Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 135321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
He shouldn’t have been thinking about caging her against the wall, stripping her naked, and fucking her into changing her mind.
Tate silently cursed, knowing he had no one to blame but himself. He’d never felt such elemental, explosive chemistry with another female—it had sparked to life the moment he laid eyes on Havana. He’d known all the way down to his gut that it would be a bad idea to touch her; that she wouldn’t be easy to walk away from. But he’d taken the risk because he’d wanted her so fucking badly.
He’d thought a few weeks in her bed would be enough to work off the insanely carnal need she roused in him. Four months later, he was still fucking ravenous for her. But then, what red-blooded male wouldn’t be?
There was something very … arresting about Havana. It was in the way she held herself with such regal grace. She always looked fearless. In command. Comfortable in her own skin. Haughty in a way that would challenge any male to try to win her attention.
More, she shimmered with a feminine alpha energy that seemed to light her up from within. It glittered in those exotic, almond bluish-gray eyes that were framed with thick dark lashes. Persian eyes, he thought.
Long and feathered, her hair fell in sleek maple brown ripples down her back. He loved to run his hands through it, especially when eating at that fantasy mouth. Loved to stroke and lick all her soft golden-brown skin and explore her wicked curves. And, fuck, those smooth toned legs felt insanely good wrapped around him. All of her felt good. Felt right.
And now she was telling him he no longer had the right to touch her, taste her, be inside her.
Tate felt his nostrils flare. This whole thing had come out of left-field, and he didn’t know what to make of it.
She’d said that none of his pride mates had expressed any disapproval over her involvement with him, but Havana wasn’t the type to name and shame. There were a few ambitious females in his pride who were gunning to be Alpha female. They tried flirting with him on occasion, and they weren’t pleased by his disinterest. One or more of them could have felt threatened by Havana and decided to act on it.
Not that trying to scare her off would have worked—his little devil wasn’t easily intimidated. But if they’d made several comments, she might have gotten tired of dealing with it, might have felt that an emotionless fling wasn’t worth the hassle. Unlike those other females, she had no aspirations to rule alongside him—he would have sensed it if she had. He was used to having people around who wanted something from him.
Tate had always known he’d one day take over the pride. He hadn’t wanted to be given the position by his father, though. He’d wanted to earn it. So he’d worked his way up from enforcer to Beta, mastering every skill necessary to lead. Because it had been common knowledge among the pride that he’d one day rule, people had been trying to climb up his ass for years.
Women often strove to please him, telling him what they thought he wanted to hear, reluctant to disappoint him. Not because they gave much of a shit about him, but because they wanted the prize at the end of the tunnel—to become Alpha female.
Havana, however, didn’t want anything from him. She didn’t even seem particularly impressed by his role. She didn’t take his crap, give him his own way all the time, or relentlessly try to impress him. Hell, she didn’t even address him like he was an Alpha. When they were together, he was just Tate to her. She didn’t see his status, she saw him.
There were few people Tate felt able to lower his guard around. Havana was one of them. She made him feel at ease. Calm. Unjudged. It enabled him to switch off and relax.
She also didn’t try pushing his boundaries. She just let the situation be. Let him be. She made an effort to get to know him, but she never asked anything too personal. She didn’t sulk if he dodged a particular question—she just gave him a haughty eye roll that was all alpha and never failed to make his dick twitch.
She wasn’t afraid to challenge him, especially not in the bedroom. She put up a resistance and made him work for the right to take control. So there was a lot of biting and scratching, though they were both careful not to draw blood or leave permanent marks. He’d never admit out loud that he’d almost branded her once. Well, twice. Maybe even several times.
To put it simply, Havana Ramos was his equal. She accepted and understood him in a way that only another natural-born alpha could. And he liked her a fuck of a lot. So he really wasn’t down with her plan for them to each go their own goddamn way.