Chapter 24 24. Getting Warm
Tabitha’s POV
I peel my wet shirt off slowly, trying not to wince at how it clings to my skin. The fabric is heavy with rain. It’s chilly and sticky against my back that I’m positive I’ll be catching a cold first thing in the morning. I have to tug hard to get it over my head, and by the time it’s off, my hair is plastered to my neck and shoulders. My white bra is also on full display. I throw a conscious look at Luca whose eyes never left me since he handed me his jacket.
“Turn around,” I say sharply.
Luca doesn’t budge. His head tips slightly, like he heard me but isn’t sure I deserve to be listened to. His eyes stay right where they are—on me.
“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “I thought you enjoyed having an audience.”
My cheeks flare with heat. I throw the wet shirt at him without thinking. It hits his chest and slides down to the floor with a heavy slap. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Asshole.”
He smirks as he finally turns his back. Like I didn’t just half-strip in front of him. Like he’s seen this all before and it means nothing.
I unclasp my bra, grimacing at how cold the air feels against my skin. My hands move fast now, too annoyed to care about modesty. I grab his jacket from the floor and slide into it. It’s warm on the inside and also decently padded. The forest green fabric is enough to cover me fully even without anything underneath. But it’s not enough to keep me from shivering.
My pants are still drenched and probably my underwear too! Water seeps down to places I really don’t want to think about, and the chill bites deep. Still, I keep my mouth shut. I’m not about to admit weakness in front of him.
“Okay, I’m decent. You can turn back around,” I mutter.
He pivots around and his eyes land on the jacket, then on me.
“You’re shaking,” he noted, folding his arms across his chest. “I forgot how weak humans can be.”
I roll my eyes as my lips tremble from the cold. “Okay, Mr. Werewolf. You’re not the one who dove headfirst into the rain five minutes ago.”
He looks past me, toward the half-broken door. The storm is still going strong. Rain pounds the roof in harsh rhythm, and thunder rolls faint in the distance.
“It doesn’t look like this rain is going to stop any time soon,” he says.
“Great,” I mutter, hugging the jacket tighter around me. “We’re stuck here.”
Luca watches me as I rub my palms together and blow my warm breath on them. This narrow shed is doing nothing to block the wind outside. The only good thing is, at least it keeps the rain off us. Well, not that I have anything else left to soak.
“Damn, it’s painful to watch you,” Luca comments. He looks bored as he stares at my pitiful methods to stay warm.
“Then, don’t watch,” I hiss. I pull the helm of the jacket and extend it down to cover my legs.
“I’m just saying, if you’re cold, I can help.” He says. A glint of playfulness flickers in his eyes. “That jacket doesn’t seem to do the trick. But if you want, I can give you something warmer.”
There’s something about his voice that makes my skin tingle, almost as if he’s challenging me without laying a finger. His tone is the kind that sneaks under your skin and lingers there like heat. I look up sharply, but he’s not leering. He just watches me with that same calm, unreadable expression, like he's waiting to see how far I’ll squirm.
“I’m fine,” I say, though my voice comes out thinner than I want.
He takes a step closer and the space between us suddenly feels too small.
“You don’t look fine,” he says. “Your lips are shaking.”
“They’re not.”
“They are.” He scoots closer with the kind of quiet certainty that makes it hard to breathe. His hand lifts, fingers brushing the corner of my mouth before trailing along my lower lip. The heat of his skin sinks into mine. My breath stutters and my pulse betrays me. “Still think you’re not cold?”
I should say yes. I should pull away. But the words won’t come. Not when his thumb rests against my lip like it belongs there. Not when every inch of me is tuned to the shape of his hand.
“I don’t need anything from you,” I murmur. The lie tastes thin. My body gives me away anyway—shaky breath and every nerve on edge.
Luca studies me, the corner of his lips curving into a barely-visible smirk. “You sure about that?” His arms wrap around me without warning. The warmth from his thick arms seeps through the jacket and straight into my chest. I stiffen, not used to the weight of someone else’s body against mine, but I don’t push him away. His chin lowers until his lips are just beside my ear.
“Luca…” I mean for it to be a warning, but it comes out soft, almost like a moan. Damn it.
“Stop being stubborn,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my neck. “I can keep you warm.”
I hate the way my skin responds to the sound of his voice. One of his hands runs down the length of my back, slow enough for me to feel every inch of it. The other hand slips under the jacket and finds bare skin at my waist. Shit. Tingles of electrifying sensation crawls up from my belly and spreads throughout my whole body. His calloused palm strokes my narrow waist, returning the much-needed heat back into my skin.
“This isn’t necessary,” I mutter, though my voice is thin and embarrassingly shaky. It’s like I don’t even believe my own words.
I bite back a whimper as his fingers skim higher, barely a few inches away from my breasts. “Relax,” he says under his breath. “You’re not shaking anymore, are you?”
I want to deny it, but my body betrays me. I’m not cold anymore. My skin is flushed. My heart pounds too fast and too loud inside my chest. He’s right. I’m warm…burning, even.
“You’re such a smug bastard,” I whisper, but it lacks the bite that I intended. I just find myself slowly melting into his arms. Shit.
Luca chuckles and the sound is unreasonably sexy in my ear, especially with his lips brushing against my jaw. “I’m not wrong though,” he drawls. “You feel it too.”
His hand drifts lower again, brushing the curve of my waist, and then slowly sliding beneath the waistband of my soaked shorts. A mewl escapes my lips before I can stop it. He stops at my inner thigh. His fingers rest there like he owns that space.
I should shove him off. I should be furious. But I just stand there, letting him touch me like this while the sound of rain beats down on the roof above us.
“You’re heating up faster than I expected.” He sounds too pleased with himself, like he’s savoring every second of this.
My cheeks burn hotter. My thighs press together on instinct, but it’s no use. His hand is already there. I swallow hard, fighting to find words, any words, but my mind is blank. All sanity seems to have completely abandoned me while his fingers tease the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, close enough to make my whole body tighten with anticipation. His touch is maddening, like he knows exactly how far he can push me before I break.
He leans in again, and this time, his lips find my ear. He bites it, gentle but sharp enough to make my legs tense all over again. A soft moan escapes me and I want to mentally slap myself for letting him hear how much I want this.
“You’re shaking again,” he whispers against my skin. “But I bet it’s got nothing to do with the cold anymore.”