by Mary Hughes
Chapter Five
She’d locked the door.
Noah had hustled Sophia out of the Blackwood garage because their kiss had his wolf howling so loud he couldn’t think of anything except getting her naked under him. The way she reacted to him, giving so honestly of herself, took his breath away. Never before had he tasted a woman so lively, so bright—so right.
Which was so wrong. Alphas screwed other shifters, and strong shifters at that. They rarely screwed fragile humans, and they especially didn’t screw witches’ nieces.
It confused him, and a confused alpha was a dead alpha, so he’d hustled her out and run the other way as fast as he could.
Leaving her unprotected. His spirit rebelled against that.
Needing to protect her, he’d latched onto his promise to talk with her. He’d come here, rehearsing what he’d tell her. She’d asked for his help, and he had information, but he didn’t know her phone number to call, so he’d come in person.
Then she’d locked the door, and the heat roaring through him blew away all his lies.
He really just wanted—needed—to see her again.
And now they were alone inside a locked store. Stealing a kiss in front of Mason was nearly his undoing. If the firestorm of lust now pouring through him was any indication, the next hour or so would destroy him.
But what sweet, sweet destruction.
She must’ve caught something of what he was thinking because she blushed a very pretty pink, the same shade as her lips. Then she glanced down at his crotch and flushed a luscious crimson, the same shade as her lips after he’d kissed them so very thoroughly.
Slow down, boy. She’s human, not shifter. “I thought if we rehashed what happened last night, we might be able to pinpoint something to find your aunt. Why don’t we sit?” He started for a chair then saw a sofa and headed for it instead. They could sit side by side on the sofa. Easier for talking. They’d sit together and he’d slide his hands under her staid jacket, under her top, up the creamy skin of her belly to her bra, lifting the cups to reveal her breasts, nipples ripe for his suckling until she writhed beneath him, screaming “Take me…” Clenching his fingers, he coached himself to start with talk. Sliding his hands under her suit coat, lifting her top and discovering if her nipples were that pretty pink or luscious crimson could come later.
“All right. Just a minute.”
Her voice was husky. He liked that a lot. He got to the sofa and turned.
She was shrugging off her suit coat jacket, revealing soft naked shoulders and a long creamy neck.
His groin wrenched tight, and his tongue fell out of his stupid mouth.
Human. Not so fast. He shoved his tongue back in and thought deflating thoughts.
Then, carrying the jacket, she started toward him with a sexy sway.
His eyes locked onto her rolling hips and bouncing breasts. His tongue fell back out, his cock ballooned against his fly, and he started panting like an idiot. It was shockingly hard to control himself.
Shifters were preternaturally sexed, sure. But he’d never lusted like this, so hot, so fast.
Fortunately she didn’t see, her gaze on her objective, the old-fashioned coat tree at the edge of the big carpet. He had time to reroll his tongue and give himself a mental cold shower while she hung up her jacket.
He’d barely managed to pull himself back from the edge when she finished with the coat, lifted her gaze, and started toward him.
She hadn’t seen, but she must’ve picked up on something because, with all the soft, overstuffed furniture, she perched primly on the only wooden chair in the whole area. Her knees were pressed together and her lips were almost as tight.
He’d love to loosen them—with his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he meant her lips or her knees. The thought started his groin pulsing, and before he embarrassed himself, he sat, casually crossing his legs.
“So what happened last night?” she asked.
Talk, damn it. “It started with Marlowe. The kid is trouble because of his older brother, who’s even bigger trouble.” Killer was inner cadre for the old, corrupt alpha. Because of Killer, Marlowe was a bully in training. “Marlowe broke into your aunt’s store while she was here.”
Sophia’s hand fluttered to touch between her breasts. “He hurt my aunt?”
“No…” Noah’s gaze followed the hand helplessly to her bosom. His tongue wanted to be that hand. Sliding under her top, testing the weight of her breast, suckling her until she was writhing… He clenched his eyes, hoping it would help.
Even without sight, simply from the curl of her scent dusting the air, his body hardened.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s my mate.
His eyes shot open in shock at the thought. He knew better. Shifters of any caliber rarely mated non-shifters. Alphas, never, because how could a non-shifter lead the pack in a hunt?
His body didn’t want to be rational. It wanted to strip her of that staid pantsuit, throw her onto the couch, and pound into her until she screamed with a full-body release.
His brow broke out in a thin sweat. He had to get himself under control now.
She eyed the couch beside him, the one where he’d been imagining her naked and arching and moaning her pleasure.
He clenched his jaw, reined in his wolf, and moved to sit on a different couch. “No, your aunt was okay. Otherwise I would’ve punished the kid immediately. But he did steal her vibrating ‘mushroom’.” A dildo if Noah’d ever seen one.
From the pink blush rising up Sophia’s delectable cheeks—he barely stopped himself from licking them—she’d seen the thing too.
“Anyway, Linda called me in.” He gave her the rest of the story, except for the hex. It had already worn off and hadn’t done any real damage.
Sophia listened to him without interrupting, a sexy furrow of concentration on her brow.
To stop himself from licking that, he said, “How did you know Linda was missing?”
“Auntie’s a bit…Bohemian. My brother set up an alarm on the store. He’d put a nannycam on her if she’d let him.” One corner of her mouth tipped up.
He wanted to lick that corner so badly he nearly howled.
“We’re a touch overprotective, but since our parents’ deaths, Gabriel and I only have Aunt Linda.”
That kicked Noah’s head out of his pants. “I’m sorry. Why isn’t your brother here, taking care of things?” His words were roughened by a growl. Men who left their women alone in times of need should be neutered with a meat cleaver.
She eyed him nervously.
His expression must’ve reflected his thoughts, unusual for him. He cut the growl. He’d never hurt her—he’d never hurt any woman—but she didn’t know that.
She smiled ruefully and relaxed. “Gabriel’s working out of state. My place is only four hours from Matinsfield, so I volunteered to drive up.”
“That was good of you.” Her caring made her even hotter to him.
“Say.” She tapped her lip. “Do you think maybe Auntie went to confront Marlowe? Get her, um, ‘mushroom’ back?”
There was that blush again, just as lickable as before. “It’s possible.” He shrugged.
Sophia’s eyes dropped to his shoulders and widened.
Well, well. She was impressed by his body? His wolf pranced proudly inside, and maybe his man did a little, too. “She mentioned needing to check out a few things. Do research.”
“Do you know why?”
He shrugged again, just to watch her eyes widen and enjoy her enjoying him. Linda probably wanted a good hex to throw on the kid since the original had backfired.
“Well, maybe the boy knows.” Sophia stood. “Let’s go.”
He stood too. “What?”
“Let’s talk to this Marlowe and find out if Auntie visited him.”
Her sweet, soft flesh anywhere near that hoodlum? Noah’s veins fired. “Absolutely not. That pup is trouble with a capital T. His older brother is trouble with a capital A-to-Z.”
She bit her lip, her pearly white teeth denting the lush red pillow, making him want to lick that. He briefly clenched his eyes. Even on the back of his lids he could see nothing but her. With a despairing sigh, he opened his eyes.
“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but really, the trail is getting colder with every minute’s delay.” She grabbed her suit coat from its hook and dug in a pocket. “I’d hoped you’d come with me, but I guess I’ll have to make do with my pepper spray.”
She headed for the door.
He intercepted her in three strides and lay a restraining hand gently on her arm.
Her bare arm.
His fingers pressed to the smoothest, silkiest flesh in the world. His body went instantly rigid. Her soft little gasp didn’t help. He swallowed his lust, a long, hot sword of it. “Sophia, please. I don’t want you anywhere near those brothers.”
“To be honest, I don’t want to go either.”
“Good. Then let’s go back to the couch—”
“But I have to, don’t you see?” Her gaze searched his for understanding. “It’s not like Aunt Linda to go off without telling me or my brother. If you’re right, Marlowe may have been the last person to see her.” She slid from his fingers and started again for the door.
He needed to stop her. He rationalized it in his head—Marlowe was pack, Noah was alpha, and it was his duty to protect humans from the worst of his pack.
But really, he simply wanted to protect Sophia, with a need that burned white-hot inside him.
No immediate ideas how, though, with her determined to leave, not without tying her up…his body hardened again, so wrong, but entirely too enticing an idea. He shook himself. He was an animal, but he hadn’t lost all humanity. Surely he could keep her from walking out that door in a way that was urbane, gentle, and didn’t give away anything about the state of pack affairs?
His wolf took it out of his hands. He grabbed her and spun her into his embrace. His arms wrapped around the softest curves in the world. Her eyes, gazing up at him, were big and blue, her lips the sweetest pink.
So he had to. He really did.
He kissed her.
Her lips parted on a gasp of surprise. He fell into her sweet mouth. Her breath was warm and minty, her lips plush, velvety. His whole body rose to the feel of her, the scent of her, the taste of her. He thought it couldn’t get any better.
Then she sighed and nestled in, wrapping her arms around his neck and stretching herself along his torso until every inch of them touched.
His whole body went haywire. The press of her, taut in some places, soft in others, exploded pleasure along his skin.
And still it wasn’t enough. He wanted to kiss her, to cuddle her, to be moving inside her—everything, all at once. His need rose so swiftly, so fiercely, that his control temporarily evaporated. Mouth devouring hers, he lifted her and carried her to the couch.
His human intervened, trrying to slow things down, to settle her on the couch and sit beside her so that they could slowly explore each other.
His wolf spread her flat on her back, exposing everything to him in a perfect position to plunder.
She whimpered. Too fast. He reined hard on his ragged control. He was wolf, but she wasn’t. She needed a gentle touch, a sweet seduction. He leaned in and floated his palms along her bare arms.
Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers dug in, and she pulled him on top of her with a desire as fierce as his own.
The tattered reins of his self-control snapped. He stretched out over her, his body completely covering hers—and fused his lips with hers.
She moaned into his mouth and her fingers slid up his neck to curl into his hair. His wolf urged more, harder. His kiss roughened, his tongue plunging deep inside her glorious heat.
And she…she opened to him. Accepted him, wolf and all. Her lips parted to give him greater access, and her thighs spread to nestle his hips.
His wolf howled, reveling in it, in her. At her splendid welcome, his cock sprang full, the bright need shocking him. He cupped her head with both hands and took what she offered, returning it in full, his tongue plunging hard and deep.
She began to ripple up into him. His groan ruffled with the beast’s sexual growl, he rolled his hips against her in return. It dragged his pumped zipper along her pants seam. She gasped into his mouth, soft breath billowing. He rubbed himself into her again, this time deliberately long and slow. Her eyes widened and locked on his. She began to pant.
He searched her gaze and read surprise there—but not surprise at the speed. Surprise at so much pleasure.
Still, she was only human. He said the words. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Well,” she panted. “This is pretty fast.”
His wolf growled. He throttled it. “But do you want me to stop?”
A beat. “No.”
He gave her a fierce smile and rewarded her with a hard stroke of his hips. She moaned and her knees fell completely apart, her legs limp with pleasure. He wanted to slide his hands up her ribs, caress her breasts, tease the tips to tight snaps, but his wolf had other ideas.
He leaned one forearm beside her head, used his freed hand to open her prim slacks, and with a snick of button and zip, he slid his fingers into her panties.
He stroked naked skin.
She jerked at his touch, gasping. Then she moaned, low and long. He’d never heard a sweeter sound. His fingers delighted in her slick warmth, over and over. She was sweet and warm and womanly and he was in heaven.
Her hands wrapped around his triceps, fingers digging in. Urging him to do more, harder, faster. His heart pounded in quickening desire. Her hips tilted, yearning toward his stroking hand. His cock strained against his zipper in response.
He slid a finger inside her and was rewarded with a louder groan. He shifted his hand to cup her sex while pressing his finger firmly inside her. With his palm, he started pumping.
She whimpered. Whispered, “More.”
“I know.” He kissed her, deep, wild. She arched into him. He drove his tongue into her mouth. She sucked at it.
Desire splashed hot in his belly. His cock was straining so hard it was about to burst.
Bite her. He was nearly overcome with the sudden need to take her like a wolf, to throw her up on her knees and fasten himself to her and plow her with rough strokes, to mate like an animal and howl.
He broke the kiss, appalled at himself. How could such a rough act appeal to him? He was a beast. She whimpered, as if underlining the fact.
Then she pumped her hips against his hand and licked his chin, urging him to do exactly as he pleased. She wanted him, beast and all.
Her simple acceptance undid him. It brought sudden clarity; the rough act didn’t appeal—he wanted to take her in the traditional way, in front of the pack to proclaim her as his mate.
By his fangs and claws. How was this possible? Confused, he dropped his head into the crook of her neck.
Her scent, heady and ripe, filled his nostrils. His wolf opened his mouth…and he barely managed to turn his bite into a gentle nip. Her tender flesh was like silk, dusted with the scent of jasmine and woman. She tasted of fresh fields lightly kissed with dew.
Didn’t matter how, where or why. Only who. His blood boiled up and over into a low growl. He thrust a second finger into her and stroked.
She arched into him, breasts pressing against his chest, hips into his belly. Staid navy slacks and a thin blouse didn’t stop him from feeling every feminine curve stamped into his skin like hot irons.
Panting into the crook of her neck, he tried to get himself under control. She undulated and rubbed against him in wild abandon. “I’m almost there…please, Noah.”
His cock was ready to rupture. He could barely keep his fingers steadily stroking her. She was so wet and hot he could just imagine grabbing her hips and plunging deep into her sweet naked body, sinking into her wet welcome—
She stiffened and cried out. Her muscles con
tracted around his fingers, so hard it shot pulses down his arm, straight to his erection. He came in his pants like a green pup, and it was wonderful, the best. Sound evaporated as the world around him exploded with bright lights, all the colors of the rainbow and more, so bright his eyes hurt.
He pulsed an infinity of perfect pleasure, locked in her arms.
Sound zoned back in, his rasping breath and heart thundering in his ears…and soft, even breaths.
He blinked. The bright lights resolved into the Uncommon Bookstore. He and Sophia lay on the old reading sofa.
Sophia had fallen asleep, a tiny smile on her face. He gazed at her in wonder.
From first meet to orgasm in less than a day. Even for shifters that was incredibly fast.
Yet it felt right. Almost as if…
His mate?
No. Couldn’t be. Not a human.
His heart slowed as his body cooled. The wet in his jeans cooled past the point of discomfort. Still, he didn’t move, needing the contact with Sophia—until it occurred to him that she might be uncomfortable too.
He slid off and went in search of a blanket. After that disastrous hexing last night, the aunt had gotten a sheet out of an armoire to cover the mirror. He found it, opened its doors, dug up a light woven blanket, and returned to drape it over Sophia.
She sighed and snuggled in. His heart swelled.
He shushed it. Human. Not his mate.
Still, he pulled a chair near to her and watched over her as she slept.
* * *
The wizard known as X picked up the hem of his silk robe to stalk past the disgusting wolfman into the dirty trailer. X’s familiar hopped off his shoulder, refusing to enter the filthy place. His familiar, X thought, had the right idea.
When X saw what was waiting for him, he stopped in his tracks.
A ragged, stick-thin female cowered in the corner of the trailer. Scowling, X took out his tool, a foot-long rod that was the color of air-bubbled blood. The tool warmed in his hand. He circled it at the cringing female to activate its analytic properties; it would tell him how much magic the skeletal wreck actually had.
At the readings, he snarled. “Can it be? Have you actually found a wolf scrawnier, sicker, and poorer than the rest?”
