"I didn't mean to,” Graham said tersely, his shoulders bunched in tension. “It was an accident."
"You accidentally almost ripped her throat out? Now I've heard everything.” With a wicked grin, the man climbed to his feet. “You made a mistake by keeping her in the dark, because she's about to find out about our kind right now, and it isn't going to be the gentlest way to break her into our world."
There was a loud popping noise and Morgan cringed in fear. While she watched with wide, horrified eyes, the stranger's body began to change. Bones shifted, skin tore. It was like being trapped in a nightmare, only she knew that this was all too real.
The man screamed and writhed, inhuman growls escaping his lips. In less than a minute, the man's body was completely gone. In its place now sat the biggest wolf she'd ever seen.
Graham stood frozen in dread, his gaze darting to Morgan. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He looked as if he didn't know what to do, as if he were silently debating his options.
The animal snarled and snapped at Graham. It hunched low to the ground, its muscles poised for attack.
Before Morgan could realize what was happening, the wolf lunged, taking Graham to the ground. It's teeth gnashed in Graham's face, saliva dripping down to cover Graham's neck.
Unable to help herself, Morgan screamed. What was that thing? How had that man been able to do that? And he'd accused Graham ... Her thoughts trailed off in horror and her eyes slid to her date, uncertainty and fear plain in her expression.
Graham was pinned underneath the snarling animal trying to keep it from sinking its fangs into his throat. In one quick motion, he flipped the wolf off of him, sending it roughly into a tree. He then struggled to his feet. Giving Morgan an apologetic look, he turned his back on her. Without a warning, his body shifted, changing until it turned itself into a second wolf.
Graham's change was less violent and much smoother than the other man. It barely looked as if he was in any pain during the transformation. The damage had mostly been to his clothing, which now lay in shreds at his feet.
Morgan gave a gasp as the animal glanced over its shoulder at her as if to gauge her reaction.
The wolf Graham had become was beautiful. His fur was a soft cream color that she'd never seen on a wolf before. She thought about being afraid, but Graham's soft blue eyes stared back at her, a soothing expression in their depths.
In an instant, it was over, the connection broken as the other wolf staggered to its feet.
Graham, in his wolf form, spun to face the other animal, placing himself between Morgan and his assailant. His lip curled back and he snarled, showing off a vicious set of teeth.
The other wolf growled in response, the hair on its back raised in agitation. It moved to circle around Graham, taking small, testing steps.
Graham gave a warning growl, staying in his spot in front of Morgan. The muscles in his strong shoulders bunched as he crouched low to the ground. He looked ready to pounce at the slightest movement.
Morgan's heart was beating so frantically in her chest that she was afraid it might burst free. She was frozen in fear, filled with concern for Graham. She knew there was nothing she could do. If she interjected herself into the fight, she would be killed. The claws on both men were so wicked and razor sharp, they would tear her to shreds with one swipe of a paw. She watched helplessly as both animals simultaneously pushed off the ground and lunged at each other.
They collided in midair, collapsing to the ground in a mess of teeth, fur, and claws.
Morgan stayed where she was. Even if she wanted to help, it would have been impossible. They were moving too fast, their strikes too violent for her to even think about assisting Graham. To her relief, it didn't look like Graham needed the assistance.
Though the other man was getting in a few blows, they weren't very effective.
Graham was averting most of the stranger's blows and delivering ones of his own that would have killed a normal man. He was overpowering his opponent. He was winning.
Morgan sat in nervous silence as she watched the wolves fight back and forth. While she watched the tussle, she tried to keep her mind from piecing this situation together. It was too unbelievable, too unreal. If she started thinking too hard on what was right before her eyes, she would panic. It would be easier to deal with that later, once Graham was safe.
The wolf that had once been the stranger gave a high-pitched yip as Graham sunk razor sharp teeth into his neck. Kicking his feet out in desperation, he flung Graham away from him.
Graham hit a nearby tree with enough force to shake it, then slid to the ground below. He groggily shook his head, trying to reorient himself.
The man took this moment of freedom to turn and bolt into the woods. He ran as fast as his injured wolf form could take him, disappearing from sight.
Recovering from the jarring collision he'd had with the tree, Graham climbed to his feet and looked as if he was about to pursue the man. He took one step forward, but then stopped. With a shake of his furry head, he sat down.
A moment later, the Graham Morgan knew and recognized was sitting before her.
He leaned back against the base of the tree he'd been thrown into with a pained groan. He was completely naked, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his tanned chest. His breath coming in ragged huffs, he said, “He's too far for me to catch up.” On Morgan's confused look, he added, “He got into a car that was parked next to the highway. I can't track him in that."
Morgan slid slowly into the driver seat to look out the opened door, her eyes roaming over his assortment of cuts and bruises. With a frown of bewilderment, she said, “I didn't hear a car."
"I did.” He grimaced, touching a spot on his chest that was raw and tender looking. “We kind of have super hearing ... and we run pretty fast too ... obviously, by the fact that he's already at the highway,” Graham said in between gulps for air. “Trust me. With the shape I'm in, I'm not catching him tonight."
"Okay,” she agreed as if she had any idea of how hard it would be to track down and catch the man ... wolf ... thing. Tentatively, she inched out of the car. “You're bleeding,” she said gently, motioning toward his right eyebrow.
Above his eye there was a nasty looking cut that was trailing blood down the side of his face.
Graham lifted a shaky hand to touch his eyebrow, swiping at the blood to keep it from running into his eye. “I'll be okay. I heal pretty fast."
Morgan bobbed her head, once again agreeing as if she had a clue. Her mind was whirling, the craziness of what had just happened making it hard to process anything.
Graham gave a grunt of pain as he attempted to climb to his feet.
Pushing all her worries aside, Morgan rushed over to him, putting her arms around his waist to help him stand.
He gave a grumble that she took as a thank you and began hobbling toward the house. Neither of them spoke until they were safely inside and Graham had locked the door.
Morgan was the first to break the silence, concern in her voice. “Where's your bedroom? You should lie down."
Graham nodded his head in the direction of the hallway.
Morgan continued to help him walk, but with each step his movements became better and better. When they reached the bedroom, he wasn't even limping anymore.
Morgan deposited him to sit on the edge of the bed and made her way into the connecting bathroom. “Let's see if we can get you cleaned up.” Rummaging in a cabinet, she found a washcloth and put it under the faucet in the sink, turning on the hot water. “You're probably going to need stitches,” she warned him.
"Nah,” came Graham's amused voice. “I'll be fine."
Morgan shut off the water and made her way back into the bedroom. She was surprised by his lack of concern over his health. If it was her, she'd be crying like a baby and begging for painkillers. “I wouldn't be so sure. You're bleeding an awful amount.” Standing in front of him, she tentatively dabbed at the blood covering
his eyebrow. She kept a careful eye on his expression, waiting for him to grimace because she'd hurt him. When he didn't seem to be in any pain, she applied a little more pressure, trying to get the blood free that was clinging to his skin.
Leaning over, she looked for the cut she'd seen earlier, wanting to know how badly he'd been hurt. To her amazement, his skin was smooth and flawless. She blinked in astonishment. She'd seen the cut earlier. She'd seen it gushing blood down the side of his face. “But ... but there was so much blood..."
"I told you I heal fast."
"Yes ... but ... this is impossible ... I saw the cut when we were outside. It was there just a minute ago. Things like that just don't disappear.” Morgan's gaze lowered to his, her eyes full of questions she was too afraid to ask. She jumped when Graham took her trembling hand in his, her nerves more on edge than they'd ever been in her entire life.
"Don't look at me with fear in your eyes,” he pleaded. “You have to realize that I'd never hurt you.” He gave a weary sigh. “I'm trying to catch the people like me who hurt humans."
"People like you?” Morgan squeaked.
Graham stared up at her, his blue eyes as serious as Morgan had ever seen them. “I'm a werewolf, Morgan.” He paused, letting that sink in. “I think you kind of figured that out already though."
Morgan stared down at him, trying not to hyperventilate. “How is that possible? I just...” she trailed off, not knowing what to say.
"I was going to tell you,” he said, gently rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. “It's just that it's a hard subject to bring up."
Morgan's free hand lifted to the scar at her throat as the memory of their encounter with the stranger ran through her mind. “That man said you trapped me in a lifelong commitment. What did he mean by that?"
Graham flinched, his eyes tightening around the edges. “I didn't intend for that to happen, but I knew who you were and in all of the excitement, I got carried away."
"You knew who I was?” Morgan asked in confusion.
"A person's inner wolf is supposed to be able to recognize their soul mate. It picks the one person they're meant to be with. When you kissed me, my wolf started going crazy. I've never felt anything like that before in my life."
"So you believe we're soul mates?” Morgan asked a little skeptically.
"I believe it down to the very depths of my soul,” Graham confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I would move heaven and earth to keep you safe."
"So you marked me,” Morgan stated slowly, her mind forming around concepts that seemed implausible. “That way no others of your kind would mess with me."
On Graham's nod, she gently extracted her hand and went back to cleaning the blood that streaked his face. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible to her own ears. With his heightened sense of hearing, she knew Graham would be able to hear her though.
Trying to focus on one thing at a time, Morgan moved the rag to his shoulder, wiping away what had earlier been a ragged scratch. Now all that remained were a few droplets of blood.
As Morgan cleaned what used to be wounds, Graham's hands slid hesitantly around her thighs, loosely holding her. He didn't want to pressure her, but he also wanted her to know that she had nothing to fear from him.
Morgan chose not to comment on his arms being wrapped around her legs. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to stay where he was or leave her alone. She wasn't even sure what she'd say if she opened her mouth to speak. Instead, she diligently moved to his chest, swiping at a thin, crimson line. As her fingers gently grazed along his chest, she suddenly became very aware that he was unclothed.
Graham was naked and filthy, with patches of dirt dusting his skin. He had a grass stain along one forearm, leaving his skin a dull green. He smelled earthy, like a forest in spring. She wasn't sure how much of it was due to his tussle outside and what was his natural scent. It was such a musky, male smell that her stomach tightened and her body quivered at the memory of what it felt like to be in his arms.
Morgan's gaze lowered to his and she found him staring at her with a frightening intensity. His eyes had darkened with a desire that looked so primal it sent a chill down her arms. He'd marked her as his own and his expression stated just how true he found that to be.
Morgan could read his thoughts in those eyes, could tell his every desire. “Graham,” she cautioned in a whisper.
He ignored her warning and trailed his hands up and over her hips. “You know, by werewolf customs, you would be recognized as my wife.” In his voice there was a sound of complete possession.
Morgan's breath hitched in her throat at the low tone of his voice. She'd never had anyone value her the way Graham's eyes said he did. It shook her to her very core. When he looked at her like that, it made her believe that perhaps he was the man she was meant to spend the rest of her life with.
"I wish to pleasure you like no one else ever has before,” Graham practically growled. His hand wrapped around her wrist and he pulled her into his lap. “Though I don't believe now is the time for wild, rampant sex.” With sure fingers, he began unbuttoning her shirt. “Tonight I need to show you gentleness and passion. I need to show you exactly how I feel about you. I don't want you to have any doubts about the fact that you are meant to be mine. I need to prove to you that I am in fact your soul mate.” He slid her shirt down her arms, pressing a lingering kiss to her right shoulder.
"Graham,” Morgan whispered, her voice wavering. Almost all of the warning had left her voice, replaced with an eagerness she couldn't hide. She closed her eyes in delight as he unhooked the back of her bra and began slowly removing the garment.
Graham cupped both of her breasts in his hands, caressing and kneading ever so gently. After a moment, he leaned his head down and gently ran his cheek along the curve of her right breast.
Morgan remembered him mentioning scenting the first time they were together. She knew animals would rub their faces along things they considered to be theirs. Graham was scenting her. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced in her life.
Graham lifted his head slightly and took her nipple into his mouth, gently rolling his tongue around it.
Morgan hissed in response, arching her back. “Mmm, Graham.” Her voice had gone from warning to praise. Underneath her, she could feel the evidence of his arousal. It was a promise of what he intended to do with that wonderful part of his body.
In one swift motion, Graham flipped her onto her back on the bed. With slow deliberation, he kissed his way down her stomach until he reached the edge of her skirt. Slowly he peeled it off, flicking his tongue along her now exposed skin.
Five minutes and a hundred teasing kisses later, he had her naked beneath him.
"I shouldn't be feeling the things I am for someone I've only been intimate with a few days,” Morgan breathed against his neck as he slowly pushed his way inside of her.
He slid fully inside her, filling her to the point that she couldn't take any more. He filled her to completion. His body fit perfectly in hers, like he was made just for her.
"You've never felt this way because no one else was your soul mate. I am,” Graham said matter-of-factly. The calmness of his voice made it sound as if he was talking about something as unimportant as his plans for dinner.
"Graham, don't do this to me,” Morgan pleaded. Tears began forming in her eyes and she was unable to fight them back.
"Do what?” Graham asked. He shifted his position so he could rub his thumb along her cheek, wiping away one of her tears that had escaped to trail down her face.
When he moved, Morgan's body tightened on his, clenching around him to keep him buried inside her. She heard him groan in delight, and, despite the fear in her, it brought goose bumps to her skin. Shivering, she turned her head away so he couldn't see the vulnerability in her eyes. “Don't say such things,” she said quietly. “Don't make me fall in love with you. I won't be able to take that kind of heartache when this doesn't work
out."
"Why wouldn't it work?” Graham asked in concern. “There's nothing you could do that would make me turn my back on you."
"You say that now,” Morgan practically whispered, “but what about ten years from now? No one stays together anymore. The divorce rate is...” She trailed off, not even wanting to think about it.
"Oh, Morgan,” Graham said softly. He placed a finger under her chin and turned her head to face him. “This is going to work out. The werewolf divorce rate is extremely low. We mate for life. If it's me you're worried about, you can rest assured that I'm not going to leave you heartbroken. You'll never have to worry about me leaving you. I'm not going anywhere.” He pressed his lips to hers in a soft, tender kiss. “Ever."
Limbs trembling, Morgan responded to his kiss, her body rejoicing at the taste of him on her lips. “This is all so fast,” she whimpered.
"I know it's fast. It's been unbelievably fast, but you have to listen to your heart. This is right. You know it feels right."
Morgan nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I know. I'm just scared."
"Don't be scared, sweetheart,” Graham soothed, kissing her damp cheeks.
Morgan stared up at him through watery eyes and knew it was too late to be afraid. She felt things for Graham that she'd never felt for anyone else, although she hadn't known him all that long. It was too late to fight it, so she just gave in. Tilting her chin up, she brushed her lips along his, inviting him to kiss her.
No sooner was the invitation out when Graham's lips descended on hers. He kissed and nibbled and teased while his hips pulled back only to slowly return. He thrust in and out of her in a rhythm so measured, so leisurely that Morgan was whimpering in frustration.
He would thrust ever so slowly into her depths then hold himself frozen for a few heartbeats with his body inside hers as far as it could go.
Morgan whimpered into his mouth, her arms sliding around his neck while their lips moved slowly against each other. She'd heard the expression make love to someone, but it wasn't until now that she fully understood what it meant.
More Bark Than Bite Page 5
