus. How about you?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” She lifted her head so it rested on the couch.

His body and mind relaxed at her game playing, but her nakedness distracted him enough that he couldn’t think of a damn Zodiac sign besides his and his brother’s. “How about we make it multiple choice?”

“Fine. Aries, Scorpio, Aquarius or Pisces. Take your pick.”

He traced a finger along her arm. Her tanned skin was silky smooth, flawless. Toned. There wasn’t an unseemly mark on her. There wasn’t a tan line on her either. Her golden skin offered beauty unmatched. It pushed his sexual drive into fourth gear.

“Sagittarius. Now tell me why you don’t have any tan lines.”

“Hugh! That wasn’t a choice.”

“Sorry.” Wow, he’d thought of a sign. “Your body is distracting me. And to be honest, I don’t really care. The tan lines—that I care about.”

She scooted up, bent her legs and brought them to a sideways angle atop the couch. Now he had a glimpse of her fine ass. This tactic of hers, naked on the couch in a provocative pose, might kill him without too much hard work on her part.

“I don’t have any tan lines because I sunbathe in the nude.”

I’m a goner. One rung on the death sentence down, not many more he could take. His expression must have tipped her off to his utterly confusing enchantment with her because she continued. A good thing since he needed to pry his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“In my backyard. Alone. Although occasionally Kensie or Francesca might join me. I love the sun, love to be outdoors.”

He’d love to see her in the sun, outdoors, sunbathing. “Now tell me about your tattoo.” He couldn’t see it with the way she sat, but remembered it distinctly. It was a Kanji tattoo but he didn’t know what it meant.