by Renee Rose
* * *
After pinching her nipple, Ben walked toward the bedroom, yanking off his t-shirt. He was the picture of masculine power, his lean muscles of his naked torso rippling with movement. She’d seen the bulge of his erection, and yet, once again, he hadn’t claimed her. Despite her orgasm moments ago, her body thought only of being under him, his huge cock penetrating her, making her scream as he took her roughly.
She hardly knew what to think about where they stood. After licking her wounds in the car, she knew she had no reason to be upset. He’d never made her any promises. She was disappointed and hurt, and didn’t like feeling like she’d been dumped, but she was still certain that Ben Stone felt something for her. Maybe it was just physical attraction, maybe it was something more.
All she knew was he made her feel desirable and sexy. He made her feel other things she’d never felt before. Crazy things—like she would willingly let him string her wrists from the ceiling and whip her with his belt again if that turned him on. Because in retrospect, it sure as hell turned her on. She squeezed her bottom, feeling the sting that still lingered from his spanking. She adored his dominance, found his power intoxicating. The thought of him punishing her again made her cream her panties. She didn’t understand it, but she definitely wanted more.
She should have pressed him more about why he couldn’t be with her. She’d been afraid of what answer he might give and had chosen to take personal offense rather than keep a cool head and just try to understand him. Now her mind had conjured a million possibilities. Maybe humans and shifters literally couldn’t mate. Or maybe it was against their rules to be with a human.
Except Zolla had said something about Ben marking her, which implied that they could take human lovers. What did marking her mean?
She heard the bedroom door bump and the largest black wolf she’d ever seen came trotting out. She drew a breath and held it, her skin prickling. Even knowing it was Ben, she still found the beast terrifying. He stood higher than her waist, with thick black fur and huge jowls. He trotted toward the rear of the house, where a doggy door had been installed. Before he left, he turned to look at her, as if in warning.
“I know, I know. I’m staying right here.”
The wolf’s jaws opened, revealing a row of vicious teeth, but she could have sworn he was smiling at her. It reminded her of her first day working for him and she smiled back, despite her pride. The wolf lowered himself to squeeze through the door, which was too small for him, and ran out.
She curled up the sofa and buried herself in the book she’d found on Zolla’s shelf. At first she didn’t think she’d be able to concentrate, but her mind was so thrilled with a distraction—any distraction from her worry over Melissa and her situation with Ben—that she found herself swept away to an alien planet.
She didn’t re-emerge for a couple hours, when her stomach started growling. She padded to the front door and opened it, looking around for Ben. The wolf was sitting on the front steps. He turned and bared his teeth at her.
She froze, her body having an autonomic reaction to the danger an enormous, snarling wolf presented. Reason took over, and she forced herself to step out and sit down on the step beside him.
Ben got up, shoving his nose under her thigh, as if to make her stand, too. When she didn’t, she saw teeth again. He bit the fabric of her skirt and tugged, making a growling sound. Refusing to be cowed by him, as terrifying as he may be, she rubbed his head. “Okay, okay, I’ll go back in. But I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”
He leaned his body against her legs, pressing her forward and through the door.
She laughed. “All right, I’m in. You want me to see if there’s any food here?”
The wolf looked toward the kitchen.
“Okay. Let’s see what your friend Zolla keeps in his cupboards.”
She walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, which only contained a few take-out containers, beer, and condiments. She opened the cabinets. He had plenty of non-perishables: cans of soup, beans, macaroni and cheese packages. She pulled out a couple of cans of chili. “You probably want meat, right?”
She searched the drawer for a can opener and, finding one, opened the can.
She wondered if Ben would shift back. In a way, it was easier with him in wolf form. She wouldn’t be offended by his lack of conversation. And it was hard to be mad at a wolf.
She dumped the chili into two bowls and heated it up in the microwave. “I’m actually a good cook, not that you’ll be able to tell from this meal. Maybe someday you’ll let me cook for you. What was up with neither you nor Karen eating my banana bread? That was downright rude.”
The wolf’s mouth opened again and she thought he was laughing at her.
“What? It was. What’s up with you and Karen, anyway?”
When the wolf actually rolled his eyes, she chuckled. “No? Nothing?”
He stepped around her and she instinctively backed away, then gave a nervous laugh. The kitchen seemed tiny with his huge four-legged body taking up space. “It’s hard not to be intimidated by you,” she said. Forcing herself to conquer her fear, she stepped forward and held out her hand for him to sniff.
She thought he might be laughing at her again. She buried both hands in his fur, rubbing his soft ears and the thick fur at the scruff of his neck. “You sure are beautiful.”
He held still for it, but she couldn’t tell whether he liked it or not. Maybe being pet like a dog was beneath a werewolf.
The microwave beeped and she took their bowls out, setting his on the floor at his feet. “Sorry if that’s not how you eat. I’m new at this.”
It seemed fine, because he cleaned his bowl in about one minute flat. She’d only taken a few bites in the time it took him to eat. “Do you want more?”
He gave a little chuff, which she took to be affirmative, so she opened another can of chili and heated it up for him. She stared at his huge form as he ate. He was as tall as a Great Dane—the kind of dog you make jokes about riding like a horse.
If they had children together, they could ride him. Sheesh, where did that thought come from? They weren’t having children together. They weren’t even dating. They got each other off and that was the end of it.
* * *
Though he hated being indoors when in wolf form, he hung around with Ashley that afternoon.
He had run to Ashley’s place when he first went out and sniffed around. People had definitely been there. He made a note of the scents. Even if they managed to get her sister back, he didn’t think Ashley would be safe. Not until they figured out who was behind all this. But where could she and her sister go? And who would watch over them? It could take weeks or even months for this plot to unravel.
He actually thought Zolla’s place was as safe as any, and he did trust the wolf.
Ashley read for a while, but as dusk came on, she grew restless, pacing about the room.
“Do you think they ever had any intention of returning Melissa?” she asked him.
He figured it was rhetorical, since he couldn’t speak. He preferred it that way, anyway.
She looked at him, a pinched look tightening her face. “I kind of don’t. They weren’t wearing any masks or anything. Which means, either they’re really stupid and they don’t care if we can identify them, or they planned to kill us both.”
He had arrived at the same conclusion, which was why he wasn’t letting Ashley out of his sight.
She paced some more. “I probably should’ve just called the police when I got the first message.”
He glared at her.
“No?” Her shoulders sagged. “I guess not. You can’t really have police poking in your business, but I’m starting to think… Well, we’re sort of outnumbered. Even if you are a wolf who doesn’t mind bullet holes. I mean, Melissa and I aren’t bulletproof.” A darker shadow crossed her face. “If Melissa’s still alive.”
He trotted over and put his muzzle against her leg in a show of protection a
nd comfort.
She rubbed his head. Sinking down on the sofa, she took his face between her hands, rubbing his ears. “I’m scared, Ben,” she whispered, unshed tears glimmering in her eyes.
He licked her hand. To hell with this. He wasn’t going to let her grow more and more frightened as they holed up here for another six hours. He trotted toward the bedroom, shifting as he walked. When he turned to shut the door, he saw Ashley craning her neck to watch him, getting an eyeful of his naked form, and damn if he didn’t still have a raging erection for her. Her mouth opened when their eyes caught, and he gave her a half-grin, watching as her eyes widened and a blush spread across her cheeks.
He shut the door and changed into his clothes. “Come on,” he said, walking briskly out and taking her hand to tug her off the sofa.
“Where are we going?”
“Out,” he said, tugging her toward the garage. “You’re sick of being cooped up here, and so am I.”
He opened her door for her. She gazed up in bewilderment.
“There’s a taco place down the street that smells good. Can you walk in those shoes?” He wished he had somehow arranged to get her a change of clothes today. The poor girl was still in her work skirt and heels and the mauve t-shirt from Shayla.
She tugged her skirt down, as if it might cover more of her long, bare legs. “Yeah, definitely. How far?”
“Only a block. I’ll carry you if you get tired.”
She licked her lips, making his cock jerk in his pants. Flushing, she looked away. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, her voice huskier than usual.
Abruptly, he found himself pushing her up against the house, his body pressing against her soft curves. He cupped the side of her face, lifting it as if he was going to kiss her. He stopped himself just in time, freezing as he realized the inappropriateness of his actions. He’d just told her he couldn’t be in a relationship with her. What the hell was he doing?
He brushed his lips across her forehead, then her temple, then her lush lips. “Ashley… I’m a whole bundle of trouble. Look where working for me has already landed you—” He stopped, wanting to backpedal. He didn’t want her to stop working for him, no matter what happened. The thought of going back to Stone Technologies without her made him feel dead. “What I’m trying to say is…” Well, what the hell was he trying to say? Being so close to her, feeling her body against his, having her scent in his nostrils made it hard to formulate any thought.
He stroked her cheek with his thumb, a sense of both longing and loss giving him a tenderness he didn’t usually find. “Ashley, it’s so complicated. And I’m just… sorry.”
She thrust her chin forward in a cute show of defiance. “What is it? Why can’t you be with me? Just tell me.”
“It’s too dangerous. You’re human and I’m… not.”
She blinked rapidly, pushing him away from her and averting her face.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, standing back and extending his arm to allow her to pass him.
* * *
They walked down the street together, side by side. She felt dizzy from having his hard body pressed against hers, the aggressive way he pinned her sending a heady rush of lust rocketing through her body. Her emotions warred between anger and acceptance. She did believe Ben was sorry, but she didn’t want his apology, she wanted him.
“Ben?”
As usual for him, he didn’t answer, but he did look over.
“Do you miss Venezuela?” she asked.
It was the wrong thing to say. His mask slid back in place, lines hardening. “No,” he said, but it seemed like a lie—she saw pain in his expression. She remembered, belatedly, that his brother and father had been killed there. If she’d heard right, it had been some kind of grotesque death—like a wild animal… Oh. A wolf, of course.
“What happened there?” she asked softly. She held her breath, not really expecting an answer.
To her surprise, he spoke. “My father’s pack had been threatened takeover by another—a drug cartel of shifters. My brother had flown in to help him fight, but…” He swallowed and didn’t go on.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “And your mother? Is she still alive?”
He shook his head. “No. She died when I was twelve of cancer. Which isn’t supposed to affect wolves,” he said bitterly.
For once, she had nothing to say. She knew he didn’t want her pity. She reached out and touched his hand. He instantly laced his fingers through hers.
“I think—” he said, then cleared his throat. “I think she just didn’t want to go on living with my dad. He was a top-notch asshole, like me.”
Her chest tightened and her nose tickled, tears rising up for him. “That’s not you. You may play that part, but I know it’s not the real you.”
He lifted his eyes, looking stunned. She met his gaze evenly, transmitting her utter confidence in her statement. As if he couldn’t take it, he literally shook it off, like a dog shakes off water.
“I mean it. Sure, you’re a dick at times—okay, most of the time, but underneath it all, you are sweet.”
“No,” he said. “I’m really not. And you’re the only person on the planet who has ever described me that way.”
“Because I know the truth,” she said, lifting her chin and daring him to contradict her.
His expression wavered for a moment and he looked uncertain or lost. Then he did the same shaking motion he’d done a few minutes before. “No, you don’t,” he said bitterly.
“What would it take for you to accept anything I offer? Do you always have to reject it?” She almost said reject me, because that was the truth of the matter.
He didn’t answer. They had reached the taco place, and he led her inside, glancing at the board. “Do you know what you want?”
It was an authentic Mexican joint, with the menu mostly in Spanish. She shrugged. “Surprise me.”
Ben ordered in Spanish and they handed him a couple of Dos Equis beers with lime wedges stuffed in the mouth. He passed one to her and they sat down at a booth.
“What did you order?”
“A carne asada burrito. Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” she said with a little laugh.
“You don’t know what that is, do you?”
She grinned sheepishly. “Some kind of burrito.”
“It’s a marinated beefsteak. I think you’ll like it.”
It was stupid, but she leaned forward and said, “Speak to me in Spanish?”
His eyebrows shot up.
She shrugged. “I like the way it sounds.”
“Como qué?”
“Keep going.”
“Si pudiera decirte la verdad, deciré que tu eres… mi todo mundo.”
His words rolled over her ears like they were spoken by Don Juan himself. “What did you say?”
He hesitated long enough for her to realize that he’d said something real for once. Something he couldn’t or wouldn’t say in English. She tried to replay the syllables in her mind to decipher their meaning, but her high school Spanish was lacking. Was it something about speaking the truth and then, you are my whole world? She clung to that thought, and placed it in her heart like a little jewel to take out and hold to the light the next time he rejected her.
Chapter Eight
They met Mark and Zolla back at Zolla’s house. Ashley headed toward the bathroom to change her clothes. He watched the shape of her ass under the red skirt as she sashayed away. God, how he ached to be inside her, to spank those lovely cheeks and fuck her from behind. Or maybe, even, to take her ass.
“You should really mark her,” Zolla said.
He frowned. “What’s it to you?”
To the omega’s credit, he didn’t cower under Ben’s narrowed gaze. “It would calm you down. You’d be able to think straight when she’s around.”
His lip curled in disbelief. He’d never heard that about mating a female. Besides, it was an impossibility. “She’s human.”
&nb
sp; “So, it just means you have to be careful. Go for the shoulder instead of the neck. Avoid major arteries. She’ll heal up all right. She looks healthy enough.”
His vision changed and a growl erupted from his throat. He didn’t like Zolla talking about the way she looked. He didn’t like him talking about her at all.
Zolla held up his hands and lifted his chin, baring his throat to show subservience. “Hey, this is what I’m talking about. Once she’s marked you won’t be so crazy to let us all know she’s yours.”
“Fuck you,” he muttered. Turning to Mark, he said, “Did you bring the vest for her?”
“Yes,” Mark said, unzipping a duffel bag. “I have several Kevlar vests here, as well as firearms, in case you want to stay in human form.”
“I don’t. It’s just Ashley I’m worried about.” He found he couldn’t drop the topic of marking Ashley, though. Turning back to Zolla, he said, “If you were me—a wolf with more than one enemy who wants him dead—would you mark a female?”
Zolla tipped his head to the side. “Maybe not, but you might be able to think your way out of this better if you weren’t so jacked up on her pheromones.”
Ashley returned, her slight figure making her seem so vulnerable, so human. His blood surged to protect her. But in this case, protecting her would be keeping her away from him.
He held a vest open for her. “I need you to wear this for the meeting,” he told her.
“Bulletproof?” she asked, looking from him to Mark.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mark answered. “But your head is still vulnerable, so keep it down if any shots are fired.”
“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Ben cut in. “You’re going to drive up there, and make the trade. Obviously I interrupted it too early last time, and I’m sorry for that,” he said.
