What This Wolf Wants

Home > Other > What This Wolf Wants > Page 12
What This Wolf Wants Page 12

by Jennifer Dellerman


  Zan caught up to her in the living room and blocked her from entering the kitchen. “I understand your concerns, angel, I do. I hear it from my mom all the time. I see it in the eyes of the wives of soldiers who’ve died in battle. If the situation was reversed, if it was you doing what I was doing, I’d lock you away in bubble wrap to keep you safe and I’d never lose you.”

  Jackie’s muscles locked in shock and burgeoning hope. “What are you saying, Zan?”

  “I’m saying,” he paused. Stopped. Something flashed in his eyes before they shut down, leaving them void of any emotion. He let go of her and backed away. “I’m saying, I don’t know. I can’t make any decisions right now. I have too much going on in my head as it is.”

  Baffling Jackie even more, Zan walked past her and right out the front door without another word. For several seconds she just stood there, staring after him. Her lips pursed in thought. Instinctively Jackie knew Zan hadn’t said what was on his mind. What she didn’t understand was why.

  Was he playing another trick?

  Jackie could deduce that he was the kind of man accustomed to making snap decisions because he observed and analyzed the world and those around him at all times. His mind was sharp and fast and always working. When he made a decision, he had enough confidence in himself and enough honor to follow through with that decision to the best of his ability. As for their budding relationship, hadn’t he only days ago denied Jackie’s claim they were moving too fast? Hadn’t Zan flat out told her that he knew her? He’d fibbed about his wound to get her to come to him, beat five men to a bloody pulp defending her honor, and then broke into her house to pleasure her senseless. And in a short amount of time, he would be dragging her across the country in order to keep her safe.

  Jackie crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against the wall, blindly staring at the closed front door while she tried to figure out what the crazy wolf was trying to do now.

  She didn’t have long to contemplate. Two car doors slammed and she retreated to her bedroom to finish packing. Minutes later they were on the road, Jackie with a silent Zan in his rental car and Joe and Scott following behind in theirs. Jackie asked Zan to stop at the McDonald’s on the way out and loaded up with artery clogging goodness. While it filled the hole in her belly, nothing could ease the nagging ache that she’d missed something important. Something vital. And if she couldn’t figure it out soon, this, whatever it was she had with Zan, would wither and die.

  She should just let it go. Just get through the next couple of days and then get her butt back home, where she belonged, and leave Zan in Virginia, where he belonged. Her aunt had suffered greatly over the years, every time her husband deployed, every time he re-enlisted to fight in the front line of battles he was long overdue to retire from. He could have stayed in the military, taken a safer position closer to home, but he needed the action, the adrenaline rush. He loved that more than he loved his mate. His mate! And then her son had followed in his father’s footsteps.

  And while her aunt was proud of her men for serving their country, pride couldn’t keep them safe and it sure didn’t ease the emptiness that came with their deaths.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jackie watched Zan drive, the occasional lights from oncoming traffic throwing his features into sharp relief. Lines bracketed his mouth. His hands clenched on the steering wheel, not with his usual confidence but with tension. His eyes were focused dead ahead, as if their very life depended on him getting them to Denver in one piece. And while that might be true to a certain extent, Jackie had a feeling some war was going through his mind, much like in her own. Traffic was minimal, the moon bright enough to lighten the darkest roads and with Joe and Scott behind them, they had safety in numbers.

  Still. She reached up and pulled out the tight band holding her hair off her face, letting the heavy weight fell around her shoulders. Before she could knead away the sharp little aches from released nerve endings, Zan tunneled his right hand through the strands and did it for her. Her chin dropped and she closed her eyes to relish the gentle coaxing of his fingers, letting out a soft moan of pure pleasure.

  “You’re exhausted, Jackie. Why don’t you try and get some sleep.”

  His clever fingers were working some kind of dark magic, putting her into a trance-like state. In the dim interior of the car, his scent surrounding her, his touch soothing her, she felt safe. When his hand dropped to her nape to knead the muscles there, she felt herself almost nodding off.

  “If I nap now I’ll never be able to get to sleep tonight.”

  “I don’t think you’ve had enough sleep for a while now.”

  She slanted a halfhearted glare at Zan through nearly closed eyes. “Are you trying to tell me I look like shit?”

  He grinned, the sight was like the sun shining through storm clouds on a rainy day. She hadn’t realized she missed his smile until then. It gave her a jolt of pleasure to know she’d put it on his face.

  “You could be naked and covered in horse manure and not look like shit.”

  Her lips twitched. “Such a man. That’s because you’d be too busy eying my naked bits.”

  His thumb moved in lazy circles, caressing the pulse in her neck. Feeling the change in him, the warm masculine heat that shifted from tender concern to blazing desire made her pulse jump under his touch. “They’re too beautiful to miss.”

  “If you say so.”

  “More like I know so.” His voice was thick, raspy, sounding strained to her ears. Remembering the microscopic view of said naked bits he’d had when he’d put his mouth to her only yesterday made her face flush with heat. Her thighs clenched against the onslaught of need that dampened between her legs.

  She reached for his hand and reluctantly pulled it away from her neck. “About yesterday...” she began.

  Zan closed his hand into a fist on his thigh. “Don’t even tell me it was a mistake or that it won’t be repeated. Because that would be a lie and you know it.”

  Turning her head, she stared into the night, arms crossed over her middle, hating that he was right. Already she missed his touch, as if a part of her had been cruelly torn from her body. She hated how physically she wanted one thing so desperately she couldn’t sleep at night while intellectually she wanted something far different. Her emotions, normally so centered, where all over the place, bouncing from one extreme to the other, adding to her sleeplessness. If she took what she wanted physically, she ran the risk of destroying her soul. If she went the direction her brain told her to take, her heart just might shrivel up and die.

  So once again she was back to the realization that she and Zan were in a no-win situation, at least for her. And since she didn’t know what to do, she did nothing and said nothing, letting the car fill with an uncomfortable silence.

  It was with a sense of relief when, just over two hours later, Zan pulled into a hotel near the Denver airport. She waited in the car and chatted with Joe and Scott for the brief time it took Zan to check in. Soon she was walking through the door of her room, taking in at a glance the king sized bed that dominated the room, the armoire that no doubt held a TV, and the square table with three chairs topped with a mini coffee maker, cups, and various accoutrements. Zan followed behind her, his duffel bag slung over one broad shoulder, her suitcase in his hand. When he shut the door and locked it, she raised one brow in question, hoping he didn’t hear the sudden drumming of her heart.

  “What are you doing?”

  He dropped the duffel on the floor next to her case. “Locking us in for the night.”

  Her breath hitched. “Us?”

  Now he raised a brow. “You didn’t think I was letting you sleep alone and vulnerable, did you?”

  “I don’t need a guard, Zan.”

  “Maybe I do.” As her eyes narrowed, his filled with steely determination. “This is non-negotiable, Jackie. I’m staying.”

  “Fine.” She backed away from the dark hunger and possessiveness he couldn’t hide.

>   A small burst of shifter power crackled through his control, lifting the hair on her nape. He was a predator at that moment and instinctively she took several slow steps away until the edge of the bed hit the back of her legs.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Fucking relax, woman. I’m not going to jump you.” He turned away, muttering something too low for her to hear, and picked up his bag. “I’m taking a shower.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” he shot back, clearly frustrated with her.

  It wasn’t until she heard the shower that she galvanized into action. By the time Zan came back out, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, Jackie had already changed into Pjs and was covered to her chin by the bedding, flipping through the channels of the TV.

  Zan watched her silently for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. He set his phone on the nightstand and climbed in next to her, on top of the bedding with his back to the headboard. He switched the light off and then snatched the remote out of her hand, making her gasp.

  “Get some sleep,” he ordered, his tone riding the ragged edge of control. Jackie felt that same edginess in the taut pull of his muscles as they flexed under the damp T-shirt. Unconsciously, she licked her lips and her eyes drifted lower. The soft sweats cupped his cock as she ached to do and stretched across his solid thighs.

  He growled. “You keep looking at me like that and they’ll definitely be a repeat of yesterday.”

  Jackie sucked in air and immediately flipped over, presenting him with her back. She heard his soft curse and twisted the sheet in her fist. It wasn’t his words that had caused her to react so stupidly. It was mortification at being caught staring at his groin and the desire that had turned her mouth into a desert. She wanted him. Bad. So bad that her body practically shook with it. Despite the heat scorching through her veins, she burrowed deeper under the covers and closed her eyes, praying for a sleep that was a long-time coming.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zan woke in the night to the sweetest and most erotic sensation. He must have fallen asleep because he’d been dreaming of Jackie. Again. God he was exhausted. Ever since meeting the prickly doctor, he’d done little more than toss and turn on tangled sheets, thinking of Jackie, wanting her. Each night he either relived snapshots of their encounters, from the frustrating confrontations at her denial of their mate status to the way her taste exploded on his tongue, or imagined new and passion-filled scenarios.

  But in this dream Jackie took charge, her small hands cool against his heated flesh as she stroked his body to awareness. Dancing those delicate fingers down, down to where he throbbed with aching need. He was so turned on he was afraid he’d embarrass himself in a damn dream. Then her lips closed around his cock, sucking him deep and the instinctive jerk of his hips brought him to full awareness.

  His breath was harsh and jagged as he peered through slitted eyes into the dark room. An unbelievably hot, naked, and gorgeous woman straddled one of his thighs, one hand splayed over his abdomen while her other wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking in tandem as her lips glided over his engorged flesh.

  He groaned as pleasure drenched him. He’d been touched plenty, but something about her hands, her lips, felt different, more sensual, more powerful.

  She’s our mate.

  The thick fall of her hair partially hid the erotic sight, though the feel of the soft strands brushing his thighs and belly only added to the sensuous delight. When she did something wonderfully wicked with her tongue he arched helplessly into her.

  “God, angel. What are you doing?” He slid a hand through her hair. Not to stop her. Oh, hell no. He wanted to touch her. He always wanted to touch her. Of course the unobstructed view of his shaft clamped between her lips was only a bonus. Really.

  She peered up at him through her lashes, the provocative sight almost enough to make him blow his wad. “If you don’t know, you’ve been with the wrong women.”

  His fingers flexed on her head when she took him back into the haven of her mouth, his eyes crossing when she used the tip of her tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock. Another groan escaped. “Fuck. I know what you’re doing. But you said no.”

  Once again she paused, slanting him an amused look. She blew softly over his glistening flesh and he shivered. “That was then, this is now. Do you mind? I’m a little too busy to talk.”

  He actually took a moment to think about it, knowing if she continued he wouldn’t last much longer. His balls were already tight, the need to come rising to critical levels. And while the image of spilling in her mouth had his toes curling with anticipation, he wanted to be deep inside her body when he came… after a taste of his own.

  Moving so fast the motion was a blur, he switched their positions so that Jackie lay on her back and Zan knelt between her thighs. This time it was her hand that brushed over his hair. “What are you doing?”

  Zan flashed a lascivious grin that matched the lift of one wicked eyebrow. “If you don’t know, you’ve been with the wrong men.”

  She was still wearing her panties but the thin material was no barrier for his marauding mouth. The scent of her arousal had teased him all damn day. It had been nothing less than torture to remain stuck in that car, scenting her need with every breath he took. Then her damn denials, again. He was mighty sick of the word “no” and now, given another opportunity, he wasn’t going to throw it away by ending it all to soon.

  He laid his lips over the damp fabric, pressed his tongue to the very heart of her. Jackie made a small sound and clenched his head.

  Grinning, he brushed aside the panties and found himself fixated on the glistening flesh, so pink, so pretty, and so damn wet for him that he growled. Then he feasted, devouring the flavor of her like the sweetest treat, because to him she was. His tongue flashed over her clit in raspy caresses while his thumb teased the entrance of her sex, spreading her juices over her folds and into his mouth.

  She was crying out softly, writhing in growing tension under his touch. Her abandoned responses were an aphrodisiac to his senses. He kept his gaze riveted on her, watching her torso arch, her breasts thrust high, and her arms outstretch as she grasped handfuls of the bedding in her fists. His tongue darted over her clit again and again, one arm over her abdomen to keep her from thrashing away.

  “Please. Oh God, please Zan.” She gasped. Then her breath caught as he slid a finger inside her, thrusting deep. He groaned as her muscles closed around him, his cock twitching in agonizing need. But not yet. He would hold on to his willpower. When she started to tremble he added a second finger, twisting his wrist as he plunged into her pussy. Suddenly she gave a long hissing moan and Zan felt the orgasm jolt through her. He was desperate to jump up and drive himself in her, bury his cock to the hilt. Instead he stayed with her through every twist of her body, every shudder, drawing out her release.

  His lust was riding so high that Zan felt bruised as he quickly shed his shirt and the sweatpants Jackie had pulled to his thighs. Somehow he still had the presence of mind to rip into his bag and yank out a condom. He tore it open with his teeth as he climbed up Jackie’s body to kneel between her thighs and sheath himself.

  Her legs were limp when he lifted them. He planted a lingering kiss on each creamy thigh before crossing her legs over her belly. The position tilted her hips up and left her wide open. He held on to her folded legs with one hand and parted her damp folds with his other. Torturing them both, he rubbed his erection through her wetness, coating his shaft and stroking her clit.

  “Dammit Zan. Don’t make me kill you,” Jackie pleaded and demanded at the same time.

  “If you kill me, then I can’t do this.” Zan wasted no more time breaching her body. Pushing past the sensitive ring of muscles that clutched at his invasion, he only managed to get the head of his cock inside her before he had to squeeze his eyes closed against the burning urge to lose himself completely. Pulling out, he thrust back in her moist heat, carefully stretching her, filling her. Anoth
er powerful stroke and he was almost there. The fourth plunge had him seated to the hilt and he froze, savoring the exquisite grasp of her pussy. Her inner muscles trembled around him, like a thousand tiny fingers kneading his cock, holding him inside her.

  “You’re so fucking tight, you’re killing me. I don’t know...Fuck.” He snarled and gripped her feet, holding them tight as he lost all control. Lost in a world of irrevocable pleasure, he thrust the hard length of his cock into her in heavy, driving lunges. Being with her, taking her was incredibly hot. The pleasure so unlike any he’d ever known.

  He looked down, unable to help himself from watching as he thrust inside her. As he drew free, glistening with her cream, he growled low and rough, possessive. “Mine.” He nipped her toe with his teeth before his eyes once again dropped to where they were joined. Spreading open her dark pink folds, he was mesmerized by the sight of him emerging and then disappearing inside her body. Her clit was exposed as well and, knowing what she liked, what she needed, he used his thumb to stroke the hard bundle of nerves.

  “Oh God. Oh God. It’s happening again.” She choked out, her hands flared out, scrambling for purchase.

  He shafted her harder, desperately. Tunneling through her sweet sex with everything he had. She made him crazy. Wild with passion, wild with the possessive need to bind her to him forever. He took her fast, faster, with deep, driving strokes that had him at the edge even as satisfaction surged through him when she tightened around him.

  “That’s it,” he urged her, praising her. “Come for me, angel. Let me feel you explode around me.”

  “Bastard,” she cried out between ragged pants.

  Zan chuckled, the sound abruptly cut off when her hands latched onto his hips. Her fingers dug into his skin, her short nails biting into his flesh. Pleasure-pain burst through him, violent sprays of colors blinded him. He took her impossibly harder, his orgasm screaming for release.

 

‹ Prev