Chapter 318: Seduction

Chapter 318: Seduction
"That's nice," Lysandra replied.

But Jake wasn't taking the hint. He ordered champagne—Dom Pérignon, naturally—and positioned himself in her personal space.

"Your perfume is intoxicating." His voice dropped to what he probably thought was a seductive whisper.

Every muscle in my body coiled with violent tension. My fingers tightened around the whiskey glass until I heard the crystal groan under the pressure.

"Thank you." Lysandra's response was automatic politeness, but her eyes flickered toward me.

She's looking at me. Why is she looking at me?

That single glance sent electricity racing through my veins. She wasn't just tolerating this asshole's attention—she was seeking mine.

Jake noticed her divided attention. He followed her gaze to where I sat in the shadows, and his face shifted into smug dismissal.

"Don't mind the brooding stranger over there." He waved in my direction like I was an unwelcome prop. "Tonight is about us."

His hand rose toward her waist.

"I don't think—" Lysandra started.

But her protest lacked conviction. Her voice carried that breathy quality that could be interpreted as reluctance or invitation, depending on the listener's delusions.

Jake heard invitation.

His fingers grazed her hip through the silk dress, and something inside me snapped.

The rational part of my mind screamed warnings about public scenes and property damage. The rest of me didn't give a damn.

I was moving before conscious thought kicked in, crossing the space between us with lethal purpose.

Jake's hand was reaching for Lysandra's face when I grabbed his wrist and yanked him away from her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." My voice came out as a low growl that made nearby conversations pause.

Jake stumbled backward, shock replacing his confident smirk. "What the hell, man?"

"Don't touch her! She's mine!"

The declaration hung in the air like a physical presence. Every head in the bar turned toward us, conversations dying into stunned silence.

Jake's face cycled through confusion, anger, and finally self-preservation as he took in my expression. Whatever he saw there convinced him to cut his losses.

"Crazy bastard," he muttered, backing toward the exit.

"Sir, you cannot—" the bartender began.

"It's alright." Lysandra's voice cut through the tension like warm honey. She moved to my side, close enough that her scent enveloped me. "He's my... friend."

The pause before 'friend' carried weight. The bartender looked between us, clearly wanting to avoid further confrontation, and decided discretion was the better part of valor.

Lysandra stepped closer, tilting her head back to meet my eyes.

"Thank you for rescuing me." Her voice trembled slightly, as if Jake's attention had genuinely frightened her. "Again."

I looked away, fighting the urge to pull her closer. "Don't read anything into it. I just don't like watching assholes hassle women."

Her hand rose to touch my cheek, fingers cool against my overheated skin. "You always protect me."

The simple statement hit like a physical blow. Something deep in my chest recognized the truth of it, even as my mind remained blank.

Always. Why does that feel so right?

"Maybe..." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "We could go upstairs? Talk somewhere more private?"

Every rational instinct I possessed screamed danger. This woman was a complication I couldn't afford. A puzzle with missing pieces that might destroy me when completed.

But her green eyes held promise and mystery in equal measure. Her lips were slightly parted, inviting. The silk dress she wore caught the light in ways that made my mouth dry.

My wolf roared approval, drowning out rational thought.

Yes! Go with her! Claim what's yours!

"Alright." The word escaped before I could stop it. "Let's talk."

We went back to my room. The twins were asleep at Lysandra's room with Kieran looking after them.

"Want something to drink?" She moved toward the mini bar.

"I think I've had enough." I remained by the door, my hand still gripping the handle.

She turned to face me, one eyebrow arched. "Then we'll just talk."

She walked toward me slowly. The silk dress caught the lamplight, shifting from deep blue to midnight black with her movements.

When she stopped directly in front of me, I could count her individual eyelashes. Could map every freckle across her nose. Could taste her breath in the space between us.

Her hand rose to my collar, fingers toying with the fabric. "You looked very handsome protecting me tonight."

My throat went dry. "I told you, don't read anything into it."

"Mmm." She stepped closer, close enough that her body almost pressed against mine. "Maybe I like reading things."

Her fingertips traced the edge of my shirt, following the line of my collarbone. Such a simple touch, yet it set my nerve endings on fire.

"Lysandra."

"Yes?" She tilted her head, studying my face.

I opened my mouth to tell her to stop. To remind her we were nothing to each other. That whatever we'd had before was gone, buried under layers of damaged memory.

Instead, I said nothing.

She interpreted my silence as permission. Her hand flattened against my chest, right over my heart. I wondered if she could feel how fast it was beating.

"Your body remembers me," she whispered. "Even if your mind doesn't."

Her other hand joined the first, both palms warm through the thin fabric of my shirt. She stood on her tiptoes, bringing her lips level with my ear.

"I want you." The words were barely audible, her breath hot against my skin.

Something inside me snapped.

I grabbed her waist and pulled her against me, crushing my mouth to hers.

She responded immediately. Her arms wound around my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. She pulled me closer, deeper, as if she could somehow absorb me entirely.

The taste of her was intoxicating.

I backed her toward the living area, my hands mapping the contours of her body through silk. She felt perfect under my palms—familiar in ways that defied explanation.

When the back of my legs hit the couch, she pushed against my chest. The unexpected force sent me stumbling backward. I landed on the cushions with a soft thud, looking up at her in surprise.

Before I could react, she stepped forward and straddled my lap. The silk dress bunched around her thighs as she settled over me, her knees pressing into the leather on either side of my hips.

The position put her in complete control. I had to tilt my head back to meet her eyes, feeling both vulnerable and aroused by her dominance.

"Do you remember this?" Her fingers found the thin straps of her dress, working at the delicate clasps there.

I couldn't form words. Could barely form coherent thoughts. All I could do was watch as she slowly, deliberately began to undress.

The silk slipped from her shoulders like water, pooling around her waist.

"Jesus," I breathed.

Her smile was pure temptation. She reached behind herself, finding the dress's hidden zipper. The sound it made as she pulled it down was the loudest thing in the room.

More fabric fell away. More skin was revealed. I was drowning in the sight of her, my rational mind shutting down completely.