Wild Invitation: A Psy/Changeling Anthology (Psy-Changeling)

by Nalini Singh

  But even though he fell into bed bone tired, the exquisite taste of Grace in his mouth, he dreamed of horror. “No! No!”

  • • •

  THE next day was a crazy one. One of the major air conduits just up and died without warning, pulling Grace’s entire team out of bed at six a.m. Paul, their air-systems expert, had them working nonstop until after five, when he decreed the job complete. Tired but pleased, they slapped one another on the back, then went their separate ways.

  It was only after she’d showered that Grace realized Cooper hadn’t said anything about seeing her tonight when he’d dropped by to check on the progress of the repair. Of course, it had hardly been a private moment—and Cooper was doing his best to give her time to get used to their relationship in private before it inevitably went public.

  It wouldn’t be too much longer, she knew that, especially after the kiss at the tree site. Predatory changeling males, regardless of their place in the hierarchy, were all openly possessive. The fact that Cooper had fought his instincts on the point this long…well, it simply made her melt for him even more.

  “I like your kisses, bad girl.”

  Toes curling, she went to check her messages, only to discover one from her brother but nothing from Cooper. And she knew for a fact he was in the den, so he hadn’t been pulled away.

  Frowning, she sat down on her bed and thought things through. Given that Cooper had made it crystal clear he intended to have her…keep her, added to the reality that dominant males went after the women they wanted no holds barred, the fact that he’d expended no effort whatsoever to pin her down for tonight could only mean one thing—he was treating her as his, as if their spending time together was a given.

  It was a very subtle form of dominance play,and no matter how much woman and wolf both adored Cooper, Grace had no intention of being led on a leash.

  Chapter 7

  COOPER’S blood went ice-cold when no one seemed to know where Grace had gone. He pulled out his cell phone to call her, knowing she’d see it as a controlling move on his part, but he needed to know she was okay, was safe. The rain was only a drizzle for the moment, but that didn’t mean the roads weren’t dangerous.

  “Hey, Coop.” Shamus ran over before he could input the call. “Emma’s abandoned me for dinner out with Grace and Vivienne. You want to grab a pizza?”

  It took everything Cooper had to hide his relief. “I’m heading out,” he managed to say. “Need to run. But I think a few of the others are hanging in the break room.”

  “We’ll save you a slice.” Shamus turned, ran backward for a few feet. “I was just outside. Still raining on and off, but the wind’s gone flat and the moon’s actually out—best view is past the twin waterfalls.”

  “Thanks.” Cooper shoved his cell phone back into his pocket as the senior soldier disappeared around the corner, and bracing his palm against the stone wall of the den, he gave in to a shudder. He knew his response was extreme, would scare Grace, seeming to spring from a level of possessiveness that went far beyond what might be expected from a SnowDancer lieutenant. No woman wanted to be with a man who wouldn’t permit her to breathe, whose care became a cage. Which was why he had to get a grip on himself before she saw him again.

  Growling under his breath, he made his way outside and ran until he could think through the chaotic haze of his emotions. He wanted to go after Grace with every cell of his being, needed desperately to scent her alive and well, but he’d already miscalculated once. Making his way to the den instead, damp but not cold, he showered, then grabbed some dinner from the kitchen and spent the next couple of hours working in his office.

  As was usual when he was alone in his office at this time of night, more than one member of the pack dropped by to talk or ask for advice. It kept him busy, and he was fine for the first half hour, okay for the second. The third and fourth were like having nails pounded into his flesh. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing Grace wasn’t alone and that Shamus was surely in touch with Emma. Anything happened, Cooper would have the information within minutes.

  Finally, he saw the women’s vehicle come in, the lights cutting through the dark of the night outside before the SUV slid silently into the underground garage. He forced himself to give Grace fifteen minutes to change and settle in, then stalked down to knock on her door.

  This time, he attracted a few interested glances from passing packmates. It was late for a man to be going to a woman’s room, and as Grace’s boss had returned that afternoon, Cooper couldn’t excuse it on the grounds of a systems emergency. He knew they were close to busted. Good. He needed people to know she was his, that he should be told if she was ever in any trouble.

  The lack of secrecy would also give him room to court her as outrageously as he liked.

  When the door opened to reveal her clad in pajama pants of pale blue fleece featuring fluffy white sheep, along with a soft black T-shirt that caressed her with the finesse of a lover, her hair tumbling over her shoulders in a dark cloud, he had to take a deep, deep breath to restrain his instinctive response to thrust his hands into the luxuriant mass, tilt back her neck, and bite.

  She’d scared him.

  He hated the feeling, but he also knew his scars weren’t Grace’s fault. She’d acted as any female wolf would with a man who’d dared take her for granted; she could have no idea of the violent response she’d incited in him. And if he had his way, she never would. Cooper didn’t want his nightmares to shadow the life he intended to build with her.

  “Hello, Grace.” He leaned against the doorjamb, doing nothing to hide his appraisal of her beautiful body. When her nipples pushed against the well-washed fabric of her tee as her breath hitched, he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra, and self-control became one hell of a test. “I left my bag here the other day.”

  “What?” Pulse thudding in her throat, she swallowed. “Oh, yes, I put it right here.” She went to get it, paused, turned back. “You did it on purpose.”

  Smile deepening, he let his gaze linger on her lips. “Did I?”

  Chest rising and falling in an increasingly rapid rhythm, she swallowed. “You’re being pushy.” It was a husky accusation.

  He shrugged, his wolf prowling to the surface of his mind. “It’s who I am, you know that.” His gentleness with her hadn’t been feigned—he adored coaxing and petting Grace, but she needed to see and accept this side of him, too. He’d intended to ease her into it, but she’d changed his plans with her rebellion, aroused the primal core of his nature. “Your fault, you know.”

  Her hand clenched on the edge of the door. “Mine?”

  “You did challenge me tonight.” In her own way. “You know how wolf males react to a private challenge from a female.”

  Her cheeks colored that pretty color he wanted to lick up from every inch of her skin. “It wasn’t a challenge.”

  “Don’t be a liar now.” A slow tease. “I got the message.” He straightened from his leaning position to brace his hands on the top of the doorway, blocking her from the view of those in the corridor. This woman was his. He didn’t want to share. Not tonight. “Invite me in, bad girl.”

  “If you got the message,” she murmured, standing firm, “you know I’m a little mad at you.”

  Strong, sexy, beautiful woman. “I think I can coax you out of a little mad.” Dropping one hand, letting her see it so she wouldn’t startle, he ran a finger over her cheek. “All you need to do is open the door a fraction wider.”

  Grace shivered…and stepped back. Not bothering to see if they had an audience, he walked inside, and this time, he shut the door. But rather than blocking the exit, he shifted to lean against the wall beside her bed, the shoji screen sitting neatly folded in the opposite corner, and crooked a finger. “You know you want to.”

  Rather than scowling at his arrogance as he’d expected, Grace frowned, her eyes looking into his for a single, compelling instant. “Cooper, what’s wrong?” she said, and he wondered what
he’d betrayed, what she’d seen. “There’s—”

  Not giving her a chance to continue, he reached back and pulled off his T-shirt. Her gasp was a stroke to his ego, but he wanted more than that. Needed more than that, the irrational fear that had gripped him by the throat having left raw edges in its wake that hurt with every breath.

  Dropping the T-shirt to the floor, he prowled across the space that separated them, hotly conscious of the way she watched him, her arousal an erotic musk in the air.

  Thank God.

  It was a heartfelt thought, because the fact was, his body was more than a bit beat up, had a number of scars—even changeling-quick healing couldn’t fix everything. Added to that, he was a big man. Big enough to intimidate—which was the response he caught a faint hint of in Grace’s eyes just as he reached her.

  “Touch me,” he said, stripping his need bare. “I promise I won’t touch you in return until you ask.” Make no demands that might force her wolf to react with throat-baring submission, savaging the fragile trust that had grown between them.

  “That’s not fair on you.” Quiet words, her eyes continuing to eat him up in a way that had his cock at rigid attention.

  “I’ll never complain if you have your hands…or your mouth, on any part of my body.” He might go insane, but it would be a glorious madness.

  Her breasts caught his attention as she sucked in a breath, her nipples tight peaks against her T-shirt. Mouth watering, he put his hands behind his back and locked his arms by gripping one of his wrists with his other hand. “I,” he murmured, “give you permission to punish me for my behavior tonight.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you’re dreading it,” she said, placing her hands on his chest.

  He bit back a growl of demand. “Trust me, it’s torture.”

  Lips curved, she began to shape and pet him with a distinct feminine possessiveness in every stroke, that of a woman who considered him her personal property. God, it felt good. He couldn’t hold back a groan when she skated her fingernails over his nipples. She paused…and repeated the caress.

  “Christ, Grace.” Shuddering, he dipped his head forward.

  Not the least hesitant, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed him, her hands gripping his waist. He took full advantage, coaxing and seducing with his mouth, his tongue. She let him in, and when he sucked on her tongue, she echoed the intimate caress, her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hard little points he wanted to roll between his fingertips, tug and squeeze until he knew exactly what made her moan, what made her writhe and go molten around his cock.

  Breath ragged, Grace broke the intimate contact to press an openmouthed kiss over his left nipple. Pleasure rocked his entire body, almost breaking him in two. When she repeated the caress on the other side of his chest, he had to use teeth-gritting control to keep from throwing her onto her bed, tugging off her pajama pants, and mounting her in the most primitive of matings. He wanted to see that curvy behind move against him, wanted to reach down and play with her heavy breasts as he slid his cock in and out of her in a pounding rhythm.

  He just wanted.

  And since he couldn’t touch, he began to talk. “You know how I’d like to take you the first time we’re together?” Too fast, he was moving too fast, being too aggressive for his sexy Grace, but he couldn’t stop.

  Nails pricking his chest. “How?”

  “Face-to-face, you spread out under me, your legs locked around my hips, and my cock buried balls deep in you.”

  She swallowed at the raw sexuality of his words, but he wasn’t finished.

  “I’d kiss you over and over because I love the taste of you, but I’d have to play with those pretty, pretty breasts. I’d suck and lick and maybe even bite a little. You don’t mind teeth, do you, Grace?”

  A shake of her head, her skin flushed, the opulent scent of her arousal a drug.

  “Good.” He dropped his gaze to her breasts. “While I was fucking you slow and deep, so damn deep, I’d close my hand over one of your breasts, squeeze and pet. And you know what else?”

  “What?” A near-soundless question.

  “I’d look into your eyes the entire time.”

  • • •

  GRACE was having trouble thinking. Serious trouble. But she knew one thing: the lieutenant was using the addictive pleasure of intimate skin privileges to distract her. And doing a brilliant job of it. Arousal gripped her by the throat, turned her skin so sensitive that her clothes felt abrasive, the delicate flesh between her thighs plump and wet.

  So it was as well that her wolf danced away without warning, darkly conscious that the man she petted with such proprietary hands could overpower her in a heartbeat. How could she think of being naked in his arms when she couldn’t guarantee her submission would be a conscious, voluntary response, rather than being born of primitive instinct?

  “I’d look into your eyes the entire time.”

  What if all he saw was a submissive looking back at him, whimpering and quiescent, Grace’s human personality overwhelmed into obedience?

  Fear taking an icy hold on her heart, she stepped away. “Put on your T-shirt.” So she could concentrate, could think.

  Cooper growled.

  Jumping, she lowered her head. “Please.”

  “Damn it, Grace.” He wrenched on the tee, impatient and angry. “I wasn’t growling because you gave me an order. I was growling because I wasn’t done playing with you.”

  For some reason, that snarling response made her relax, chance a peek up. “Does sexual frustration always make you so bad tempered?”

  Another growl that had her wolf clawing at her to shut up.

  “Go on,” he said in a low tone that was a dare. “Keep on poking the hungry wolf, see how naked it gets you.”

  Heat burned her cheeks, but she wasn’t going to allow him to do this to her again. “Cooper, I’m not an idiot. I know something was bothering you when you knocked on the door.”

  He made a sound of teeth-gritting aggravation. “I was angry you took off without telling me, okay? Didn’t think you’d like it if I pointed it out.”

  It made sense…yet what she’d glimpsed had been far more violent an emotion, somehow old. Akin to the hurt she’d seen in his eyes at the site of the slip. “You don’t have to pretend around me,” she said, uncomfortable with shoving at his defenses but frustrated enough by his refusal to even acknowledge he was in pain that she had to make the attempt.

  “Grace, no male wants to further piss off an already pissed-off woman whom he has every intention of talking into bed as fast as possible.” He ran his hands over his scalp. “Goddamnit, now I’m yelling.”

  “So? I don’t want you to turn down the volume of your personality or your emotions,” she said, dismayed at the idea. “That’s not healthy on any level for you.” It would drive him slowly insane. “If that’s what you’re having to do when we’re together”—the thought hurt, so much—“you know it won’t work.”

  His growl raised every hair on her body. “It damn well will work.” The statement of a man used to getting what he wanted.

  Stubborn, infuriating male.

  She went to open her mouth to argue, but she’d pushed her wolf’s limits long enough. It clawed to the surface, wrenching the reins from her hands, and doing what it deemed necessary in order to pacify an angry dominant.

  A submissive whimper left her throat.

  Cooper froze.

  Chapter 8

  GRACE COLLAPSED TO her knees as the door closed behind Cooper, tremors quaking her frame.

  He’d cupped her cheek, rubbed his own against her temple with an affection that soothed some of her wolf’s panic, before saying, “Good night, Grace,” and leaving.

  It had happened exactly as she’d feared, her nature unable to stand the sheer, unleashed force of Cooper’s dominance. In her lupine form, she’d have tucked her tail between her legs, maybe even rolled over onto her back to expose the vulnerable flesh of her belly.


  Sobs escaped her mouth, filled her chest until she could hardly breathe.

  She was simply not built to handle the hot-blooded passions and brutal depth of emotion of a man of Cooper’s strength. Nothing could change the very makeup of her being. What if the next time it happened, they were in bed? What if Cooper was inside her?

  Then he’ll stop.

  The answer came from the tiny part of her that wasn’t a complete mess. And it was true. Cooper would always stop—as he’d done today. But that didn’t mean she had any right to put him in that position, any right to demand he muzzle the raw beauty of his sexuality, his personality. What she’d said, it was an absolute, unavoidable truth—for him to strangle his instincts would be a horribly damaging act.

  It would kill him and destroy her.

  “I don’t want to let him go.”

  The whispered confession was a slap.

  If she couldn’t bear to set him free, couldn’t bear to imagine another woman’s hands on his skin, another woman’s lips on his own, then she had to find a way to deal. But how?

  It was as she was washing her tear-ravaged face that she realized she had to talk to someone who’d been through this. Except no one had. Yes, she knew—was friends with—any number of submissives who’d mated with or lived in permanent loving relationships with dominants. Not one of those relationships, however, mirrored the extreme power gulf that separated her and Cooper.

  “There must be someone.”

  Determined to discover an answer, she was on her second cup of coffee when she remembered the woman who’d been her nursery school teacher while Grace lived in the Sierra Nevada den as a child. Twelve when her family shifted dens, she well remembered the lovely woman with the stunning indigo eyes who’d always had a hug and a word of praise for her long after she’d left the nursery.

  Tarah was a submissive not much stronger than Grace. Her mate, Abel, by contrast, was a very strong dominant, a soldier who held a senior position in the pack. One of their daughters was a lieutenant, the other a submissive close to Grace in the hierarchy. If anyone would understand the forces tearing Grace apart, it was Tarah.