The sight of Lani’s face lifting to accept the Indian’s kiss burned in his brain. Perhaps, he wouldn’t be so angry if he hadn’t spent hours with frustration and fear building inside him as the cat had streaked across the countryside.
His joy when he’d finally seen Lani waiting in the bottom of the cave had turned to shock as she’d stared at them, tears welling in her eyes. Her look of wonder and acceptance had pierced his heart.
When the Indian had opened his arms, she’d flown to him. The joy the other man had felt, the sense of homecoming and love that had brushed his mind, had stunned Rafe.
Rafe had meant to wound Lani when he’d asked which man she would have preferred to remain with her. He’d wanted to hurt her for her betrayal, but deep inside he’d wondered whether she really would have preferred the Indian.
Last night, his anger had come unbridled. He’d fucked Lani like she was a whore. Loosed a monster of jealousy on her he hadn’t been able to rein in.
In the harsh light of morning, he regretted every word, every action. But how could he say he was sorry and have her know it was real and heartfelt? Was he really sorry? Or did he still harbor resentment inside him?
Rafe stared down at his hands and clenched his fists. He’d touched her with anger in his heart—for that he was deeply sorry. But did her transgression really warrant the punishment he’d meted out? When she’d lain beneath him, all he could think about was how sweetly she’d kissed the other man. Rafe had seen red and meant to brand her forever as his. Well, he had. He just hoped she’d forgive him.
He backed down her drive and headed to the fire station. He still had jealousy riding on his shoulders, but he couldn’t wait another minute to tell Lani he loved her, even if she’d given part of her heart to a spirit.
Lani peeled potatoes at the sink in the fire station kitchen. She’d volunteered for kitchen duty. Anything to keep some distance from the boys today.
The men had groaned loudly because a few of her offerings had resembled the aftermath of a three-alarm fire. But she needed time alone. They must have seen something in her face, because they’d been quiet around her, careful even.
They’d had a busy morning—a kitchen fire and a brush fire beside the highway. But back at the station it was hard to wear a smile when her world was falling apart. She’d slept fitfully after Rafe had left, hoping he’d show up at her door, ready to talk things out. However, her alarm had woken her at six.
She’d even remembered to charge her cellphone and bring it with her, but it remained quiet all day. He wasn’t going to call.
“Need any help?” Randy stood at the swinging door, his young face solemn.
She guessed her attempts at hiding her broken heart had failed miserably, since he’d guessed. She looked back at the potato in her hand. “No, I can handle it.”
“Well, I’ll just be out here…”
Feeling like the Grinch, she sighed. “I could use some help.” She glanced back at him and smiled. “Know how to make meatloaf?”
“Sure.” His devilish grin was quick. “Five minutes in the microwave?”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“Just kidding. Hamburger, eggs, bread crumbs, a little catsup.” His smile turned sheepish. “My mom gave me a recipe book. Said I’d never survive the fire house if I poisoned the guys.”
“Smart woman.” Lani turned back to the potatoes.
The kitchen door whooshed open again. Thinking Randy must have left to search for the cookbook, Lani nearly jumped out her skin when hands settled on her shoulders.
Hands she’d know anywhere from their weight and warmth. Lani didn’t turn. She set her paring knife and the potato in the bottom of the sink.
“Hi, Lani,” Rafe said, his voice rough as gravel.
She closed her eyes briefly and tried to inject carelessness in her voice that she didn’t feel. “What are you doing here, Sheriff?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Remembering Randy, she started to glance over her shoulder.
“He left when I came in.”
“Well, I’m right here. Say what you have to say.”
His fingers tightened. “I’m sorry, Lani.”
Please, don’t let this be goodbye. She shook her head. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
He leaned into her back, his mouth next to her ear.
It was all Lani could do to keep from turning and throwing her arms around him.
“Let me say this. I have a lot to be sorry about.”
Lani’s fingers curved around the edge of the sink.
“I hurt you. Used you rough.” Rafe’s voice grew harsher. “I took my anger out on your body.”
Lani hung her head. “You had a right to your anger. I disappointed you.”
“I was angry—but more because I couldn’t reach you. Couldn’t protect you.” He turned her to her face him.
Sorrow was etched in his haggard face. “I think I understand. That kiss didn’t have a thing to do with how much you love me, did it?”
Lani couldn’t stop the tears welling in her eyes. She blinked and shook her head. “To me, he was part of you by that point, and so lonely. When I looked at him, knowing you were in there with him, I felt like your souls had somehow…blended. He’s not coming back, is he?”
“I don’t feel him inside me anymore.”
Lani blinked again, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She tried to smile, but her lips trembled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually such a crybaby.”
“We’ve had a strange couple of days,” he said softly and wiped away the tear with his thumb.
She gave a single laugh. “Unbelievable days.”
“Forgive me?”
Unable to hold herself back a single second longer, Lani wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek above his heart. “Rafe, I love you so much. Tell me I didn’t spoil things between us.”
“Baby, I broke a promise to you. A couple actually.”
She looked up, not understanding.
“I promised I’d never become a monster, and that I’d never hurt you. Can we get past that?”
All her fear drained from her. He wanted to move on—with her. “I’m not as fragile inside as you think. And I’m not naïve enough to think we’ll never hurt each other again.” She stared at him, hoping he’d see all the love in her heart. “Just love me. It’s all I ask.”
Rafe drew in a deep breath, and his arms hugged her tight. He pulled her up, so high her feet left the ground, until their gazes were level. “I love you, Lani. I want you for my wife.”
Rafe didn’t wait for her answer, he kissed her.
“I suppose this means I’m peeling the potatoes, too?” Randy’s wry voice sounded from the kitchen door.
Lani grinned at Rafe. “I’m afraid this shift doesn’t end until the morning.”
Rafe groaned and pressed the urgent part of him against her warmth. “I’ll be waiting for you a minute after it ends.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Her happiness couldn’t be dampened. “Staying for dinner?”
Rafe shot a glare at Randy, who was leaning with his hip against the counter and wearing a grin the size of Texas plastered on his face. “Not if he’s cooking.”
Lani picked up the paring knife and the potato and handed them to Rafe. “I hate peeling potatoes.”
Rafe followed her home in his squad car.
Lani was glad he couldn’t see the grin on her face as she kept the truck moving forward—under the speed limit. She wanted to build the urgency in him—wanted to see that taut, predatory look in his face as he stalked her through the house.
He didn’t disappoint. He shadowed her steps up the porch and cursed while she deliberately fumbled with the keys. As soon as the door swung open, his hands reached around her and unbuckled her belt, forced her zipper down, and shoved her pants to her thighs.
Once again, they made it no farther than the arm of the sofa.
La
ni laughed, delighted as he drove his cock inside her. Imagine that! I inspire that kind of need!
“Damn, I really did want this to last,” he said, his voice hoarse and muffled against her shoulder.
“Rafe, I don’t care if you’re a one-minute man—the first time. You always make it up to me.” She squirmed beneath him, encouraging him to move.
He bit her shoulder. “Don’t move, baby. I’m barely holding on here.”
She squeezed her inner muscles and felt him jerk.
“Dammit all to hell.” Rafe pulled back and thrust hard inside again.
Lani groaned and clutched at the fabric, enjoying the heat he built inside her with each stroke.
He leaned away and gripped her hips, improving the angle of his thrusts—as well as his leverage. His belly slapped her bottom—fast, sharp—warming her skin, raising her desire, so that before long, she pleaded for release.
Suddenly, he pulled out.
Lani glanced over her shoulder. His face was tight, hard. He’d managed to strip off his pants, and his legs were widespread behind her. His cock was red, engorged, and glistened with her juices.
“Strip!” he said, his chest rising and falling fast.
Her hands shook as she fought with her clothing, but moments later they were both naked. Rafe opened his arms, and Lani flew to him wrapping her arms and legs around his body.
He turned and pressed her back against the door. “You never answered my question,” he said, as he nuzzled her neck.
It took a moment for her mind to grasp the change of topic. Like he didn’t already have his answer two seconds inside the door. “It’s yes, of course. Now, fuck me!”
His cock found her entrance, gliding easily into her slick pussy, and he rocked her on the door, sliding her up and down the smooth wood. “When?” His face was feral, a remnant characteristic he’d carry with him the rest of his life.
Not that she’d ever tell him.
Lani’s eyes drifted closed, and she fought to catch her breath. “As soon as we get out of bed?”
“And how soon do you think I’ll let that happen?”
A pleased smile curved her lips. “The justice might get a little embarrassed if we say our ‘I do’s’ between strokes, babe.”
“His problem.” Rafe shifted her in his arms. “I need you under me.”
“The floor,” she gasped.
They slid down together, and finally with cool wood beneath her back, Rafe lifted her ass to give her the pounding she’d earned for all her teasing.
While her body shuddered and spasmed all around his hard cock, Lani counted her blessings. She’d have a lifetime of desperate, passionate loving.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
Rafe smiled as Lani’s fingers lazily traced the curve of his ear. “The dispatcher knows where I’m at. I told her I was having breakfast.”
“Think she knows you aren’t chowing down on doughnuts?”
Rafe smiled at her sassy words. “Probably. I don’t think anyone hasn’t figured out I’m crazy in love with you.”
“I should rustle up something in the kitchen, so you won’t be a liar.”
“Keeping up my strength?”
She grinned. “That, too.”
Reluctantly, Rafe rolled off Lani, and she reached for the robe at the end of the mattress. He moved his foot onto it. “You need that?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I guess not.” She let it slip from her fingers. “I thought I’d be a little less distracting. Our meals together tend to get cold.”
“I like watching you walk around naked.”
“Better enjoy it now—before everything heads south.”
“Think I won’t still like what I see? I think it’ll be a new rule. This house is a no-clothes zone past the front door.”
“What about the porch?”
Rafe gave her a wicked, teasing smile. “Want a little more porch, do you?”
Lani sighed and shook her head sadly. “I’m going to be wearing a permanent blush, aren’t I?”
“It’s part of the marriage vows—I promise to keep you bent over and bowlegged for the rest of our days.”
She swatted him with the pillow, and then strolled away—a definite sashay in her walk.
As her footsteps faded, so did his smile. He rose from the bed and opened the door onto the porch. The morning was bright, the heat not yet suffocating. A light breeze dried the last of the sweat from his skin. He gripped the railing and closed his eyes.
Rafe didn’t consider himself a religious man—hadn’t really given God much thought. But he recognized that the hand of a higher power had been at work here. He’d thought he was chosen to receive the spirit of the Indian and the lion because of his connection to Lani, but that was only partially true.
He’d been chosen because he’d love her no matter whose baby she carried inside her body now. Lani didn’t know she was pregnant yet, and he’d wait a little while to tell her.
She was going to cry.
He smiled at that thought. He’d found the gentle, soft core inside the strong woman. For him, she wore her emotions close to the surface, unafraid to let him see inside her heart.
He’d give it a few days, and then tell her. His child or the Indian’s—she’d love either equally.
And he’d fulfill the ultimate role he’d been chosen for. He’d be a loving father to Red Wolf’s son.
Big Bad Wolf
Night Fall, Book #13
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
Delilah Devlin
Chapter One
The moment Calum Fletcher stepped into The Cavern, his body quickened. The heavy thud of his heart pounded at his temples. His skin prickled. Above the scent of booze and sex, he noted the musty, metallic odor of blood, and his stomach churned. Every instinct shouted danger.
Striding past the brawny, dull bouncer at the door, he kept moving, needing to draw calm around him before his nature was revealed. Although the vampires had been warned of his pack’s arrival in Seattle, he preferred to cloak himself in humanskin, free of wolf scent. The better to study the enemies he’d now be aligning with in war.
Dance music beat against his body. Bright, strobing lights pierced his eyes. Turning from the dance floor, he moved toward the bar, ignoring the activities of the patrons—the feasting, the fucking. Everywhere, except at the bar, an orgy of bloodlust and sexual excess was in progress.
The blonde behind the bar gave him quick, assessing glance. Her green eyes narrowed. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked, all the while continuing to watch him as though she expected trouble.
“A beer.”
“No preference?”
He shook his head, wanting to look away, but he was studying her as well. The blonde, uneven cut that barely reached to her chin looked wind-tousled. Her pale unpainted cheeks were as smooth as porcelain. Her mouth was bowed but held in a tight, firm line. Below, her figure was lean and muscled with only a slight flare of hips and a meager bosom.
And then he viewed her clothing—a black, form-fitting tank and faded blue jeans with ragged holes over both knees, stuffed into square-toed black boots. Harsh, dark. Echoing the look in the eyes. Vampire, he concluded. Had she already guessed his true nature?
She placed the beer on a cardboard coaster in front of him. “Haven’t seen you here before,” she said, her voice soft, but with a hint of an edge.
“I’m from out of town.” Out of state, actually, but he didn’t elaborate.
“How did you find this place?”
He gave a shrug then met her gaze, locking with it. “I was walking along the docks. Heard the music.”
She frowned. “And once you came inside...?”
Her tone clued him she was angling to hear what he thought of what was going on. A human who ventured inside by accident should be shocked. So, she hadn’t made him.
He held still. Barely breathed. If she knew he wasn’t a willing “host,” someone who
understood the rules of the blood exchange, what would she do? His curiosity was piqued by her deepening frown and downturned mouth. Was she considering giving him a “friendly” warning?
Calum broke with her gaze and glanced at the dance floor. Most pairs danced, bodies moving in a wild fervor. A few barely swayed while hosts’ necks bent and vamps’ mouths worked, teeth and tongues biting and licking. He barely repressed a shudder. Worse, his gums tingled. When he turned back, he didn’t bother hiding a frown.
She reached out a hand and cupped the back of his wrapped around the beer. “Are you curious?” she asked, her voice thicker than before and lisping.
Curious about her, yes. Which should have alarmed him. But she wasn’t flirting and wasn’t attempting to use her vampire’s tricks to seduce him. Her gaze was direct. A straightforward challenge.
And although he wasn’t there to play, he did have time to satisfy his curiosity. The rest of his pack would be arriving soon enough. He’d pushed ahead of the convoy while they’d stopped for a meal. He gave a slight nod.
Her chest rose, and she lifted a hand to signal to a waitress, who made her way behind the far end of the long wooden bar. Then the blonde lifted the hinged, vertical opening in the bar and stepped through to join him.
Standing next to him, she had to raise her head to meet his gaze, something that appeared to irritate her, because a frown dug a line between her brows. “Bring your beer.” She stepped past him, skirting the dance floor and moving toward a row of leather-upholstered booths at the opposite side of the room, lit only by candles set in decorative glass bowls.
He followed, beer in hand, then slid into the booth she indicated.
Rather than taking a seat opposite him, she slid in beside him and turned, raising one knee to the seat. Her gaze went to his beard then trailed over his chest and below, before slowly rising again to his face. “I’m Ginnie,” she said, her voice huskier than before.
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