by Lynn Marie
“So it’s about control?”
“In some ways. For me, it’s about… control and power, yes. But so much of it is about pleasure. I would have thought I just showed you—giving you pleasure is important to me, Evelyn.” His voice had taken on a low, gravelly tone.
“Why?” she managed, resisting the urge to fan herself. All this talk was turning her on again. She thought she knew why, too—for all the reasons Michael was mentioning, but in reverse. She needed to be controlled, to submit to his strength and let him take her pleasure. She craved the way it made her feel desired and desirable. It was a heady feeling. And, in a way, knowing how much he wanted her gave her ultimate control.
“Because you’re mine,” he said firmly, sending a delicious chill down her spine. As if to punctuate his point, he lifted her hand to his lips. “And your pleasure is mine. But I don’t want to control your life and I don’t want to own you. I want you to be mine, but I want to be yours, too.”
Evelyn lowered herself down on her elbows. Now this was a revelation. “You do?” she asked carefully.
He smiled and kissed her shoulder. “I do.” For some reason, his eyes cut downwards and he lightly traced the outline of the new bite mark he’d left. The old bruise had just healed to a faint yellowish brown.
She smiled sheepishly at how she’d oversimplified him. “Well… all right then.”
When she slid off the bed, he opened his mouth to protest. Obviously he thought she was still going to leave him, but she cut him off. “I think I will take some company in the shower.”
She took him by the hand, pulled him up and turned towards the bathroom.
“For the record,” he interjected, trailing after her, “Just because you don’t need someone to take care of you doesn’t mean I don’t still want to. I do want to take care of you; I want to keep you safe… and satisfied,” his grin turned wolfish.
Evelyn couldn’t deny that feeling safe and satisfied was an intoxicating enticement. One he’d already fulfilled to the extent of their circumstances.
“I want to take care of you, too. I want to…” she laughed at herself and decided to be upfront with him, “test my recipes out on you and sew the buttons back on your shirts for you. Is that weird?”
She’d expected a laugh, or maybe a joke about being a domesticated female, but not the somber expression on his face as he slowly shook his head. His eyes had an intensity that made her start and look away.
“I want that,” he declared softly, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing her to look up. When their eyes met again, he smiled. His hands cupped both sides of her face and he tilted her head back. His kiss was powerful and startling in its depth.
She pulled back. “Shower. Shower and, like, ten years of sleep.”
He nodded his agreement and turned on the faucet.
Staring at the tight muscles in his upper back as he adjusted the temperature, an idea popped into her head. Michael was in great shape, and not just the kind that came from free weights or the treadmill. “This is maybe a weird question, but what do you know about self-defense?”
If he was surprised by the seeming irrelevancy of the question, he said nothing. “A fair amount, actually.”
“Want to teach me some stuff?”
“Any particular reason?”
Evelyn looked up and away from him. No reason to alarm him when Dana had only psychically seen her dad, but she didn’t want to ignore the warning. “Obviously I want to be able to fight you.”
He laughed at that, a deep belly laugh. “Better not give you my best tricks, then.”
“Why not? Because you’re intimidated by my raw talent?”
Still chuckling, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’d be happy to teach you some moves. Every woman should know how to protect herself. Want to start this weekend?”
“I do. The sooner we start, the sooner I can pay you back for that little orgasm denial game.”
He laughed again.
Chapter 9
“You’re getting quicker,” Michael said approvingly. “Again. Come at me this time.”
Michael watched Evelyn advance, noting openings she was giving him, not blocking her flank or face, all mistakes due to inexperience. He knew which side the hit was coming from, and where she was headed. Though she wasn’t exactly giving him much of a challenge, Michael didn’t mind the exercise or practice. Yet another full moon was tonight and this one had snuck up on him. He’d only had a few days to prepare this time, so he’d gone hard—kicking his workouts up a notch, sleeping more, eating more…
Evelyn sent out a jab tentatively, as if testing the waters, which he blocked and sidestepped instead of countering. It was obvious she’d been expecting a counter as she pitched forward into the space he’d left.
Her exasperated sigh made him smile. She was a quick study, but she was getting tired. They’d been at this all morning and humans burned out quicker than he was used to. To her credit, she hadn’t complained once.
“Focus,” he barked. “Come on, Evelyn. I know you’re tired. Show me what you’ve learned, then we can stop.”
Her eyes glinted as she sensed the finish line ahead and it stirred him. The focus he’d demanded had long ago become an unbearable tease. After hours of little touches here and there—correcting her stance, or grabbing her from behind to simulate an attack, or pressing together only long enough for her to roll away—he was so ready to tire her out in a different way.
Only moving at about half-speed and strength, he sent his fist flying for her. They’d been through the movement so many times, he knew he wouldn’t hit her. He was surprised when she side-stepped him, like he’d just done, and directed a kick at the back of his knee. He jerked out of the way just in time, impressed. She had been paying attention.
Using his unfair advantage of speed, he swerved around her and trapped her in the cage of his arms from behind.
“Good one,” he said into her ear as she struggled. “But you’re going to have to try harder than—oomph!”
She sent her elbow into his stomach and popped free of his hold when he loosened it to drag in a breath. There was no look of anxiety, either—he’d drilled that out of her in the very beginning. She now knew that short of kicking him in the junk, there was very little she could do to physically overwhelm him.
He didn’t let her take a victory breath, coming at her again. She ducked, bobbed, and wove around his punches. Momentary pride in his eager student made him slow. Too slow. He didn’t block her attack until it was too late. She thrust the heel of her hand against his nose and he stumbled backwards, clutching it. Eyes watering, his vision blurred and he didn’t see when she thrust out her foot to stomp on his instep then deliver a successful kick behind his knee.
He went down like a stone. Some of his furniture that they’d pushed aside rattled when he hit the carpet.
“Gotcha!” she declared gleefully.
He groaned and she gasped, quickly becoming concerned. “Michael!”
He waited until she was standing over him to see if he was okay, then he struck. He grabbed her ankle and pulled, flipping up to catch her torso before she fell, then cradling her the rest of the way down until he rested comfortably on top of her.
Her eyes grew round in outrage. “Cheat!” she cried out, wriggling underneath him.
Chuckling, he ran his hand down the length of her side. “You’ve got to be careful of checking on your opponent when you’ve hurt them.”
“I wasn’t checking on an opponent,” she grumbled irritably. “I was checking on you… oh,” she gasped, then let out a feminine sigh when his fingers cupped her ass and pulled her against his erection.
“I think the lesson is over,” he said, lazily stroking her. “Something about watching you try to kick my ass is so hot.”
She laughed and lifted her hips against him. He hissed, smelling that she was totally ready for him. “I did kick your ass.”
“Lucky shot. I was
staring at your boobs.”
“I guess I should fight everyone naked, then.”
“Naked fighting… now there’s an idea.”
She hooked an arm around his neck and he tensed, but all she was doing was pulling him down to kiss him. He braced himself above her with a knee between her legs and inched his hand slowly up her shirt.
He’d just earned a soft sigh of approval with his fingertips when three sharp knocks on his door snapped them both out of their haze. Michael’s head swung up as the door opened.
“Hey man, courtesy knock—oh… heh, uh, sorry.” Trip, at seeing their compromising position, had the grace to flush and look away. “Guess the whole point of a courtesy knock is to wait…”
Evelyn giggled and pushed Michael aside. “Hey, Trip. Good to see you.”
“You, too. Sorry to interrupt.”
Annoyed, Michael rolled over and got to his feet. He needed some water anyway. “Trip, if they gave awards for bad timing…” he began, making his way to the kitchen to grab two water bottles.
“I know I know, I’m the worst, but I’ve got some news you’re gonna want to hear, what with the meeting tonight and all.”
That caught his attention. He reentered the living room as Trip made himself comfortable on the couch, and handed Evelyn one of the bottles. The news couldn’t be wolf-related, or Trip wouldn’t have brought it up in front of her. He knew she didn’t know.
“What’s up?”
“Bad news. You know that old covered bridge at the edge of town? Well, there was a bad storm in Wyatt last week and it washed a lot of debris downstream. Some of it took a big chunk of the bridge and it’s in real bad shape. Could fall at any moment.”
“Shit. You know how many people’s grandfathers’ grandfathers helped build that eyesore?”
“We’ll have to place the community center on hold to do this restoration first.”
Michael nodded. “And if I know this town, they’ll want to redirect the community center funds, too.” Which was a goddamn pain in his ass. Things were finally getting somewhere with the community center, thanks to Evelyn’s idea, but winter wasn’t too far away. He didn’t want to have a build site with no roof come November.
“If it’s a bridge, wouldn’t the government fix it?” Evelyn piped up.
“It’s too old, no one’s used it in years. They fenced it off, made it a plaque and it’s historical now. The government won’t touch it.”
“How about the historical society?” Trip suggested.
Michael sighed. “They’ve got about twelve cents in their rainy day fund.”
“I don’t know, man. Maybe we just let whoever wants to save it save it. Like you said, that thing’s an eye sore and it’s not like anyone can use it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evelyn frown. “But it’s part of the town’s history,” she countered.
Trip glanced at her and almost imperceptibly rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should try to save it, then.”
Michael tamped down on a growl low in his throat. There was no reason to be a dick about it—she just wanted to help. “Trip,” he warned.
“No, actually, that’s not a bad idea. No one’s stopping a citizen from raising the money, and no one else is gonna do it. They’d rather just complain if it didn’t happen.”
Evelyn looked thoughtful, then at Michael for his reaction. He wasn’t sure; it could go either way. Either they’d view her as an interloper who had no place to try to preserve the history when she’d had none here, or they’d appreciate her efforts like Trip said.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe you can’t handle it. You’ve got that business to run and everything and doing two things at once isn’t for everyone. Speaking of which…” he pointedly checked his watch. “Isn’t it about time for that lunch rush?”
Evelyn’s lips twitched. “Sure is. Stop by for a sandwich on your way back to the office. You know, if you can handle doing two things at once.”
Michael barked a laugh. Trip could be an ass, but he was just testing her and Michael had no doubt she could take it. It was part of why he loved her.
Even Trip sheepishly laughed a little. “You coming tonight?
“To the meeting? Yeah. I’m excited to see what it’s all about. Gotta make sure the foreman is acting in the best interest of small business owners.” She winked at him and tilted her face up for a kiss. He complied. “I really should go open the store. Those loaves of bread aren’t going to throw themselves away when no one buys them.”
When she left, Michael turned on his friend, but Trip beat him to it. “Great girl. Listen, the other reason I came is about tonight and the real town meeting in Sully’s field. I heard something.”
“Sometimes you’re worse than an old hen with your gossip.”
“Hey, this time it’s serious. I overheard Brock at the pharmacy the other day. He was trying to buy steroids.”
Michael rolled his eyes. What would this kid think of next? “I hope he enjoys his shrunken testicles and weird body hair, then. It’s not going to help him beat me.”
“It might!” Trip protested. At Michael’s look of disbelief, he became exasperated. “Why aren’t you mad? He’s trying to cheat, man! You’ve gotta call him out on it.”
“How? Making him take a drug test? Most shit doesn’t show up on it and then I look like an idiot.”
“What if he beats you?”
“He won’t.”
“What if he does?”
“Then the Elders get their way and this town’s got a jacked up child for a leader. I’ll wash my hands of it; I don’t know.” Suddenly tired, Michael scrubbed his face with dry, calloused palms.
“Okay, my bad,” Trip said. “You’re a better fighter, even if he is on drugs. Either way, you know I’ve got your back, man.”
At this, he had to smile. Trip did have his back. “Thanks. You know I’ve got yours, too.”
After Trip left, Michael decided to rest his body in preparation for the night. He’d have preferred to work some aggressions out in a decidedly more enjoyable outlet, but Evelyn had to work sometimes. She made jokes about it, but he knew she was worried that her sales weren’t matching her projected earnings from her business plan.
That was part of why tonight was so important. Her first town meeting was also the first time the community would see her as Michael’s chosen mate. They’d gone on dates to the only diner in town, but it was one thing to go on a date and quite another to show up together at this assembly. The implied significance alone would set tongues wagging.
He wanted to bring her to the moon ceremony so badly. There was nothing he’d rather see when he’d finished facing down another challenger than her smile. She was the only one he wanted to prove himself to. His wolf would want to mate afterwards, bonding them together with the blood of another male on his skin and the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
But she still didn’t know anything about his world. He couldn’t very well bring her to a full-out wolf fight.
And that just begged the fucking question. When the hell was he going to tell her?
Every day he didn’t tell her weighed a little heavier. It felt like a lie, but he couldn’t imagine her reaction if he told her before she was ready to hear it. Not that she was particularly closed-minded, but any human would freak out at the sight of a furry canine where a man had stood seconds before. So he’d waited. He wanted to know she’d committed first… which, now that he thought about it, seemed manipulative.
Great. Now he was a manipulative liar.
Resolutely, he closed his eyes and willed sleep to come to quiet his mind if nothing else would. No one was 100% honest up front—it was part of getting to know someone. He’d tell her when the time was right.
Evelyn’s face split into a smile as she climbed into the oppressively masculine truck. Big, shiny silver and whole-heartedly American, Michael’s truck was filled with all kinds of trash from quick meals on the road and smelled like mud
, tobacco, wet leather and his sweat.
This clean, dressed up version of Michael was clearly for the benefit of the town. He looked more than a little uncomfortable, pulling at his collar with his index finger like it was too tight. His hair was wet and had dripped onto his shoulders; he looked and smelled freshly showered and shaven. She openly stared as he moved around the truck from opening her door, ever the gentleman.
The contrast between his massive form and his gentle gestures always struck her. Michael was such a bundle of contradictions, and it continued to fascinate her. His strength as a man was evident in his every hard plane, every coiled muscle. His aggression was obvious by the look in his eye whenever he caught another guy checking her out. He was all testosterone and hot-blood, like a throwback to a medieval knight or a caveman. There was even something innately threatening about him.
In bed it wasn’t much different. Sure, the sex was… well, there weren’t words. He took and took and took—unapologetic about what he wanted, needed.
But just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he turned right around and gave it right back, to the nth degree. He was beyond generous, beyond selfless. She’d never been more satisfied or insatiable. He was never rougher than she wanted him to be and was always so caring afterwards, bringing her water, holding her upright in the shower after they had sex and tenderly washing her back when she was too spent to stand. Odd, though, that he wasn’t so tender while they were actually making love.
No, that was it, wasn’t it? They didn’t make love. They had sex. They fucked. Not that she cared. Fucking was amazingly fun and freeing.
So, no, as a lover, she had no complaints about him.
And, true, she never felt oppressed by his desire for control. That side of Michael only came out when the lights went off, and she usually fought him for control anyway. Her favorite part was finally giving in and letting him take over.
“Come here, Evelyn.”
She snapped into focus to see him behind the wheel, arms spread. Going to him was second nature, even when he didn’t ask. She pressed her body against his and inhaled deeply. God, why did it always feel like she hadn’t seen him in months whenever they were apart for the day?
