by Renee Jordan
“Well, someone's home,” Shane said, an eager scent filling the car. “Good sign.”
“Yeah,” I nodded, biting my lip.
Just me and him, his scent filling my nose. The itch returned. I squirmed, fighting it. If I got too excited, he would smell it. And that was the last thing I needed. I bit my lip, hoping a little pain would help.
Then I rolled down my window and let in the fresh, pine air.
“Do you hear anything from the house?” Shane asked. “I don't hear anything over the crickets.”
I shook my head.
“I was hoping your ears were keener than mine,” he sighed. “And I don't want to try knocking on the door. Not after what happened last time.”
I swallowed, remembering Michael and his spray of bullets.
“No, not without my pack backing us up. And we have no idea if he's in there or even in town.”
“So we wait,” Shane said. “And watch.”
We watched. And watched. I leaned back against the driver's door, a small breeze blowing across my face through the half-unrolled window. Shane reclined his seat back, stretching out his long legs. The sharp profile of his face floated on the edge of my vision as I stared at the trailer. Inside, the TV's lights flashed and shifted, painting new patterns on the curtains.
What were they watching in there? This late, was it an infomercial or softcore porn on Cinemax? I kept my mind away from cheesy porn. The last thing I needed was to think of sex. With Shane in the car, his spicy musk filling my nose, his muscular body filling out his suit. I wanted to rip that shirt open, to scratch at his caramel chest and...
Stop that.
I shifted, the wet itch forming between my thighs. The need building. The wolf demanding I do something about it. I took in deep breaths, slowing my heart, focusing on watching the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement through gaps in the curtains covering the windows.
Shane's nose twitched. His posture shifted. His eyes glanced to me, flicking down to my crotch before returning to glance at the trailer. He smelled my budding excitement. Damn his keen nose. I could see the curl forming at the corner of his lips, the self-satisfied smirk. The “I'm getting laid tonight” obnoxious smile that jackass guys like Shane possessed. So confident.
Not happening. I hoped he got the biggest set of blue balls in the world. A nice, swollen pair aching for release while I sat here, juicy and horny but controlling myself. My scent would drive him wild with need.
He deserved to suffer. Asshole.
I focused on the anger, a buffer against the lust, as I settled on watching the house. I shifted again, my knee bumping the steering wheel. My back pressed against the door handle. I didn't like how it poked me. I moved again, wanting to get comfortable and watch the trailer while ignoring Shane's presence.
But it was hard. I heard his breathing, his heart beat—thudding faster than it should—his musk growing spicier, tinged with lust, the rustle of his silk shirt against his skin, the occasional moistening of lips, the creak of his seat as he sought to get comfortable, the casual adjustment of a hard dick tenting his trousers.
I rolled my window down all the way, letting the air billow in. I needed more scents of nature—pine trees, dirt, ferns, squirrels, birds—to waft through the car, muting his scent. With every breath his musk grew stronger, and my body reacted to it. I leaned my head out the window, trying to focus on other smells. The scent of rubber tires, metal tang of the engine, the faint odor of oil and grease, gasoline.
And Shane above it all.
My body reacted to my mate's scent. My nipples tingled, hardening. I squirmed my thighs again. I caught whiffs of my spicy arousal. A perfume that Shane inhaled. His heartbeat sped up, thudding with his passion.
And my heartbeat matched it, beating in sympathy, yearning for his touch to satiate my body's needs. The strong caress of his hands. The wonderful touch of his lips. Kissing, nuzzling, stroking, pleasing, creating a firestorm in my body which would consume me. I would burn so bright, so long, screaming in ecstasy and—
Stop that!
I blinked my eyes, driving away the image. I had to focus on the house trailer. To ignore Shane. We were here to catch Michael-fucking-Donovan. The sooner the sneak-thief coyote was caught, the sooner Shane could abandon me and I could go back to my one-night stands. Then I could forget about him in the press of flesh with Ajax or Billy or Zane or Dave or James or the dozen other guys I fucked. Men whom I didn't care if they abandoned me. Men I used for my pleasure.
They didn't use me.
Shane was a user. A man-whore. I bet there were a dozen women like me, all shifter wolves, bitches who were dumb enough to imprint him. I bet he goes around the country, fucking them when he was in town, using them because he knows their instincts are to submit to their mate, to love him, please him, unite with him.
That ends now.
Shane shook his head.
“What?” I demanded, my voice so loud in the silence of the car.
“Nothing.”
“You didn't shake your head in disgust for nothing. What?”
“Just your...scent. It's...”
I narrowed my eyes. “What? Tell me?”
He hesitated. “Never mind.”
He thought he could back down? I don't think so. “No, no, you thought there was something about my scent to shake your head at. What?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Why don't we just continue the stakeout?”
“No. What amused you? What annoyed you?”
“Just...the way your scent oscillates from anger to arousal back to anger. I shook my head because...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm causing you all this turmoil. I know...” He trailed off. He turned, looking at me. Pain was in his eyes. “I just...didn't handle what happened between us well.”
“When I gave you my soul, my heart, and you spat on it in a text message?” I arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you meant?”
Anger surged in his scent. “I gave you my heart, too. The imprint works both ways.”
I laughed, shrill, mocking. “Right. You gave me your heart. And then you skipped town.”
“I was an idiot.” He sighed. “Such a damned fool. I panicked. I wasn't prepared for the way the imprint overwhelmed me. The way it consumed me. I knew you were special before. The moment I laid eyes on you, I felt it, the stirring in my soul. That night in the hotel room was supposed to be our last night, a way to say goodbye to you. I knew Michael had already left for New Mexico. I thought you deserved a proper date. No fucking in my motel room or in the back seat of the car or in the bathroom at a restaurant.
“You deserved something better. And then I went and fucked it up by being a moron.”
I frowned at his words. There was such sincerity in them. His eyes stared at me, boring into mine, burning with passion. The passion my wolf responded to. My mate's passion. The love, the desire, the caring protectiveness that one shifter felt towards his or her mate. It was there in his eyes.
Dammit.
My anger evaporated at his pain. Then I blinked. Why should he have pain? He abandoned me.
“You didn't have to leave. You didn't have to abandon me. I-I could have gone with you.”
He hung his head. His shoulders slumped. And then he straightened and looked away to the trailer. “Yes, you could have. And I could have acted like a man instead of a fucking little boy. Three years, and I never had a single morning go by that I didn't regret what I did. That I didn't want to go back and find you, to apologize.”
“Why didn't you? Your job was too precious?”
“At first it was pride. I made my decision and I couldn't come crawling back and look weak. And then... I was too afraid.” He hesitated. “But I did come back.”
“No you didn't.”
But Shane didn't answer. Hurt entered his scent. Betrayed pain, like I had done something to him. He sat there stoic, unmoving, his body strong, but I smelled it. Somehow, I hurt him and I did not know how? He never came back
to Moonrise before today. I would have known.
He had to be lying. Faking his emotions, thinking about something else to fool me. Pity wouldn't work. He wouldn't trick me that easily. I leaned back against the car door, arms folded across my chest, and watched the trailer.
If only my mind was easily distracted by a single-wide trailer and the ever-changing pattern glowing through the venetian blinds. That the chaotic pattern of colors and brightness was enough to keep me circling the scent of his pain.
It was impossible. There was no way I hurt him.
And yet his scent. The pain. The ache to hug him, to apologize to him. To him! It was ridiculous. But my mate was in pain. How could I not react to that? And the look in his eyes as he apologized, the longing, the love... He cared for me. He said it. The imprint works both ways. He gave me his heart. Yes, he had been an idiot to run. And never to respond to my texts. And to never visit.
But he was still the man I loved. I could forgive him. Right? I could take away his pain.
God, how stupid was I? He hurt me so badly. I couldn't go through that again. It wasn't worth it. Shane would just leave me. He was a tiger. Yes, he might love me, but he didn't have that instinct to stay with me, to be my family, my lover, to care for me and support me while I did the same for him.
Tigers didn't live in packs. They didn't form communities. They were solitary beasts. On the prowl for their next meal. Their next dumb werewolf to seduce.
And then stupid Macy's words popped into my head. Her encouragement for me to try to see if we could reconcile, if Shane could be trusted. To find out if he actually loved me enough and had grown enough to handle the imprint and what it meant.
Which was ridiculous. He had his chance. I didn't owe him anything.
But did I owe myself?
What about my happiness? Wolf shifters only imprinted once. We mated for life. That was our nature. Even if Shane died, there would never be another mate for me. Another man to hold me and love me and care for me. Only sex. Hot, passionate, meaningless sex. One empty encounter after another, trying to fill that aching void in my heart that Shane should occupy.
I glanced at him, biting my lip. The hurt still lingered in his scent, mixed with passion. Yearning. I licked my lips, breathing in his scent, dissecting, struggling to figure out what was true in his emotions, how he felt about me.
Was our night in the hotel room a lie? Or did he really and truly love me?
Chapter Nine
Three years ago...
My body burned as we exited the Lodge and into the cool, night air of Missoula. Dinner was fantastic. My prime rib had been bloody and delicious. And Shane teased me the entire time. If I wasn't playing footsie with him, he was rubbing my leg with a strong hand and keeping me on the edge of delight.
When the waitress asked about dessert, I purred, “We're dining on each other tonight.”
Shane had laughed as the waitress blushed again and went to fetch our bill. As much as I wanted a chocolate delight, Shane had teased me too much. I needed to be fucked. I needed him in me so badly. I kept looking at him, the wolf in me wanting to imprint him.
I wanted him to be mine forever. He was so sexy.
But I kept my wolf leashed. Shane wouldn't be here forever. Eventually, Michael would be caught or he would skip town. And then Shane would be out of my life. But I would have my memories. And I knew I would relive tonight over and over.
“So, what do you want to do now?” Shane asked as we stepped outside the restaurant. “There is a great club nearby. Dancing, drinking. How about it?”
“The type of dancing I want to do would get us kicked out,” I purred, pressing my body against him.
“Okay,” he shrugged. “Dancing's out. Up the street is a great pub with amazing karaoke.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that really the kind of howling you want to hear from me tonight?”
“Hmm,” he said, considering. “Bowling. Always a fun activity on a date.”
“Do I need to push you against the wall and fuck your brains out right here?” I moaned. “I will, Shane. I will rock your world for everyone to see.”
“I think that will get us arrested.”
“It'll be worth it.” I leaned in and kissed him hard, aggressive. I pressed against his body, feeling his strength beneath his suit. His arms went around me, holding me to him. I moaned into the kiss, squirming as his hands descended and squeezed my ass. I loved it. Our tongues met as he kneaded me, pulling me against his hard bulge.
“Damn,” he groaned when he broke the kiss. “I think it would be worth it.”
I undulated my hips. “So what will it be? The hotel room or right here, right now?”
“Both are so tempting,” he growled. His voice throaty and thick.
I laughed and pressed into his neck, breathing in his spicy musk. My teeth nipped at his neck. He better decide soon, or I would rip his shirt open and get it started. I couldn't wait. I was a bitch-wolf in heat.
“The hotel,” he groaned. “I want to take my time with you. I don't want a quick fuck. We've had enough of those.”
I shuddered at the passion in his voice. “Then let's go. I'm ready.”
The drive to the hotel was mercifully short. It lay a few blocks up the street. Not one of the major chains, but an older hotel with a great deal of charm. The lobby looked beautiful, the Art Deco betraying its origins. I imagined wealthy businessmen coming here to discuss buying livestock and mineral rights. A classy bar sat off the lobby, but I needed no lubrication for this evening.
I was plenty wet enough.
We checked in with me rubbing against Shane the entire time, my hands roaming his body, feeling his muscles through his silk shirt and squeezing his great ass. My fingers dug into his firm rear. The woman working the desk gave me a knowing smile that said, “Have fun fucking the stud. I so wish it was me.”
I winked at her as we had our key, not a keycard, in hand. I pounced on him in the elevator. I pushed him against the wall and kissed him so hard. My hands untucked his shirt then undid his belt. I couldn't wait any longer.
I shoved into his pants and boxers and found his cock. I squeezed it. He growled into the kiss as he throbbed in my hand. My fingers stroked his length, loving how he felt while his hands slid up my tight skirt over my ass. He gripped my panty-clad ass, his fingers working to my crack. Then he slid lower, reaching for my pussy from behind.
Bold.
He just brushed me through my panties, sending a hot flutter through my body, when the elevator dinged. I groaned and pulled my hand out of his pants and giggled as I darted out of the elevator. He chased me.
I raced in my heels down the hallway, flashing looks over my shoulder. He held his pants up with one hand as he ran, hunger smoldering in those eyes as he hunted me. I trembled and rounded a corner, letting out another squeal of laughter as he lunged and missed. I darted down the hallway until I reached our room. I pressed against the door, trembling as he advanced on me.
“Nowhere to hide now,” he said, salivating.
“Oh, no,” I moaned. “You're going to eat me.”
“Every last bit.” He licked his lips and then lunged and pressed me against the door. He kissed me hard. I moaned into it, humping against him. The door rattled in its hinges as I undulated, so ready to be taken inside and fucked.
His pants fell down as we kissed, his dick pressing against my pussy, separated only by our underwear. My hands slid down his back and shoved into his boxers, gripping his hard ass tight, my fingers digging into his firm muscles. His hands slid up my dress. He cupped my breasts then stroked my thighs.
I could have kissed him forever. Or even fucked him right there. But a door opened and two men stepped out of another room, laughing as they carried on their conversation. I stiffened. “I'm not in the mood for an audience now,” I whispered.
“They couldn't handle watching us.”
I grinned at him. “Ooh, yeah? I can't wait for you to prove tha
t.”
He reached down to the pants bunched around his ankles to fish the keycard out of his pocket. He shoved it into the lock, twisted, then we were in the room. It was gorgeous. My gaze drank it in, sweeping the room. A king-sized bed dominated the room. A bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket of ice, a bead of water dripping down the dark-green glass. The furniture was dark, adding to the romantic atmosphere, making the cream colored duvet on the bed almost glow. I breathed in deeply, my nose tingling as I separated the scents. The room was spiced by the potpourri filling a pair of small glass bowls, one each sitting on the two nightstands. Gossamer curtains allowed silvery light to filter through, the silhouette of the near-full moon burning through the cloth.
“Damn,” I moaned as he pressed behind me and nuzzled at my neck. I loved looking at the moon.
His lips were hot as he kissed, and then his teeth nipped. I groaned, writhing, pressing my ass back into his hard cock. His hands lifted the hem of my dress higher and higher, exposing my stomach. I raised my arms and let him lift it over my head, my naked breasts falling free as he tossed the cloth to the floor. My tangy excitement filled my nose as his hands returned to my stomach.
He stroked me. He caressed and teased me. His fingers were light, sliding up and down my stomach as he kissed and nibbled on my neck. He brushed the bottoms of my breasts and then slid down to tease my hips and stroke around the waistband of my panties. Each time he went up, I hoped he would seize my tits, and every time he went down I wanted those fingers to push into the waistband of my panties.
My purrs became hungry growls as I arched my neck and gave him free rein to enjoy my succulent throat. His lips kissed over my fluttering jugular, feeling my life beat faster and faster as his touch excited me. I moaned when his teeth nipped. I closed my eyes and surrendered to his touch.
His fingers wandered. I licked my lips as he climbed higher and higher. Would he actually touch my breasts this time? My nipples were so hard. His knuckle grazed the bottom slop of my tit, pressing into my flesh.
