His She-wolf

by Amy Redwood

  He rid himself of both items, his cock heavy and taut against his stomach, and then took his time to shrug out of his shirt while she watched his movements like a cat afraid her mouse would disappear. He bent to bury his face against her breasts, hiking up her skirt until it crunched around her hips. Tasting the flushed texture of a hard nipple, he drew a soft moan from her as he sucked gently.

  When she closed her fingers around his cock, he groaned, feeling himself thicken against her palm. He wanted to thrust into her until she cried out his name. She wouldn’t of course. Still, he had to be inside her. Her fingers closed around his and guided him between her legs.

  “Touch me,” she said, guiding his hand over her folds. Slick wetness met his inquiring fingers. She was as ready for him as he was for her, but he wanted to draw out the pleasure.

  He dropped to his knees, taking in the scent of her arousal. When he touched his tongue to her center, she tunneled her fingers through his hair. He again licked over her swollen clit, hearing her moan her longing. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. He cupped her ass in both hands, kneading her flesh and tilting her hips toward him. She would be a tight fit around his cock, he remembered only too well, and he groaned thinking how he would soon be thrusting into her. But first, he kissed her, down there, plunging his tongue deep between her swollen lips. Swearing softly, she dug her fingers into his shoulder muscles. He welcomed the pain, welcomed any proof she was enjoying herself as much as he was.

  He paused, hearing the clicking steps from a high-heeled woman walking past the apartment door. Candace relaxed her grip on his shoulders, but her muscles flexed as if she made herself ready to flee.

  He feared he’d hear a key in the lock, but the steps faded into the distance and were gone a second later.

  Relieved, he drew in a deep breath. What the fuck was he doing? He was buck naked. If the woman had come into the apartment they wouldn’t have had enough time to dress and leave through the window. His gaze found his clothes, the gun somewhere in the pile, the small book in the inside pocket of his jacket. Still, he couldn’t turn away from her heat. He kissed her inner thigh, her skin soft and smooth and quivering under his tongue. Taking his time wasn’t an option anymore.

  Kissing his way up over her stomach and the dip between her breasts, he rose. Holding her heated gaze, he knew better than to kiss her again. Instead, he grasped her hips and lifted her, his cock sliding between her legs, coating him with her wet juices. She snugged her legs around his waist, a whoosh of breath coming from her mouth as he slammed her hard against the wall. She moaned, and for a moment, he feared he’d hurt her, feared he was too rough with her after all.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, seeing tears in the corners of her eyes. “Should I stop?” His breath stopped at the idea he’d hurt this wild creature.

  Candace gave a sob, causing him more alarm. Her fingernails dug into his back, and she tipped her head against the wall, meeting his gaze. Then she moved her hips, rubbing her folds and clit along his cock. It was almost enough to make him explode. Groaning, he tilted her hips toward him, the head of his cock prodding at her wet entrance.

  He slid into her with one long, hard thrust, filling her to the hilt with his cock. He already knew how well they fit. He slowly pumped inside her, her cunt tightly clamped around his shaft. Short, gasping moans tore from her throat, and he circled her mouth with his finger, wishing she’d allow him to kiss her. When she took his finger into the warmth of her mouth, sucking, he felt his balls tighten. He studied her face—the lust in her dark half-lidded eyes, the way she sucked in her bottom lip, her blushed cheeks. All mine, he thought, and fucked her harder, knowing he was about to come deep in her eager pussy.

  He slid his hand between their bodies, finding the swollen bud of her clit. Pressing, rubbing her there, he pumped into her wet heat, his cock aching for release. Her head tipped back, a small thud against the wall.

  “Harder please,” she whispered, bucking her hips against him to emphasize her demand. “God, Seth, please.”

  The emotion in her voice sent a shiver through him, his self-control slipping. Wrapping his hand in her hair, he pulled her close. Without giving her a choice, he plunged his tongue inside her mouth, taking her breath, swallowing her surprised cry. Then her hand was around his neck, her mouth hot on his, her kiss hungry and hard. Her body trembled under his hands as he slammed into her, nailing her against the wall, fucking her in rough strokes that made him gasp for breath as her cunt convulsed around his cock as she came. With a shout, he thrust deep into her, burying his shaft in her to the hilt, coming in hot spurts inside her, feeling how her muscles milked his cock.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder, her breathing slowly calming. He slid out of her tight hold when she lowered her feet to the floor. “Candy,” he began, but she twisted from his grasp, shaking her head. His heart grew heavy just looking at her slender back, the fast movements with which she put her clothes on. Why she’d worn a mortified expression before she turned her back, he couldn’t comprehend.

  Giving her some space, he went to use the bathroom. Probably contrary to her belief, he wasn’t interested in the physical only. The wildness inside her resonated with him, stronger than he would have ever imagined. She was like him, only better. A thought that would have made him nuts if she were a guy. But she was all female, soft, lush, wet, yet she possessed a primal strength. He’d wanted her before, but now he was falling hard and fast.

  He walked back to her, intended to figure out a way to gain her trust.

  She stood at the windowsill, one leg perched on top of it. She wore his jacket. Instinct made him growl, a sound that made men flinch. She merely raised her eyebrow. The sight of her calm smile sent his heart jumping into his throat and, a split-second later, hot anger hit his gut. The book was inside his jacket, which she undoubtedly knew.

  “I’m sorry, Seth.” She pointed his fricking gun at his heart. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Feeling like shit, I said, “I can’t let you destroy my future.” I’d had sex with him for the sake of it. I hadn’t needed it as such. I might have managed my shakes without an orgasm. Maybe. But now I was calm, eerily calm. I’d needed him the first time around, but the second had been wrong. I’d just wanted so bad, wanted him with every fiber of my body. The thought was like a punch to my heart. I’d sworn on Tim’s grave I would never want a man like that again in my entire life.

  “You’re in the process of destroying it,” he said, and stretched out his arm. “Lower the gun and—”

  “You’re not telling me what to do.” I had to get away from him. “Don’t follow me or I’ll shoot.” My hand hurt from holding the gun so tightly. I tried to relax my fingers and climbed over the windowpane, my foot finding a hold on the fire escape landing. I held the gun trained toward his direction as I pulled my other leg over the windowsill. He didn’t move but rage pooled deep in his eyes. His powerfully built body stood at full attention, every muscle flexed. He looked like a runner prepared to sprint at the sound of the starting gun. Once I turned my back on him, I would need to be fast.

  I lowered my feet onto the landing, taking in a deep breath, making myself ready to turn and jump and run.

  A hand clamped with an iron-vise grip around my neck, lifting me to my toes.

  “Look what I’ve found,” a malicious voice whispered against my ear. “You, bitch, were easy to track.” Something, someone, sniffed at my neck like a bloodhound.

  I inhaled a whiff of stale breath, grimacing as fingers dug deep into my skin. Reflexively, I curled my hands into a fist. The gun went off in the softest of sounds, which nevertheless rang like a bell in my mind. A scream shot from my throat as someone pulled me against a hard-muscled chest, and then my world went upside down.

  Colors rushed past my eyes. I hit solid ground. Air went from my lungs in a hard gasp. Something inside me cracked, a bone maybe. It didn’t hurt. I tried to lift my head but couldn’t. Licking my dry lip,
I groaned. Fuck. It did hurt. I stared up into the night sky. Sounds of glass shattering. Doves took flight from the roof, frantically beating their wings.

  The guy had thrown me off the fire escape. I’d planned to jump down. Planned to land neatly on my feet and hit the ground running.

  “Still alive, bitch?”

  Pain bloomed behind my eyelids as a kick aimed at my chest reached its goal. I sucked in my breath. Another bone snapped. Ah, definitely my ribs. I kept my eyes closed, training my senses on the movements of my attacker. He shuffled around me but didn’t kick me again. Probably thought me half-dead anyway and not worth his attention. Judging from his gravelly voice, he wasn’t the one who had thrown me off the building. Two guys, I thought, and I was flat on my back. All in all, I was a complete failure. I curled my hands, wondering where the gun had landed. With my luck, nowhere near me.

  Swallowing hurt. And so did the realization that Seth was in shit-deep trouble. Probably because of me. Curling into a ball, I came up on my knees and then lifted my head. My gaze settled on the broad back of the guy who’d kicked me. He didn’t notice me standing; his gaze was trained upward and to the fighting sounds inside the building. Harsh groans echoed through the night air.

  Panic gripped my gut as I recognized Seth’s voice. It sounded as if someone was beating him to a pulp. I straightened, my rib cage aching. A soft sigh of pain escaped me and I clutched my stomach.

  Rough laughter made me snap up my head. “Ah, we’ve got ourselves a fighter.”

  “DEA, my ass,” I said quietly, trying to remain calm.

  I’d feared Brickwall when he’d stood in my shop asking for Seth. Now, with his cold, dark eyes fixed on my face, with no way to hide, my body and mind willed me to shift and go for the throat.

  Only I mustn’t.

  I didn’t know how many nameless faces were pressed against windowglass, watching the scene while hopefully speed dialing for the police. I mustn’t shift while someone was watching. I’m human, I’m human… I told myself over and over until I heard Tim’s soothing voice in my mind. You’re a woman, honey, a human, don’t give in to it, don’t allow the beast to come out.

  I drew in a deep breath and lunged forward, aiming an upward blow against the guy’s throat.

  His feet hit my stomach in a kick to prevent my fist from reaching its goal. I landed on my ass, a few feet away, gravel digging into the palms of my hands. I licked my lip, tasting the metallic taste of blood. Bastard.

  “Run home, honey, you have no business in this,” Brickwall said, but there was a hard line around his mouth and his eyes held a sadistic gleam.

  “No, I don’t,” I replied.

  He grinned, showing white teeth, and came toward me. Another kick and he hit my jaw. Stars erupted behind my closed lids. The guy moved so fricking fast, I couldn’t expect his next move.

  “Come on, get up, bitch,” he said above my head. His boot caught me in the stomach. I flexed my muscles to prevent the worst, but it still hurt.

  Run home.

  Exactly what I’d planned to do just a few moments ago. I wondered how long it would take the two guys to pay me a visit. Not the point, Candace.

  I hadn’t sunk so low as to tuck my tail between my legs and run.

  They would kill Seth. I knew that and it didn’t matter if he’d been right or wrong, didn’t matter if he was a thief or thug or something else.

  I came up on my knees, hearing Brickwall’s laughter, and brushed away a strand of hair clinging to my split lip. He aimed his fist at my face. Blocking his punch, I threw up my knee and hit him in the groin. The guy’s grunt swished over my face in a harsh exhalation. Then something hit me with the force of a battering ram.

  My shoulders and head slammed into a wall, the impact driving all the air from my lungs.

  “Cunt,” Brickwall muttered.

  A ripple ran down my back, raising all the hairs on my body. Shift, my mind whispered. Go for the throat. I adjusted my stance, rapidly breathing in fresh oxygen, ready to block his next punch. I didn’t know how much longer I could fend him off. He was freakishly strong. Seeking his gaze to anticipate his next move, I took a step forward in surprise. He had seemingly lost interest in me. His gaze was drawn to something on the ground. Following his gaze, a thin wail escaped my lips.

  I propelled myself from the wall.

  He lunged forward.

  Cold under my fingertips, I grabbed the gun first. Two-hundred pounds crashed into me with deadly force. Twisting away, I came up, lying on the ground. He loomed over me, knee shoved into my rib cage, one hand closed around my throat, the other around my wrist holding the gun. I felt my eyes bulge, darkness invading my sight as he choked the life out of me.

  I closed my eyes, focusing all my power in a single move. I threw up my arm, breaking his hold, and pulled the trigger.

  He didn’t die easily. Or silently. Clutching the wound in his chest, he toppled over, gurgling as he tried to breathe. Shock made his eyes wide, but only blood foamed from his lips as he tried to speak.

  I turned my back on him. Blood scented the air. A strange sound rang through the air. A howling and clucking animal noise that sounded very much like insane laughter.

  The sound had come from overhead. Goose bumps erupted all over my body. Seth fought his own battle and, if I wasn’t mistaken, he no longer fought against a man. Stepping into the shadow of a dark corner, I shrugged out of the jacket, retrieved the book. I couldn’t take my human body any longer. It hurt, body and soul.

  I stripped naked, the taste of the blood on my lips, and folded my clothes into a neat pile on the ground, hid the book underneath it.

  Letting the tight reins of my control slip, I gave up. As my bones shifted and my skin wavered as if molten, I threw back my head. My own howl rang strange in my ears. My bones mended and pain disappeared, leaving nothing but the most blissful feeling. Fear made way for confidence. I’d almost forgotten how good it felt.

  Climbing and jumping up the fire escape ladder, I hoped that Seth was still alive.

  Chapter Eight

  Seth circled his attacker, spine throbbing from the fall through the dingy coffee table.

  “Where’s the book?” the guy asked him quietly. “That’s all I want.”

  Seth needed to focus on his opponent, look for a weakness to pounce on. Undoubtedly, the guy did the same. As if his lack of clothing wasn’t enough, Seth thought. But at least he had a weapon. He closed his fingers harder around the splintered table leg, wishing he could shove it into his attacker’s face.

  “You shouldn’t have killed the woman,” Seth said, grabbing the wooden table leg harder.

  The other man regarded him coolly, his body askew.

  Seth wondered if he had managed to dislocate the man’s shoulder. He kicked a toppled lamp out of his way, careful where he placed his bare feet. Window glass littered the floor. The fight should have been a short one.

  The coffee table—glass top, wooden legs—had given way when he smashed through it. Instead of giving in to the white-hot pain, he hurled himself at Candace’s killer. Gripping the splintered table leg, he rammed his attacker a few feet backward and through the window onto the fire escape.

  That was where his advantage ended.

  The guy bled from a wound under his right eye and a glass splinter the size of his palm stuck in his right thigh. And he didn’t seem to care.

  It’s all in the eyes, Seth thought, trying to read his opponent. It was like trying to read a marble statue. Glass crunched under his bare soles. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. His own right eye was almost completely swollen shot. And he knew with dead certainty he would lose this fight.

  Still, his attacker circled him, a wary expression on his face. Guess he hadn’t figured out Seth wasn’t holding back, that he wasn’t saving some strange secret weapon. Ah well, maybe one last trick.

  Seth let his head and shoulders slump and the pain he felt show on his face. It was easy. Candace was dead, tossed fro
m the apartment like a rag doll. The image of her lying dead on the ground, dead because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time, dead because he had run into her shop and asked for help, would haunt him forever. All his fault. His heart hurt as if a thousand glass splinters were stuck inside.

  If he couldn’t kill the guy outright, he wanted to cause as much damage as possible before he went down.

  A shift in the air was all the warning he needed. The guy charged at him, sensing a weakness. Seth went for the throat, bringing up the ragged edges of the splintered table leg.

  A blow hit his face. Losing balance, Seth grasped for a hold, but his hands found only air. His shoulder crashed into the floor. Rolling into a crouch, he looked up to anticipate the guy’s next kick.

  It never came.

  The guy clutched at his throat, and for the first time, pain blossomed over his face, blood coated his fingers from the broken table leg. When he crashed to the floor, Seth felt a flicker of relief. Edging along the wall, he made his way to the broken window, keeping his gaze on his wounded attacker.

  The fight was over.

  The guy looked up, his eyes deepening to black.

  Seth froze, watched how the guy threw back his head, revealing his torn-open throat, howling in laughter as skin peeled away from his hands, arms, face. Pink and purple cords of muscles became visible; eyes sank back into the head. The harsh sound of fabric being ripped and a stench of urine filled the room.

  Seth remembered vaguely that his brother had told him that shifting was his most vulnerable time, a good time to kill shifters. If he had a gun, maybe, but he wasn’t able to put his hands on something like that. Seth stared at the half-shifted creature crouching on the floor, skin and bones changing and shimmering like a blur before his eyes.