Evelyn
I want to punch myself in the face. I’m as emotional as a teen. I’m as nervous as a teen. I’m talking to him as an old lonely woman would. No, like a desperate old woman.
“You want to have kids?” Coyote asks.
“Yes.” I take a sip of my juice. “And a church wedding with that big horrible white dress.”
Yes, I should have bitten my tongue. I’m so emotional I may ask him, no, force him to marry me.
The waitress delivers our breakfast to the table. I grab a fork and start eating, but every bit sticks in my throat.
Something is wrong. Something is right like never before.
“Can I take you out on date?” Coyote asks as his jaw muscles twitch.
I almost choke. “I’m thirty-five. What do you want to do with me on a date?”
“Go to a bar, have a few drinks. Have fun.”
“I am thirty-five. You’re twenty?”
“Twenty-three.”
“You see.” My cheeks burn, and I feel like I have a high fever. My heart thumps in my ears. I need something. Someone. “You don’t want to go on a date with such an old woman as me. Believe me. I’m boring.”
I know being thirty-five or single is not the end of the world. It’s just that I’ve seen shit in life. I work many hours a week. I bring my work to my house. I never rest. I look worse than an average housewife my age.
Coyote puts his elbows on the table and leans towards me. His eyes lock on mine—they’re all amber fury that causes my blood to boil.
“I want to go on a date with you, Evelyn.”
“You do?” I sound like an idiot. What the hell is happening to me? “Alright.”
Did I just agree to go on a date with that pretty boy?
“I’ll pick you up on Saturday at seven.” He waves his hand to the waitress and takes his wallet out of the pocket in his cut.
“Alright.”
“I’m gonna take you home now.” Coyote pays for both of us.
I know I should protest, but my head is so blurry that I can’t. On the other hand, it’s such a chivalrous, old-fashioned gesture. I crave such attention.
“Alright,” I say. “Take me home.”
I rise to my feet and sway. My hands jerk down and I clutch the edge of the table. The plates clatter as a chuckle leaves my mouth.
“Maybe I have a cold indeed,” I say.
“Maybe you have a bad cold, sweetheart. You need me, you see?”
Coyote moves closer to me, his arm seizing me around the waist. His smell hits me hard. I think of wolves, and pine trees. Of untamed freedom. My knees bend, but he supports me with his strong muscular arms. I feel tiny and looked after.
“It must be a really bad cold,” I say as I turn my face and sweep my eyes over his profile.
He grins. “A very bad one.” He pushes me gently forward.
We walk out of the café and the cold air causes my mind to clear a bit. Cars pass us as we walk towards the police station. Coyote’s arm is still wrapped around my back.
A thought causes me to stop. “My flowers.” I jerk my body back as my back rests against his muscular chest.
I’m of medium height, but Coyote is very tall and well-built. His embrace feels like a citadel that can protect me from all the evil of the world. There’s no time in his arms, just his heat and that tantalizing smell of his.
I’m his, and he’s mine. Yes, this is how I feel now.
Chapter 4
Evelyn
“I’ll buy you another bouquet,” Coyote says with amusement.
“No, I want that bouquet.”
This nice boy bought me a very expensive bouquet of red roses. I can’t just leave those flowers for the waitress to trash them. Those flowers mean everything to me.
“I said I’ll buy you another bouquet.” He grunts, and I shudder at that primal sound.
“Alright.” I stand opposite him and sway. What is happening to me? My cold is worse than I thought. “I’m not very well.”
“I can see that.”
An elemental force clouds my mind and strips me of control. I raise my arms and sink my fingers into his hair. It’s thick and sleek to touch. I comb through his hair, enjoying every second of it. What is happening to me? I’m touching a stranger like he’s my lover. Like it’s natural.
Like he’s mine.
Coyote’s hot mouth brushes against my forehead, and a tingle runs down my spine. I pull at his hair and rub my forehead against his unshaven chin. His facial hair scratches my skin and it feels divine.
“Take me home,” I squeak.
He rests his forehead against mine and our breaths merge.
“Let’s go,” he rasps, but he doesn’t move.
I feel his fingers sink into my bun and undo it. No man has ever done such a sensual thing to me on the street. My hair falls to my shoulders and a gust of wind ruffles it. Coyote flashes me a grin. He nuzzles his nose against my hair and breathes me in. A low growl leaves his mouth—it sounds like a wolf’s growl. I feel dizzy. My body sways as Coyote grabs my wrist and pulls me towards a motorcycle. It’s a beautiful machine the colour of steel and blood. Coyote grips my waist and sits me on it as though I weigh nothing. It pisses me off that he’s not touching me. He must hear my thoughts because a wide grin crosses his face once again. He leans towards me and runs his knuckles down my cheek. My whole personal space is him. My whole being is his smell and his touch. I want him so badly. He runs his nose along my shoulder as my core pulses. My heart thuds in my ears. Our glances meet. I see hunger in his, hunger so dark and dangerous that I shudder.
“You’d better take me home,” I mumble.
“Alright.” He nods, jumping on his bike.
I plaster myself to him, my arms around his waist. I inhale his primeval allure. It’s like intoxication, like teetering between sweetness and spiciness. The engine roars and the air smacks me as we shoot forward. I bury my face into his back and pray so that the ride will never end. Time stops. There’s the wind, the sense of freedom and his massive body like a safe haven. There’s the smell of his cut and that of his light sweat. The smell of a noble predator’s fur drenched with rainwater.
We stop in front of my three-bedroom house in what feels like fifteen minutes. Coyote knows where I live. So what? Gabriel must have told him.
Coyote holds a hand out for me and helps me off the bike.
“Thank you,” I say.
“On Saturday, right?”
“On Saturday.”
He holds a wisp of my hair and sniffs at it. He should kiss me. I want him to kiss me. No, I want him to fuck me raw.
Coyote
Her eyes are burning with amber. I can see she’s as intoxicated as me. I’m drunk and dizzy and so aroused I can barely control myself.
It’s all instinct. Mine. Hers. We belong to each other. We should fuck and have that wedding church she wants so badly. Then we should have five pups. She’d be a very good mother, I just know this.
I want to kiss her, but I don’t do this. I couldn’t leave her otherwise. I have to leave her or something bad will happen to her.
I love her so much, but my love can kill her.
She raises her hand, twining her fingers in my hair. I can see there’s no control inside her left. I love it, and I hate it. She turns around and her back rests against my chest. My arms wrap around her, guided by my instincts. Her body rubs against mine as her mouth lets out a low seductive growl. She’s my bitch after all. She knows what to do. Her ass rubs against my hard cock, bringing me to the brink.
I’m a mad man. My wolf chants mine, urging me to claim her.
The last remnants of my rationality stop me from ripping her clothes off and fucking her right here and now.
I should go. I don’t.
I push her forward and she trips over the steps that lead to the front door of her house. She chuckles and digs her hand into the pocket of her jacket. With a seductive smile, she takes her keys out. I tear them a
way from her hand and rush to open the door.
Evelyn scrambles to her feet, slithers between the door and my frame, and clings to me. There’s no sense of rationality inside me left. We tumble into a narrow hall and nudge a side table. A vase falls over and rolls before it shatters against the floor.
I kick the door close. “You need to get some sleep.”
“Oh really?” She squeezes my butt with her hand, and I almost cum.
We tumble into a living room and fall to our knees. I grip her waist, turn her, and set her back against my chest. Her lush ass moves up and down the bulge in my jeans and I lose control. I just want to hold her in my arms and get my release with her. I grip her hips and rub her ass against my cock faster. Her arm encircles my neck. She slides her other hand under her trousers, and I hear her moan. Everything gets hot around me. The world pulsates and chants mine; it blurs and explodes. I explode. Evelyn trembles against me and moans her satisfaction. That sweet sound burns a memory into my mind.
Evelyn
I can’t recall my way. I’m lying on my bed and Coyote is removing my clothes. I dry-humped him downstairs, that’s all I can bring back into my mind.
“Sleep, Evelyn.” It sounds like an order, so I nod as a good girl would.
I close my eyes and yawn. I’m exhausted. Coyote strokes my head with his callused palm, and I fall sleep.
Burning, colourful dreams torment me. They’re intense and exhausting. They’re a blur, a mirage.
A banging noise wakes me, followed by the intense smell of coffee. I open my eyes and the ceiling spins out of control. My head throbs.
“Evelyn.” It’s his husky voice, the voice I love so much. “How are you?”
A hand strokes my cheek, and my eyes meet his. Coyote looks concerned.
I’m so weak I can’t lift a hand. “I really have a cold.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to.”
My eyes roam over his bare chest. Tattoos adorn his skin as his perfect muscles bulge with each movement. He is so young. So beautiful.
My headache grows in strength, and I roll over on my side. My skin is burning.
“I need to call my HR,” I rasp.
“I already did that for you.”
“You did?”
“You’ve been sick for two days.”
My head feels like it will explode at any moment. “Two days?”
“It’s Friday today.”
“Fuck.”
“Are you hungry? I made breakfast.”
Coyote helps me sit up. My vision blurs, and I see red flashes in front of my eyes. A tray lands on my lap. My eyes sweep over a cup of coffee and two slices of toast with jam. I realise my naked breasts are on display. I pull the comforter up to cover my chest as Coyote perches on the bed.
“Thanks for the breakfast,” I say, my voice a bit hoarse.
“You’re welcome.”
“So…where…”
“The sofa downstairs is really comfortable.”
“Okay.”
“I found a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.”
“Good.” I nod. “You need shaving as well.”
He chuckles and strokes his beard.
“So, zero hour is tomorrow,” I say.
“If you’re not well enough we can stay in here and have a movie marathon or something.”
He made me breakfast and now he wants to stay with me. He is so sweet.
“No,” I protest. “I think I’m getting better.”
He passes a slice of toast to me. “Eat.”
I bite into it, chew and swallow. My throat seizes with a sharp pain like I’ve swallowed razor blades as the food goes down. “Maybe it’s tonsillitis or something. I may need antibiotics.”
“You need to rest, that’s all.”
“Alright.”
“I’m gonna stay with you.”
“Forever?” I wink at him.
“Forever.” He runs his knuckles down my cheek as his eyes fill with admiration. There’s nothing false about it. There’s the rawness and purity of his feelings for me. My God, he doesn’t even try to hide it.
I melt as my breath stops in my throat. My stomach flutters and my skin starts sizzling. Coyote chuckles as he rises to his feet with springy elegance. He exits the room and I miss him so much that I want to throw the tray at the wall.
Coyote
She takes a shower and puts a tracksuit bottom and a t-shirt on. Her clothes have a cobalt colour that matches her fair skin tone perfectly. I stifle the urge to touch her. Barely.
No, no more touching. My fucking stupidity put her down for two days. I know I should leave her, but I can’t. I need to look at her, smell her, take care of her.
We didn’t do much and she was unconscious for two days. Fucking would kill her. I have no doubt about it.
But I’m a selfish bastard, and I want to be around her.
A few days and then… I have no fucking idea what then.
She sits down in a white chair at the kitchen table whilst I cook lunch for her.
“Why are you here?” she asks in a tired voice.
“I want to be here.”
She tosses her hair back. “I saw a wolf in the woods. Reagan said his name was Coyote. Weird, isn’t it?” Our eyes meet, and I see dread in hers. “Why am I telling you this? You said… I didn’t…”
“You’ve been sick, Evelyn. Your head is tired, that’s all.” I put a plate in front of her.
“There was a wolf.” She grabs a fork and starts eating.
“Okay, there was a wolf.”
“He didn’t hurt Reagan.”
“Maybe it was a she-wolf and she wanted to make friends with Reagan?”
“No, he nudged my ass with his mouth, you know.” She chuckles, putting the fork across the plate. “Weird, isn’t it?”
“You’re crazy, that’s all.”
“You shouldn’t be around such a crazy old woman. I may be dangerous to you.”
“I love your craziness. And I can tame you.”
She averts her eyes and stares out the window. I see tears glitter on her cheeks, giving her an unearthly appearance.
I kneel down in front of her. “Evelyn, it was only a joke.”
“Which one? The one about my craziness or the one about you loving it?”
I hold her hand in mine and rub my thumb on her palm. “I love you, and that’s not a joke.”
Chapter 5
Coyote
Her hand trembles as her fingers twitch. “What is going on, Coyote? Something is wrong, but my head is so hazy all the time. Please, tell me what is wrong. I can’t think clearly.”
Her yellow eyes lock on mine. The intensity of her gaze gives me joy and even more pain.
“You love me?” I ask.
“I think I do.”
“Then everything is as it should be.”
“No, it’s not,” she growls and covers her face with her hands.
I take her hands off her face. Pain squeezes my heart at the sight of the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Everything is fine. Go have a good rest. You need to rest, sweetheart.”
“Why am I so tired? I should have recovered from my cold by now.”
“It’s a really bad cold.”
Her eye twitches, and she frowns. “I’ve never had such a bad cold. Ever. Even as a child.”
I plant a kiss on her knuckles. “This is your first time then.”
She bobs her head. “You smell of a wolf’s fur, you know this?”
“Maybe this is my new cologne?”
“Maybe.”
“It smells nice. Really nice. Love your smell.”
I hook her under her arms with my hands and lift her up. “Go have some rest. I’ll take care of everything.”
Evelyn
His voice is gentle, but commanding at the same time. I obey. I want to obey. I want to submit myself to him. Me?
I’ve always preferred to
be on top, to be in control. I had to learn to be a strong woman because I chose to work among strong men. The police station is a hostile environment. A woman must master elegant toughness towards the men who work in there and cold roughness towards the criminals who arrive at the cells.
I’m shy with Coyote. I’m submissive and vulnerable with him. I like this new, delicate me. He’s young, but makes me feel like I’m a fragile woman. It’s a damn very good feeling.
I don’t like the blurry shit thickening around me, the shit I can’t grasp or control. I want to understand it, to investigate it, but the hot haziness possessing my mind prevents me from doing so.
I lie down on the sofa in the living room, and Coyote wraps the blanket around me. He turns on TV and sits down, putting my feet on his lap. An old movie about gangsters lulls me to sleep. I wake up as a hand touches my cheek.
“I’ve cooked dinner for you,” Coyote says.
I sit up, taking a deep breath. The smell of detergents wafts through the air. “You’ve cleaned up my house as well.”
“You’ve been asleep for five hours, so I had to entertain myself.”
A young man is cooking for me, cleaning for me. Living with me.
“You’re so sweet,” I say.
I realise I love being taken care of. I haven’t been taken care of since I moved out of my family home. I graduated from the best police academy in the country. I have a brilliant career but I’m lonely as hell. I want to slow down and allow someone to take care of me. No, not someone. It must be Coyote. Only him.
I want to be silly, shy and giggly. I want to be young once again. I’ve always been very ambitious and my family home was a perfect environment for me to thrive. My parents are good people, but my whole childhood and adolescence, they’d been strict when that was needed. They encouraged me to try harder and to reach farther. My father is retired, and he was a damn very good cop. I’m his only child, and he wants me to be better than him. I’ve worked hard so as not to disappoint him.
Coyote exits the room and returns with a tray in his hands. He puts it on the glass coffee table. The smell of cooked veggies teases my nostrils.
Coyote: Salvation Ghosts MC (Defiant Love Saga Book 2) Page 3
