How could a man resist his woman’s voice when she pitched it low like that? When she lay unashamed, naked and vulnerable to him? He just knew he wasn’t that man. “My leopard is very content, the way he always is when we’re close to you. I could fall asleep, just as I did on the couch last night, with no worry about bars on the windows or across the door. I think it was the first real sleep I’ve had in a few years.”
“I’m glad then. That I was the one to give that to you.”
“He knows he has his mate close and he’s patient. He says she’s close, but not quite ready for him. He likes to stay near you.” He wrapped her hair around his finger because the temptation to touch her was too strong. “I know you want to run from me, Ashe, and frankly, I don’t blame you.”
“It isn’t that I want to run, so much as I know this situation isn’t good. You know it isn’t, Timur, and I have to look out for myself. Being with you would be like jumping on a fast-moving train with no way off.”
He couldn’t prevent the wince. She’d scored with that observation. Once on his train, she was right, there was no getting off. She couldn’t know the reasons, not yet, or the extent of just how bad it really was. Still, how could he let her go? His leopard would be completely uncontrollable. He stayed silent, because there wasn’t much he could say to that.
He could plead his case, and hope she would listen, but in the end, what was he going to do? Let her run? Leave his brother at the worst possible time? He probably wouldn’t survive the coming war and he wouldn’t want to. Not without Ashe.
Where the hell had that come from? He couldn’t survive without her? He’d just laid eyes on her. He knew it didn’t matter. She was his one. His only. She was the woman who calmed his leopard and offered him a place of comfort. Of peace. He’d caught a glimpse of paradise. What man would let that go when he’d never had a fucking decent thing in his life?
“Don’t run, Ashe. I’d find you. Wherever you went, I’d find you.”
“Don’t try to scare me, Timur. I don’t take threats very well.”
“Then don’t fuckin’ consider it a threat. Consider it a fact of life.” He sat up and shoved at the hair falling on his forehead. He thought idly that he needed a haircut, but he liked the way her fingers smoothed it back.
“You would truly be hell to live with,” she snapped, sitting up as well.
She looked around for her clothes and then slid off the bed to go to a drawer. She pulled a T-shirt from it and dragged it over her curves. Hiding her body from him. Taking that away. Still, he couldn’t help but feel as if he deserved it. He watched her stalk to the bathroom, tension in every line of her body. Perversely, that just made him want her all over again.
He put his feet flat on the floor and snagged his phone out of his trousers where he’d left it. “Fyodor,” he said as soon as his brother answered. “Am I a psychopath?”
“Yes,” Fyodor answered without hesitation. “So am I.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?”
“I looked it up a while back,” Fyodor explained. “Said we exhibit abnormal or violent social behavior. I think that fits us.”
Timur put his head down and drew in deep breaths. He couldn’t say he didn’t exhibit violent behavior—not with the crimes he’d committed.
“The definition also included the description aggressive and/or unstable,” Fyodor went on helpfully.
“What the hell did you offer Evangeline to stay?” he demanded. “Tell me one decent thing you give her, and don’t include sex in that, Fyodor, because we both know that’s all about you, not her.”
“Is it all about you when you have sex with Ashe?” his brother countered.
What was he supposed to say to that? Hell, when he was in her, he couldn’t even think straight. Someone could walk in and put a bullet in his head and he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d have to be dead first. Was that all about him? Was it? He hoped he wasn’t that selfish. He knew he wasn’t. It was important to him to give her as many orgasms as possible. More, he wanted her to feel cared for every time he touched her. Sex wasn’t all about him. With Ashe, it never would be.
“What about your leopard?” Fyodor asked.
“He’s crazy about her. Her leopard is taking her sweet time to rise, but she’s close.” Was this relationship about his leopard? He knew better. He couldn’t keep his eyes or his hands off the woman, and her leopard wasn’t even trying to seduce his. In fact, at times she was eerily quiet.