Free Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set by Megan Hart

might’ve laughed at the look on his face if everything didn’t hurt so bad and if she weren’t so freaked out by what had happened. That and the dream. Always the dream.
    A strangled sob had forced itself out of her throat before she could stop it. She found herself pressed against him, though if she’d reached for him or he’d pulled her close, she didn’t know. What she did know was that his hand stroking her hair felt good, as did his arms around her. Even the pressure of his body on her aching bruises lessened the pain.
    When he picked her up and carried her to the bed, she expected him to lay her down, but instead Jordan sat on the edge of it and held her on his lap. Monica was no small woman and had never been fond of being made to feel delicate, but something in the way he cradled her only made her bury her face against the side of his neck.
    â€œHow did I get back here?” she asked against his skin.
    Jordan hesitated before answering. “I found you. What the hell were you doing out there by yourself?”
    She bristled at his tone, but when she tried to pull away, he held her close. “You’re hurting me.”
    â€œSorry.” He loosed his grip, but not enough to let her go. “You’re going to be sore for a while.”
    â€œNo shit,” Monica said. “Something attacked me.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t have been out there alone,” Jordan said.
    â€œI can take care of myself,” she snapped.
    Jordan slid his hand to the back of her neck and buried his fingers in her hair, tipping her head back hard enough to make her gasp—and yes, it made her body ache, but that wasn’t why. His eyes narrowed.
    â€œObviously, you can’t,” he said in a low voice.
    Monica didn’t try to struggle. Part of her knew he was right. Her role here had never been to hunt down the creature on her own, but to determine what it was so the Crew could come in and work together on it. Still, she pushed at his chest, though she couldn’t get away from him.
    â€œI was out walking, trying to think. Then I heard the peacocks screaming,” Monica said. “What did you expect me to do? Not try to see what it was?”
    His mouth was very close to hers, though how it had happened, exactly, she couldn’t say. He was going to kiss her, and yes, she was going to let him. Because that was what took away the pain and the fear, and because in his arms she could forget that she’d gone up against something that might’ve killed her, and this time, despite how hard she’d fought, she had not killed it. Something had saved her, and it had not been herself.
    She couldn’t think of it. And he wasn’t kissing her, so she pulled his mouth down to hers. She gave him her tongue. At his soft groan, Monica pressed herself against him, writhing and ignoring the pain.
    He pinned her wrists suddenly and held her away from him. “Monica. Don’t. You don’t really want this.”
    â€œWant? Maybe not,” she said. “ Need , Jordan.”
    And she did need it. Needed to fuck away the memories and the pain and the fear, the anxiety. She shifted, twisting, to straddle him. He still held her wrists, keeping her from pushing against his chest, but that didn’t stop her from grinding her crotch down on his.
    â€œI don’t want to hurt you,” Jordan said.
    Monica slowed but didn’t stop the steady rocking of her hips against his hardening cock. “I can handle it.”
    She leaned to flick her tongue along his lower lip. He didn’t release his grip on her wrists, but he did soften. Then he pulled her toward him. He kissed her, hard, until she gasped.
    â€œI’ll hurt you,” Jordan said into her ear, then slid his teeth along her throat.
    His tongue stung the cut there, and she hissed. He gave a low growl and nipped her. Monica jerked, the pain so mingled with pleasure she couldn’t be sure