Her mind whirled as white-hot heat began to build in her core. The ridge of his cock was pressed up right against her clit, and the sensation was mind numbing. She moved her hips faster, increasing the pressure. So close … almost …
A sudden high-pitched scream from outside made them pull apart. Connor let go of her leg and took a step back, his breathing ragged.
“Connor!” The cries were muffled through the door, but it was obviously Janelle.
They looked at each other, and Connor let out a curse. “I have to go.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I need to get through the door.”
“Right.” She quickly stepped aside and then gestured to the door, a move that made her feel like an idiot afterwards.
As Connor reached for the door handle, he looked at her. “I didn’t—”
“Just go,” she said in a flat voice. “Go do your job.”
He let out an angry huff and nodded, then left her alone in the empty dressing room.
“Holy shit.” Evie stared at the door. For moment, she wasn’t sure what happened a split second ago really did happen and she felt like someone had dumped an entire bucket of ice water over her. But then, looking at her disheveled state—hair tugged out of her ponytail, bra over her boobs, and the definite damp state of her panties—she knew it really did happen. Connor kissed her and more. If they hadn’t been interrupted, who knows how far it would have gone.
The hubbub outside the dressing room snapped her out of her thoughts. She straightened her clothes and yanked open the door. As she walked toward Janelle’s dressing room, there were more and more people gathering in the hallway, whispering and pointing.
Aiden James strode out of the dressing room, a large, long white box in hand. His face was drawn into a serious expression. He didn’t say anything to Evie as they passed each other, only giving her a curt nod. The box he was holding didn’t have a top so she couldn’t help but glance inside. She stifled a gasp when she saw dead roses and the bloodied head of a rat inside.
This was serious. Who was trying to hurt Janelle? The production company obviously thought it was enough of a threat to hire Creed. If word got around, then it could shut down the show.
Evie paused and looked inside Janelle’s dressing room. She felt ice spread through her stomach at what she saw. Connor’s back was to her, but the arms wound around his waist were definitely Janelle’s, as were the incontrollable sobs coming from behind him.
She paused but then pushed the feeling of jealousy deep down inside her. What happened between them was a fluke. Plus, she swore to herself a long time ago she would never get involved with a Lycan. And, besides, someone really was after Janelle. Although she hated how the other woman’s body was pressed up against Connor, she really didn’t wish any harm to Janelle. Swallowing all her emotions, she walked away, her fists clenched at her sides.
***
Aside from double checking all the exits and entrances, tracking down and grilling the messenger, and reviewing the security tapes, there was not much else they could do, according to Aiden. He gave Evie the rundown of what had happened when she sought him out. Apparently, someone had snuck into the theater and left the package inside Janelle’s dressing room. Not all of the security cameras at the theater were activated yet, and whoever came in had carefully avoided the ones that were working.
Annie, Jane, and Steven gathered the cast and crew to give them a pep talk. The show must go on, after all, and they continued rehearsals as usual. Of course, their star was too distraught to go on and had to be chauffeured back to her hotel suite to recover, as she was so traumatized from her ordeal.
After they wrapped for the day, Evie grabbed her stuff from the dressing room and waved goodbye to her cast mates. As she jogged toward the backstage exit, she stopped when she heard Connor’s voice in one of the offices. The door was ajar, and she couldn’t help but peek inside. He was avoiding her, she knew it. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since that kiss in the dressing room.
“You know I hardly ever ask you for a favor, Quinn,” he said into his phone. “But I got stuff to do.” He paused and his massive shoulders relaxed “Thank you. I’ll come by the office and pick up Jolene.”
Jolene? For a second, Evie thought he was going out with some girl, but she remembered that’s what he called his truck.
“None of your business,” Connor continued. “Yeah yeah, I owe you one. But don’t tell anyone about this, ya hear?”
Evie scrambled away from the door and pivoted back to the exit. Really, she should ignore what she overheard. But she couldn’t stop the curiosity from prickling at her. It was a niggling feeling that wouldn’t go away. As she walked farther away from the theater, her heart began to pound and her gut started telling her something was wrong.
About two blocks away, as she stood on the corner of 44th and 7th Avenue, she stopped and fished her phone from her purse. Scrolling through her contacts, she dialed her former roommate’s number. “Hello Selena? Yeah, it’s me. I have a favor to ask …”
Chapter Seven
The address Connor typed into his GPS brought him to a nondescript strip mall in the middle of central New Jersey. At first, he thought Quinn had made a mistake, but he should have had more faith in his brother. When he saw the sign for “Wolfman Gym,” alarm bells went off in his head. Goddamn indiscrete bastard. But, then again, his former trainer had always been a showoff.
It should be closing time, but the lights inside the gym were on and there were still people lingering inside. Not that it mattered. He had waited years for this moment, and he could wait another few minutes if necessary.
But the wait was probably going to kill him, unless he could stop thinking about Evie and her delicious little body and velvety soft lips.
What happened today at the theater couldn’t happen again. Seeing that asshole Aiden touch her had sent him over the edge. He wanted to cut his fucking fingers off or, maybe, even let the feral wolf loose on the human. He should have walked away, but his need to mark her as his was too great.
It was still so fresh in his mind—the press of her soft curves and that lush mouth. The memories of her smell mixed with her arousal threatened to overwhelm him, even now. If they hadn’t been interrupted, he could have taken her right there, not giving a fuck who might have walked in.
His fingers gripped the wheel of his truck so tight his knuckles went white. When were these goddamn people going to leave?
The lights inside the gym turned off and, as soon as the last figure stepped out of the doors, the feral wolf stood at attention. Even from a distance, he recognized Booth’s hulking frame. His red hair had turned gray. It had been more than fifteen years after all. As Booth turned his back to lock the door, Connor slid out of his truck.
Connor pushed back the memories that threatened to come to the surface. Fists and bloody noses. Being dunked in tanks of cold water as punishment. Cuts and bruises. The training at The Facility had been tough, but it produced the best fighters, all thanks to its sadistic trainer, David Booth. He didn’t care that he was training young boys; he treated them like men. No, he treated them like animals. Connor supposed he should thank Booth for turning him into the fighter he was today. He let out a huff. Thank him for turning him into an animal? Maybe not.
He strode toward Booth with deliberate steps, his posture straight and shoulders squared. Anger, hate, disgust swirled inside him, but he relished the feeling. As his inner wolf made its presence known, he kept a tighter rein on it. He wanted to look into Booth’s eyes first, before he let the wolf loose to claim its revenge.
As he drew nearer, Booth’s stench—a mix of musk, cloves, and alcohol—filled his nostrils. “David Booth,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
The man turned around. He had the same square jaw, military haircut, and severe expression, though the years had added wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. “Yes?” Gray eyes like steel bore into Connor, and Booth’s nostrils flared. Recognit
ion flashed on his face. “You.”
“Yes.”
Booth let out a grunt. “You’ve grown, boy.”
“Yes. And I’m not a boy. Not anymore.”
“You’ll always be that boy whose wolf was too scared to come out,” Booth sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. The veins on his massive neck bulged. “But we sure took care of that, didn’t we?” He bared his teeth as he smiled. “Well, I know this isn’t some happy reunion. Do you want to do this here or in the alley in the back?” His eyes began to glow in the darkness.
Connor knew Booth wouldn’t be an easy target like his former handler. Boyd had practically soiled himself when he got on his knees to beg for his life. “Let’s go to the back.”
Booth led him behind the gym. The alley smelled like a mix of garbage and motor oil, and there was a single light overhead. He turned around to face Connor. “You think you’re the first to challenge me like this? To want revenge?”
“No, but I’ll be the last.” Connor cracked his knuckles.
Booth let out a sardonic laugh. “We’ll see about that. You’re good, boy, but remember who taught you.”
Before he could react, Booth lunged at him. Connor had been overconfident, and he underestimated Booth’s speed and strength, not to mention his penchant for playing dirty. They rolled on the ground, each fighting to get on top with his fists.
But Booth probably thought Connor was still that skinny kid he had trained long ago. Connor had learned more tricks since then. He leveraged his weight and threw Booth off him, sending him crashing to the brick wall.
Connor quickly got to his feet and launched himself at Booth, knocking his head back into the wall so hard his eyes rolled back. He smashed a fist into Booth’s face; the sound of breaking bones echoed in his ears.
“Is that your best, boy?” Booth said with a grin, even as blood poured from his nostrils. “Are you going to let that monster inside you come out to play now?”
The feral wolf seemed to have heard him, and Connor felt him rising to the surface. His eyes glowed, and he felt the change coming.
Booth growled. “About fucking time.” Muscles moved under his skin and brown fur sprouted on his skin as his face started to elongate.
Connor roared and stepped back as the wolf began to take over. The edges of his vision darkened as he felt the control slipping from his fingers. He felt like he was growing smaller, as if the wolf was tucking him away in that dark place where he couldn’t see what was happening.
“No! Connor, don’t!”
The voice knocked the wind out of him and tugged him back into his body. He looked up to the direction of the voice and blinked. “Quinn?”
His brother was standing by the entrance of the alley, but that wasn’t the voice he heard. Before he could figure out what was happening, Booth, already fully transformed, sprung at him, knocking them both to the ground.
The dark brown wolf’s giant teeth gnashed at him, its maw open and ready to chomp at his throat. As it came down on him, Connor suddenly felt the weight lifting off him. A golden brown blur leapt over him, knocking the other wolf down.
He blinked and got to his feet. Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned. “Evie?”
She was running toward him, and he caught her in his arms. “Connor … were you going to …”
Growls and snarls made him turn his head. The two wolves were circling each other, and the smaller, lighter brown one was limping. Quinn. His brother was strong, but he was no match for Booth. Shit. “Stay away,” he told Evie, pushing her back.
He stomped over to the two wolves. The feral wolf would be able to take on Booth. It would be easy enough to let the beast rip into him. But he didn’t want Evie to see it. He didn’t want her to know the real monster lurking inside him. Besides, if he let it loose now, who knows what it could do to her. He reined it in, commanded the beast to stay quiet inside him.
As Booth’s wolf rushed Quinn, Connor leapt between them, tackling Booth. He’d done his share of fighting Lycans even while in his human form, since turning into the feral wolf was always his last resort. The first thing he did was go for the throat. A well-placed punch in the trachea, with enough power, could take a Lycan down.
Booth let out a strangled cry as the wind was knocked out of him, and he collapsed. Connor kicked the animal on its side. When the wolf rolled over and exposed its underside, he stomped a boot-clad foot on his ribs. The satisfying crack of bones told him there was no way he was getting up. As Booth slowly began to turn back to his human form, Connor took the opening and delivered a fist to the other man’s face to knock him out cold.
“Connor,” a strangled cry came from behind. Quinn had changed back to his human form. He was clutching his side as he tried to get up; the claw marks running down his rib cage were still bleeding.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked as he caught Quinn before he collapsed.
“I … knew … you were up to no good,” Quinn said between ragged breaths. “This is why you wanted David Booth’s address?”
“That’s the last time I ask for your help. Fuck.” He looked at the angry red wounds on his brother’s torso.
“Goddammnit.” Quinn sighed. “Selena’s gonna kill me. Good thing it’s already healing.”
“Connor … Quinn!” Evie rushed toward them.
He had nearly forgotten about her. He wiped the blood from his fists on his pants, hoping she wouldn’t see them.
Her eyes widened when she saw Quinn. “Are you okay? Oh my God.” As she tried to check on his brother, Connor quickly stepped between them.
“What are you doing here? Did Quinn bring you here?”
“Shit no,” Quinn answered. “She brought me here.”
“What?”
“Yeah, she called Selena and Selena called me,” Quinn explained. “She asked me where you were going and when she insisted on coming to follow you, I said you’d kick my ass if I let her go alone. So, we all drove here.”
“You were following me?” Connor said.
“Technically, we knew where you were going so following wasn’t necessary,” his brother pointed out. “Evie was the one who wanted to follow you.”
He swung his head down to stare at Evie. “How did you know I was coming here? Were you eavesdropping at the theater?”
Evie craned her neck up to look at him. “What’s going on, Connor? Who is that man? Were you going to …”
“It’s none of your business,” he growled and stepped back, turning away from her. He didn’t want to see her face, not when he knew what she thought of him. She didn’t need to see the feral wolf. She already thought he was a monster.
He stormed out of the alley, walking across the parking lot, crossing it in record time. As he reached his truck, a growl ripped from his throat and he slammed his fist into the driver’s side door, leaving a dent.
“Fuck!” he cried, then slapped his palms on the hood.
“Connor, please, don’t go.”
He froze, as if her words were forcing him to stay still. Slowly, he pivoted. She was jogging toward him.
When she reached him, she braced herself on the side of his truck, her other hand on her heaving chest. “Connor … please … tell me what’s going on.”
“I …” Pain surged inside him and he clenched his jaw.
“You can tell me,” she said in a soft, soothing voice. A palm landed on his cheek, tracing the scar there. “Did that man … hurt you?”
He closed his eyes and placed a hand over hers. She was so small compared to him. Delicate and gentle. It was a wonder she didn’t break, yet, that world hadn’t beaten her down. He swallowed and nodded.
A small cry escaped her mouth, and she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest. He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”
“He hasn’t hurt me in years,” Connor answered, his arms going around her and pullin
g her close. “I escaped, thanks to Archie.”
“He was from your past,” she stated. “Was he your family?”
“No. I didn’t have a family. Not before Archie.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t remember anything from before The Facility.”
“The Facility?”
He gave a curt nod. “That’s what they called it. A place where they trained Lycans in secret.”
“Trained them for what?”
“To fight.” He felt her tense, but, when he tried to pull away, she held onto him tighter. “There was maybe a dozen of us. Booth … that guy … he was the one who taught us to fight. Or scared us into fighting.”
She sucked in a breath. “How old were you?”
“I can’t remember. But we started training before we learned to shift. So maybe around ten or eleven.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “The best ones … we went on to fight in The Cage.”
“What for?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“For fun. For sport. There were always people watching us. Cheering us on. Probably betting on us.”
“That’s … horrible.”
Horrible didn’t even begin to describe it, but Connor didn’t elaborate. When she pulled away, the tightness in his chest returned. She was scared now, disgusted by what he was. More beast than man. A murderous animal.
“That wasn’t … you shouldn’t have been … no child should …” She choked and bit her lip, but, even in the darkness, he could see the tears clouding her eyes. “He deserved that beating you gave him then,” she said, her voice furious. She moved back into his arms and rubbed her cheek on his chest. “I didn’t know … I’m so sorry, Connor.”
Her action and words caught him off guard, and he was speechless. Evie wasn’t recoiling from him. Instead, she came back to him, to his arms.
They held each other, and time seemed to stand still. Connor breathed in her sweet scent and enjoyed the feel of her soft curves against him. Memories of what happened earlier that day came back. The taste of her lush little mouth and the way she pressed up against him. The smell of her arousal mixed with her peach scent. He wanted to—
All for Connor: The Lone Wolf Defenders Book 3 Page 8
