Annoyed at the internal tug-o’-war, he jerked at his hair. “Stop it, damn you. You’re wrong. She’s not our mate!”
“I know the one that is mine. Claim her now.”
“Fuck you!”
The beast raged inside him, drove images in his head of Michael and Chrissie in each other’s arms. Even her scent permeated his nostrils, and the sound of her cries of pleasure made him grit his teeth to keep from changing into his wolf form to hunt her.
“How long will this go on?”
“Until you bite her. We don’t just desire her, Michael. We need her.”
Defeated, Michael trudged on. Maybe a night with Willie, or several, would drown out the voice of his inner beast, and his pathetic life would go back to normal. He could only hope so because it had not been that great before meeting Chrissie.
* * * *
Michael leaned against a pole with his arms folded over his chest. He had been coming to this particular spot for the last month to watch the café on the opposite side of the street. With citizens of Somana Two strolling past him and aircars whizzing down the street, sometimes obscuring his view, he never took his eyes off the wide front window of the building. The entire place from top to bottom had been coated in a deep forest green, at odds with its shades of gray environment. Even the window was not regulation in its size, which made Michael marvel that Willie kept her word about staying away from Chrissie. He had come here the first time, worried about Chrissie’s safety since Michael had been unable to perform with Willie all this time.
The fact that he couldn’t make his body cooperate brought him endless hours of shame. For all he knew, no werewolf in history had ever suffered this way. His wolf told him it was because of finding his mate and not claiming her, but Michael refused to believe it. Either way, he’d needed to be sure that since he couldn’t satisfy Willie, she hadn’t gone back on her word. So he had tracked Chrissie by her scent. That weird magic that kept him from finding her at first never resurfaced, and he dismissed it as a fluke.
“Go to her. You know you want to.”
He ignored the beast and continued to stand there, watching her through the window. She smiled often and flipped a lock of hair from her eyes, a move that made him remember how silky it felt when he ran his fingers through it. She’d cut it, he noted with a frown. He didn’t like it just past her ears, but he had no say in the matter.
With longing growing inside him, he allowed his gaze to trail her as she moved about the café, refreshing coffee here, setting a sandwich on a table there. Michael tamped down jealousy more than once when she bent closer to hear something a male customer said to her and at the same time exposing more of that luscious cleavage. Her penchant for dressing to make a man hungry to take her hadn’t changed.
And the man she worked with, who was he? Did they have a sexual relationship, Michael wondered. Whether they did or didn’t wasn’t his business. He should leave and never come back. Instead, he found his foot stepping down into the street without him making the conscious command to move.
While he walked disregarding his safety, aircars blasted horns and swerved to avoid hitting him. A traffic droid whirred up to hover in front of him. “Violation. Crossing not allowed here,” said the mechanical-toned bot.
Michael spared it a glance. “Get lost before I crush you.”
These bots were simplistic in design, knowing nothing more than a few directives, all regarding the smooth flow of traffic. However, Michael wondered if it had learned self-preservation at some point. The proper procedure was for the bot to issue him a fine on the spot, but after his threat, it stopped speaking, studied him, and then turned to zoom back to its position at the crosswalk.
Michael shifted his focus from the droid back to the café and continued across the street. Without hesitation since he had come this far, he stepped up to the door and swung it wide. He paused in the entrance and took a second to survey the interior, when his gaze came to a stop on Chrissie. His heart pounded in his chest until it ached, and his cock was solid in an instant. The beast must have been right.
She looked up from her customer with a ready smile, but it froze in place upon her seeing him. Shock and fear passed over her lovely face before she pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. However, she didn’t move from the spot where she stood, nor did she greet him.
Michael reminded himself of what she had done, how she betrayed him—these reminders helped to combat his desire to rush across the room and take her into his arms. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. Maybe he should have left well enough alone, but now that he had come this far, Chrissie would give him answers. She would explain to him how the hell she could be so damned happy and content in this place. He could not define happiness, let alone feel it. Tonight, he would settle things once and for all with the beast that this woman—this human—was not the one.
Chapter Ten
Chrissie wanted to sink to the floor or to run to the back and hide until he was gone, but she was made of sterner stuff than that. She’d expected him sooner than now. She’d expected him to fight for her, to show some kind of interest, but he had let her go, and to her disgust, that had hurt more than she liked to admit.
Now he showed up a month later, walking in like he owned the place. Angry that the sight of him had snatched away all the strength she thought was a part of her, she forced herself to turn away and head behind the counter. She grabbed up a cloth and began wiping down the already clean space in front of her to keep her hands busy. Through her lashes, she watched him saunter over and take a seat on a stool. Chrissie ignored him.
Kal came up and rested a hand on her shoulder. He leaned in close, his voice low, but casual. “Got someone for one of your specials, Chrissie.”
Both of them heard the growl, but Chrissie pretended not to notice. Kal blinked and spun in Michael’s direction. To avoid questions and a scene, she wiggled her shoulders, dislodging Kal’s hand and shoved him toward the back. “You put it together, and I’ll deliver it.”
Kal hesitated, still looking at Michael with suspicion in his eyes.
“Kal,” Chrissie snapped.
He nodded and went to do her bidding. The special he referred to was a sandwich with real meat. Just like Chrissie had planned, she smuggled in meat for special customers who could be discreet and who could pay the big curans for it. She had a good, steady flow of regular customers and a handful of the special ones. Her café was a success, and she couldn’t be happier. At least, that’s what she told herself each day until she returned to her apartment above the café and found that all she could do was pine for the bastard now sitting at her counter.
“Are you going to ignore me all night, Chrissie,” he asked.
She glared at him. “What are you doing here, Michael? I thought we were through. I like it that way.”
“Liar,” he ground out. “Why are you trembling? Or are you afraid of me?”
“I’m not, and why would I be?”
He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and tugged her closer. Chrissie stumbled, catching herself before she bumped the counter. “Get your hands off me.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Hey, Chrissie, you need some help over there?” one of the men who came each day just to flirt with her said. If Chrissie gave him the slightest encouragement, the man would have asked her out, but she wasn’t interested. No, her stupid heart pounded with need for this fool.
“I’m okay,” she called back, not removing her focus from Michael. “I don’t want you here, Michael. I’m working, and you’re interrupting. So, if you’re not going to order, I suggest you leave.”
He changed tactics, and instead of holding her captive, he began to run his fingers over the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. She closed her eyes to steel herself against the sensations that began to bombard her.
“Stop,” she pleaded.
“I want you.”
She almost moaned but bit it off. In desperation, she blurted
out, “I’m seeing Kal. We’re serious. I won’t cheat on him like you’re trying to cheat on Willie.” Of course, it wasn’t true. Chrissie couldn’t have gotten her desires to flow in the direction of another man if she stripped naked and jumped the other guy. When her fingers found her bud at night, her mind was overtaken with images of Michael. His name fell from her lips as she came, time and again, no matter how hard she tried to stop it. She had thought if she could replace him with another lover, he might fade from her memories, but the idea of another man touching her was revolting. All this time, she’d been in limbo, smiling on the outside but miserable in her heart.
At her words, Michael shrugged. “I have no qualms about killing him.”
“You’re not serious!”
He didn’t retract his words. Instead, he changed the subject. “You and I need to talk. Is there somewhere private we can go?”
She tugged her hand free of his and picked up the cloth again. “I have nothing to say to you. If you’re not ordering, excuse me while I attend to other customers.” With that, she spun away and was surprised that Michael let her go. After taking the orders of several people, she chanced a glance toward where Michael was and found that he had moved to a booth. His gaze never left her.
When Kal came back with the special order, Chrissie snatched it from his hands. She needed to get out of there. “Look after things while I deliver this, Kal. Which one is it?”
He blinked at her and then peered at Michael. “Chrissie . . .”
“Don’t,” she muttered.
He sighed. “Okay, but remember I’m not just some imitation-burger flipper. I can help you. You just say the word.”
Chrissie chuckled. Kal was one of the two men left alive with whom she had done her thieving. She knew him well enough to know he would do what he offered. He had been the muscle when needed to rough up those who required it, for added protection when Joey wasn’t around. Kal with his scarred face from too many bar fights had surprised her when he agreed to quit the business and work in the café with her.
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind, Kal. Which customer?”
“Forty-eight,” he said, referring to the numbering system she had set up to identify her special customers rather than speaking their names.
“Thanks. I’ll see you later.” She hurried out the door. Whatever craziness made her think Michael wouldn’t follow dissipated when he fell into step beside her. She rolled her eyes. “I told you to leave me alone.”
“And I said we need to talk.”
“You don’t want to talk, Michael. You want sex, and I’m not in the market for a new lover. Thanks for the offer.”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “I wasn’t offering.”
His affirmation failed when his gaze shifted down to her breasts. Chrissie bit off a frustrated grunt when her nipples pebbled. The man should not have such command over her body. He didn’t deserve it.
“Good, because I’m no longer attracted to you,” she said, hoping he believed her.
Michael grinned as he tapped his nose. “It never lies.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
In answer, he pulled her to a stop and leaned over to run his tongue along the curve of her ear. Instant wetness pooled between Chrissie’s legs, and her already taut tips began to ache. She hated his guts, she decided.
“I can smell your desire,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s so heady I could come just breathing it in. You want me just as much, and nothing you say can convince me otherwise.”
Chrissie fought him. “You don’t deserve me.”
His eyes widened. “I don’t? You’ve got a lot of nerve, woman, because it’s you who don’t deserve one of my kind.”
She shrieked. “See? That’s what I mean, all that damn arrogance. You didn’t come after me because you expected me to chase you like Willie. She runs behind you, pleading with you to give her just one more night in bed. Well, you can forget about me doing that, buddy. I don’t need you. I admit I’m attracted to you, but I choose my lovers, and you can believe they don’t consider themselves too good for me. All you northsiders are just alike, human or werewolf. Get lost!”
She tried to continue walking, but Michael grabbed her arm and crushed her to him. Chrissie fought against his hold, but it was a battle she was destined to lose. She clutched his biceps and, trying to dislodge them, felt them flex, thickening and hardening under her touch. Even while she wanted to get away from him, she had to admire his build. She enjoyed running her hands over men with bodies cut to perfection, but Michael made them all look like imitations of the real thing.
To cover the pounding of her heart and the want churning in her belly, she glared at him with tight lips, pretending his nearness did nothing but disgust her. However, when she looked up to convince him of her dislike of him, it was to find his mouth descending on hers. All Chrissie’s fight fled, and her mouth dropped open on a half moan, half sigh. No, don’t let this happen. Kick him, anything!
His kiss was featherlight. He teased her bottom lip, pulled it between his, and sucked until she couldn’t hold off a response any longer. In a reflexive motion, she squeezed his arms, thrilling in the unyielding steel, and stood on her tiptoes to deepen their kiss. Michael left her bottom lip to cover her entire mouth. His tongue penetrated her mouth to stroke hers and wrench the longing whine from her throat. He answered with a small growl then lifted her from her feet.
Someone nearby uttered the age-old “get a room,” but Chrissie didn’t want Michael to stop long enough for that. She wanted the kiss to go on, to light her body ablaze, and quench the annoying craving for him that had not let her alone for the last thirty days. Forgetting where she was or not giving a rip, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and her lover maneuvered his palms down to her ass. He scooped her tighter, almost making her cry out at the feel of his growing cock.
After a few moments, she realized they were moving, and she drew away with reluctance from his kiss. The fact that they were at the back of her café about to ascend the stairs to her apartment caught her off guard. Chrissie wiggled to get down from Michael’s arms, surprised that he let her go.
“How did you know where I live and about the back entrance?”
He shrugged with no obvious intention of telling her. Chrissie wondered just how long he had known, and the anger at his not coming sooner resurfaced, but before she could tell him to get lost a second time, he started up the steps.
“I have a delivery to make,” she shouted.
“We need to finish what we started, and we need to talk. Remember?”
He reached her door and tried the knob. She’d locked it. One couldn’t be too careful in this area, a business zone, near the old docks, but just as unsafe as her old neighborhood.
“Michael!”
He rattled the doorknob like he was testing its give under his strength. Frustrated, angry, and no less horny, she stomped up the steps and let them both in. As she walked ahead of him, she bent to pick up stray clothes tossed here and there, kicked a shoe, and balled up trash to deposit in the receptacle in her kitchen. She was no homemaker, that was for sure. The space was micro-small, but it was hers, and that’s all that mattered.
Michael’s bulk filling the apartment made it seem tinier. Although Chrissie stood several feet away from him, he appeared to tower above her, his hands inches from her. And her stupid body responded like she was his slave, a truth he must be well aware of from the knowing glint in his eyes. She ached to tell him she didn’t want him and have it be true.
“Come here, Chrissie.”
“Go to hell.”
“I won’t repeat myself.”
“And you won’t get me following your orders either.” She crossed her arms, intending to turn her back on him, but she had pressed herself close to a table and bumped her hip on it. The turn had been a half one, so he was still in full view at her right side.
Michael stretched his arms over his head, and the next thing she
knew he had removed his shirt. She gripped the edge of the table. He kicked his feet free of his shoes and then unbuttoned his pants. A striptease? A man was doing a striptease for her? She’d never experienced anything like that, and yet, damn it all to hell, it was working.
Chrissie turned to face him, holding onto the table with both hands now. Her eyes widened, and she locked onto his svelte body, followed the pants to the floor only to zip back up to will his boxers to do the same. “You have no right,” she squeaked.
He had been looking down as if oblivious to her being in the room, but his gray gaze snapped up to meet hers and mesmerized her until she was sure she wouldn’t be able to move if she tried. Was this their power? Were they like vampires, able to take control of a person with a look? No, she decided, this was just about her and Michael, about their unexplainable attraction to one another. He crooked a finger in her direction, indicating that she should come to him. She took two steps, intent to get her hands on him if not to obey, but then she forced herself to halt. Chrissie was no man’s slave.
Two could play the game. She could argue all night that she had to get back to work and tell herself that Michael didn’t deserve to have sex with her, but like she had a beast of her own inside, she wasn’t going to be denied tonight. A fleeting thought passed through her mind about where her customer’s sandwich had gotten to, but Chrissie dismissed it to loosen the ties of her apron. When that garment hit the floor, she started on the buttons of her blouse. The silky sides had scarcely parted to reveal her black lace bra beneath before Michael’s nostrils flared, and he grunted. His cock twitched in reaction to the pale swell of her breasts. One couldn’t get a tan living on Somana Two, but she was pretty sure she looked good enough for him. He almost drooled.
She wiggled free from her pants, and before she could step out of them, Michael was on her. He grasped her hips, lifted her up off her feet, and yanked her clothing the rest of the way off. She protested his roughness, but he ignored her.
“You dare tease me like that?” he complained. “You have no idea of what you’re dealing with. My need is greater than what you can imagine. You cannot push me too far and be safe.”
Werewolf on Somana Two: Michael Page 8
