This was a bad fucking idea, yet here I was, the dumbass who’d brought Layla—my ward—to my damn house.

I stood back and watched as she looked around the sparse decor in the living room. This was just a place I rented, a house I slept in. This wasn’t my home, wasn’t a place I felt particularly comfortable at either. It was just a place.

But having Layla in here made it feel so much warmer. It made it feel so much … more.

“I should say this out loud.” I waited until she looked at me. “Having you here isn’t the best idea I’ve had.”

She smiled, and it lit up my entire fucking place. “Noted, but I didn’t want to go back home, and I didn’t want to stay at that party.”

Yeah, I didn’t want her at that fucking party either. She moved over and sat on the couch, still looking around.

“This place is pretty barren of … anything.”

I grunted in response and walked over to the breakfast counter to start unarming myself. I disconnected my earpiece, the knife I kept at my waist, the other one I kept at my ankle, and took off my gun from the holster at my side. I pulled the clip out and set both pieces on the counter. When I turned around, I saw Layla watching me.

“You wear that stuff every day?” She didn’t sound afraid at the notion I was strapped with weapons when around her. I was glad, because they were to keep her safe.

I nodded and moved over to where she was, but didn’t sit down. Instead I leaned against the wall, crossed my arms, and looked at her. I didn’t know why she’d wanted to come back to my place, and even though her father would have my balls for this if he found out, I couldn’t deny her.

“I want to learn how to shoot one of these days.”

I cocked my head to the side, curious about what she’d just said. “Why? You’ll always have me there to protect you.” I saw the way her cheeks turned pink. She glanced away.

“Maybe one day you won’t be there. I should learn how to defend myself.”

Pride welled up in me that she wanted to be strong, that she wanted to protect herself, but I also wanted to be the one to take care of her. The male side of me, the alpha side, wanted to make sure she was safe.

“That's real good, Layla.” We stared at each other for long seconds, and as much as I wanted to go over there and hold her, I kept my distance. It was better that way. It was smarter that way.

That’s what I told myself anyway.

“You know you can come sit next to me. I don't bite.” She smiled, but it seemed a little hesitant, a little uncomfortable. She was nervous. I could see by the way she kept shifting on the seat, and by the way she kept twisting her fingers together.

I should've stayed where I was by the wall, but I was the stupid fucking fool and I found myself walking toward her. I sat on the couch, willing myself to stay calm. But having her so close ... being so close to her made me feel like a fiend.

She just smelled so good, and I felt her body heat radiate from her and into me. I glanced over and looked at her, and saw she was already watching me.

And then I watched as her body reacted to me, saw the changes right in front of me.

Her pupils dilated, and her respirations became harder. Her mouth parted, her lush, pink lips opening just slightly, making me think of all kinds of filthy things. Her breath came out in short, fast pants.

This is a bad idea. I found myself moving closer to her. This is a really bad fucking idea. I reached out and curled my hand around her neck, pulling her closer. But I can't stop myself. I won't.

* * *

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even think straight. The feeling of Lachlan’s hand on the back of my neck had my blood pressure rising. I felt light-headed, my blood rushing through my veins, my heart pounding hard and painfully against my ribs.

“I want you,” he said, his voice low, deep.

This was a dream, or at least it felt like one. I’d wanted this for far longer than I’d ever actually admit, and it was right here. He wanted me, the same way I wanted him.

He pulled me in closer and our mouths were only inches apart now, his warm breath moving along my lips, making me shiver in anticipation. I didn’t know what to say, how to react. I felt frozen, my emotions and arousal so strong they suffocated me, held me down so I was unable to even think clearly.

And then he was kissing me, his lips pressed right to mine, the feel of pressure making my heart jump. I was wet, my nipples hard, my need strong. He pulled away, and I knew he was holding back, knew he was doing this to be sweet and gentle with me.

I didn’t want sweet and gentle. I wanted the alpha male I knew Lachlan was. I needed it. But before I could lean in and kiss him, be the one who went after what I wanted, he was up and moving away from me. I stood, my hands shaking, not sure if he was having second thoughts or maybe feeling guilt. But I didn’t want to stop.

“Lachlan?”

He didn’t turn to face me, just walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass and a bottle of alcohol out of the cupboard. I watched as he poured himself that shot. I knew I was feeling more loose than normal because of the almost two beers I’d had earlier, and assumed he might need one as well. This situation was pretty heavy.

He turned and faced me, lifting the bottle in a nonverbal question. I shook my head, knowing if I took some hard alcohol, I wouldn’t be able to go through with tonight. I didn’t want to be drunk. I wanted to know what I was doing, who I was doing it with. I wasn’t a drinker anyway, and if two beers made me feel this good, I didn’t want to go over the line with the hard stuff.

“Are you okay?” I asked, because it seemed Lachlan was struggling with this. “This isn’t wrong, Lachlan.”

He exhaled and hung his head for a second. “No, it’s not wrong, Layla.” He turned and faced me then. “It’s really fucking right.” He walked toward me then, this wild expression on his face, this need radiating from him.

I felt myself retreating, not because I was afraid, but because I wanted this.

God, I anticipated this.