Tropical Wounded Wolf: BBW Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance (Shifting Sands Resort Book 2)

by Zoe Chant

Compared to the chilly night air and cool rain, the pool was warm and welcoming, and it glowed with blue orbs of lights underneath the surface. The effect as a whole was eerie and alien, and Mary felt deliciously not herself. Neal’s hand was firm in her own and when he tugged her closer, she glided to him willingly.

  Her legs tangled around him and she pulled him close to kiss, unwittingly nearly dragging them under as they forgot about treading water in the passion of the moment.

  They swam together for the edge of the pool near the waterfall where it grew shallower. Neal hooked an elbow on the ledge there and drew her close. They were protected from the view of anyone who might chance by on the bar deck, as slim a possibility as that was at this hour.

  The sensation of the water all around her, her legs entwined with his, and the delicious pressure of his member against her nether areas was intoxicating. When Neal added his mouth, Mary found herself writhing in need.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged him, when he pulled away, but then he touched her thighs with his hand, stroking at the edge of her lace panties and she could only whimper in pleasure.

  She clung to his shoulders, panting and clawing at him as he used his talented hand to explore her through the wet fabric. When he finally slipped a questing finger under the elastic and into her folds, she gasped and cried out in release.

  “If we weren’t in the pool, you’d be able to tell how wet I am for you,” she said near his ear when she could breathe again.

  “Can you tell how hard I am for you?” he answered, and Mary found his proof with her own hand. He wasn’t bulging now as much as he was straining against the soaked undergarment, his erect cock pulling the elastic away from his legs. There was little resistance from the underwear when Mary pushed it aside, the better to touch the firm, velvety flesh.

  Floating in water was significantly different than tussling on the bed, and it meant a great deal more accidental touching as they struggled to keep their heads out of the water and their bodies in contact. Every touch was electric and new, caressed by the flow of water around them.

  When Neal pulled aside her underwear and slipped into her, it was like being lit on fire. Even the friction of his member inside of her was new for being underwater, and the grip his hands felt fluid and different.

  With touches and thrusts, he brought her to the crest of pleasure, not once, but twice, then pulled away, gasping, “Too hard…”

  “Just hard enough,” Mary laughed back at him, but she followed willingly to the far edge of the pool, and they tumbled out of the water onto the edge of the pool, where they kissed and touched and slipped on the wet tile. The rain had faded to nearly nothing.

  Neal tugged her up onto one of the padded lounge chairs, and Mary shimmied out of her underwear to welcome him, not sure where his briefs had disappeared to in the darkness, but glad they were gone. He slid fingers under her wet bra strap, and she gleefully unclipped it to let her breasts swing freely.

  He worshipped them with his hands, cupping them and running thumbs over the erect nipples, and Mary felt her yearning reach another fever pitch.

  He entered her in a rush, and Mary rose to greet him, moaning softly in satisfaction. Having him close, having him inside her, seemed to fulfill her in a way she’d never known she was missing.

  Clever fingers and the perfect rhythm of thrusts brought her to peaks of pleasure again, and this time, Neal joined her at that crest of orgasm, and finally sank down to embrace her tenderly as their breath returned to normal.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When the chill in the night air finally drove them off the damp lounge, Neal discovered that his briefs had been left behind in the pool, and were floating just beyond the reach of the pool net.

  After grumbling, Neal finally slipped back into the water and swam to retrieve them, and Mary greeted him with a thick towel at the edge of the pool.

  They walked the steps back up to the bar deck where they had shed their clothing and pulled them on. Neal couldn’t help but stare while Mary dressed; all of her curves in the dim light were enchanting and mesmerizing while she struggled to get tight clothing over damp limbs.

  He walked her to her cottage, hand-in-hand, running the last few steps as the rain started up again.

  “Stay with me?” she asked softly as they stood in the doorway, almost begging.

  Neal almost broke at the gentleness of her voice, feeling his heart aching inside him. He took her face in his hands for a gentle goodbye kiss.

  “I… don’t sleep restfully,” he said regretfully.

  “So I’ll sleep in after you leave in the morning,” Mary cajoled. “It’s a big bed…”

  Neal cut her off with a second kiss and a shake of his head. “Soon,” he suggested, and he didn’t want to think about how true that had to be.

  She didn’t try again to persuade him, only gave him a curvy embrace and reluctantly let him go.

  He left her sighing in the open door, lit from behind as he went back out into the dark, back to his own bunk to catch a few hours of sleep before waking to do the morning chores.

  As promised, it was not restful sleep. He lay awake for far too long, thinking about how short his remaining time with Mary at the resort was. Her stay was only a few days more, and he…

  While he couldn’t imagine staying after she left, he also couldn’t imagine fitting into her life. She was a math teacher. He was a broken soldier. She suited a quiet, domestic life. He wasn’t fit for anything.

  Close to dawn, he finally dozed, and the afternoon’s confessions dredged up terrible memories to work into nightmares of horror and guilt. He woke in a sweaty tangle of blankets, his pillow already ejected to the other side of the room.

  He took a utilitarian shower in the tiny bunk bathroom, and when he went to pull on his clothing, he found the paper that Scarlet had given him in his pocket.

  It was already worn; he must have taken it out and refolded it a dozen times over the past several days. Some of the pencil had rubbed off, but Neal had already committed the numbers to memory.

  He could hear some of the other staff rising and heading off to work as he made his way to the empty common room, and he could smell the breakfast that Chef must have been working on for several hours already.

  The rain had let up, but it was still cool, and a thick mist lay over the resort. Neal tried to absorb some of the peacefulness from it as he lifted the receiver. While it rang through the international lines, Neal stared at the black TV screen across the room. Travis and Bastian had tried playing a shooter game with him a few weeks back, but his hands had shaken too much to aim at the animated bad guys. It was a far cry from his steady-handed sniper days.

  When his unit commander, Judy Washburn, answered, her voice was a jarring reminder of his long-ago life.

  For a moment, he could only consider that she probably wasn't still a major, and it seemed terribly important that he didn't know what rank she had now. He stabbed the button to hang up without speaking and buried his face in his hands.

  He wasn’t ready for this yet.

  Mary would tell him he didn’t have to be, he thought, and just the idea of her brought him back into balance. He could almost hear her voice in his ear, reminding him to take whatever time he needed. He didn’t have to heal in a day.

  He almost dialed again, but was interrupted by Travis, who walked briskly into the room and said, “Oh, good timing. I’ll be needing your help at Cottage 12 this morning to get the new interior walls raised.”

  Travis said nothing about the phone that Neal still held in his hands, and Neal didn’t volunteer anything.

  “I’ll be right there,” Neal said, hanging up the receiver and standing.

  “Neal.”

  They both turned to find Scarlet in the doorway. She looked out of place in the shabby room, with the pearls at her throat and her starched linen skirt.

  Neal stood at attention out of instinct, and caught Travis doing the same out of a corner of his eye, thoug
h he didn’t think that Travis had any military background.

  “I’ll need you out of the resort this afternoon.” While Neal was still trying to process the speed of his ejection, Scarlet continued, “Go with Bastian on a mainland boat trip, or head out to clear the waterfall trail, I don’t care, but don’t come back until late tonight or even tomorrow.”

  Neal furrowed his eyebrows. If he wasn’t being thrown out…

  “I’ve got an investor coming here with Beehag’s heir, Benedict, and I don’t want any… incidents.”

  “I don’t know what you think I would…”

  Scarlet raised a silencing hand. “This is not a topic that is open for discussion.”

  Neal remembered Mary’s quiet assessment that he’d never gotten revenge, and surprised them all with a grim smile. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Scarlet nodded, and then swept out as abruptly as she’d come.

  “We’d better get to work while we can then,” Travis said, looking bemused.

  “Right you are,” Neal said cheerfully.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mary couldn’t swim her laps without blushing and remembering the night before in vivid detail, so it wasn’t long before she was crawling out of the water and toweling off more vigorously than usual. Neal had been nowhere to be found since breakfast, but the head waiter had winked at her and said, “He’ll find you for lunch.”

  Scarlet-cheeked, Mary slipped her sundress on over her damp suit and went to the bar for a cold water.

  Tex was behind the bar, strumming melancholy chords on his guitar along with the radio, but he put it down as she approached.

  “What can I get you, darlin’?” he drawled.

  “Just ice water, please,” Mary said, putting the towel carefully over the barstool before she sat.

  “Coming right up.” Tex reached up to get the glass and filled it with a swift scoop of glittering ice from the ice bin.

  Mary wondered how much he knew, or if anyone had caught sight—or sound—of their pool activities the night before.

  “We’re all happy to see Neal smiling again,” Tex said warmly as he put the sweating glass down in front of her.

  Mary’s cheeks felt even hotter. “I, uh. Yes, me too. I mean, it’s a great smile.”

  “I wouldn’t flirt with that bartender.” Neal’s voice surprised her from behind, and Mary swiveled on her stool to find him standing at the back entrance, shirtless and dirty and sweaty.

  It was a heady combination, and Mary wondered exactly how red her face could become.

  She gulped down some of her cold water as Tex protested, “Come on, now. Why shouldn’t she flirt with me?”

  “You’re unlucky in love,” Neal reminded him.

  “It’s a tragic truth,” Tex agreed mournfully. “You’re better off with this one,” he said to Mary.

  “I think so, too,” Mary squeaked.

  Neal’s shirtless proximity was terribly distracting.

  “I thought we might take the boat out snorkeling this afternoon,” Neal told her, accepting his own glass of water from Tex and downing it in a few determined gulps.

  Mary felt the color finally drain from her face. “Oh no,” she protested. “I don’t… not in the ocean. I couldn’t.”

  Neal shrugged. “We could head over to the mainland with Travis, then. Do some shopping, or take the horseback shore tour.”

  “Horseback?” Mary shivered. “I can’t ride. They’re so big, and no. No. I can’t. I don’t need to go shopping. No. Boats, no. Can’t.”

  Tex and Neal blinked at her.

  “I’m afraid of boats,” she confessed sheepishly, feeling their surprised scrutiny.

  Tex found some glasses to wipe, politely looking away.

  “It’s perfectly safe,” Neal suggested, looking baffled at her terror, but her look must have expressed her distrust adequately, and he counter-offered, “How about a hike, then? There’s an easy loop that goes up by a really gorgeous waterfall. It’s about five miles, no boats. We’ll take a picnic lunch.”

  Mary wanted to balk. There were bugs, and snakes, and scorpions out there in the wild jungle, and she’d already had closer relations with a spider than she ever wanted to again. But she didn’t want Neal to think she was a complete ninny, either.

  “That sounds nice,” she said weakly.

  “I’ll grab a shower and get us a bagged lunch,” Neal said briskly.

  “I’ll change clothes and pack a few things,” Mary offered with a brave smile. How bad could it be?

  ‘A few things’ proved to be her entire purse stuffed full, and Mary was glad she had opted for the kind that swung over a shoulder; bottles of water were heavy, and she wasn’t planning to go out without sunscreen and bug spray, or the pocket first aid kit. Spare socks and her raincoat made the bag bulky and awkward, and when Neal caught sight of her, his expression said more than he needed to.

  He was carrying a single water bottle in one of the cargo pockets of his shorts, and, aside from the wicked-looking machete that hung from his belt, appeared to have nothing else extra on him.

  Mary had changed into long, lightweight travel pants and sneakers, and she wished she’d brought heavier shoes, especially once they had hiked out the first mile.

  Neal’s idea of an easy walk was clearly not her own, even though they stopped several times for Neal to hack back the encroaching jungle vines.

  Mary was sweating and itchy and hating the smell of the bug spray she had saturated herself with by the time they stopped for lunch. She picked a rock to sit on that at least gave her a view of any insects that might try to sneak up on her, and could barely eat the lunch that Neal had packed for keeping an eye on the beetles and ants that were crawling around on the jungle floor. The dappled light through the jungle canopy made everything look as if it were always moving, and Mary spent the meal trying not to twitch at every rustle and skittering leaf.

  “I’m sorry,” Neal told her, as they were finally packing up the dirty wrappers. The crumbs were swarmed by ants in a terrifying show of swift insect utility.

  “There you go apologizing again,” Mary said with a weak attempt at a laugh.

  “You’re not having fun.”

  “I’m not an outdoors person,” Mary confessed. “I’m sorry.”

  Neal looked conflicted. “We could go back, but I’m supposed to stay away from the resort until Beehag’s heir is off the property tonight.”

  Mary forgot the bugs momentarily, staring at him in shock. She recalled their conversation from earlier, when she’d pointed out he’d never had his revenge for what Beehag had done to him. “Oh. I can see why Scarlet might not want you around for that.”

  Then it occurred to her. “We’ll be out here until tonight? After dark?” She hadn’t brought a flashlight, and the idea of these big, looming trees after dark, and all the things that would be hiding among them was enough to bring her to hysterics.

  “I plan to be back right about sunset,” Neal said soothingly.

  “Oh,” Mary hiccuped. “Okay.”

  She lifted her chin. “I can do that.”

  It didn’t sound as bold as she would have liked it to, but Neal smiled at her in a way that melted her knees, and she felt able to sling her bag across her body and start hiking again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Neal watched Mary trudge courageously in front of him, distracted by the sway of her hips and the glimpses he got of the curve of her ass. He wished she had brought less with her, mostly because the bulky bag covered his view.

  He wanted to praise her bravery, for continuing to hike out in a wilderness she was clearly terrified of, but he was fairly sure she wouldn’t believe him, and he didn’t want it to sound like empty flattery.

  Shortly after their lunch, it began to rain. At first it was a light drizzle that they heard on the leaves above them more than they felt, but within fifteen minutes, it had turned into a deluge. Mary put on her raincoat.

  “I’m glad I brought this after
all,” she said cheerfully, pulling the hood over her head. “I know you thought I brought too much.”

  Neal was wise enough not to agree with her.

  It was still warm, so Neal didn’t mind that he was shortly soaking wet, but it slowed their progress as the ground became slick and hazardous.

  The trail itself was not wide, knobby roots were constant obstacles to clamber over, and the moss grew slippery as the rain continued.

  Conversation proved difficult, between the concentration on walking and the noise of the rain; the jungle canopy acted like percussion under the raindrops, and the fall of the rain was all collected on leaves that would then dump on them unceremoniously when full of water.

  Mary struggled on gamely, and offered Neal an overly-bright smile whenever their glances crossed.

  This was a terrible idea, he told himself. Way to go, Romeo.

  He would have berated himself further, but then they rounded the corner of the trail and there was an opening in the trees. The view suddenly expanded, showing a tiny cove below, cradled by cliffs, and the waterfall he’d wanted to show her when he’d suggested the hike. Everything was shrouded in mist, so the ocean below was reduced to a single line of breakers before vanishing, and the sky above melted into foggy trees above them.

  The waterfall itself was a silver ribbon from the cliff to their right, crashing past them down to the sliver of beach below.

  “Oh!” Mary said beside him, and her fingers found his as they stared. “It was worth it.”

  If he had not been standing right beside her, Neal would not have heard her over the fierce roar of the little fall and the pounding of the ocean.

  He looked at her skeptically. “Are you sure?”

  Her hair, once neatly braided, was wild and half-loose, plastered against her wet face. Neal wasn’t sure what was sweat and what was rain. Even her raincoat was limp in the wet, and her pants clung to her curves. But her face, already red-cheeked, had lit up at the gorgeous view, and Neal thought that she looked utterly gorgeous in all her disarray.