Lycan Heat

by S. K. Yule

  “What is your name?”

  “Piers Kavanagh. What is your last name?”

  “Denton.” Piers. Just like in her dream. This whole ordeal was getting stranger by the minute. “Can I call my sister when we get to the motel?”

  “We’ll see.” When she didn’t take his offered hand, he reached for hers anyway and began tugging her along behind him as he guided them through the dark trees.

  “Can we go a bit slower, please?” It was hard for her to keep up with his long gait, and she was already exhausted from her blind run through the woods.

  “Sorry.” His shoulders stiffened, and he slowed down a bit.

  For some strange reason, she believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt her, but she still didn’t want to be alone with him. When he touched her, she didn’t want him to stop. She’d have to keep her guard up around him. He wasn’t for her. He was too big, too intimidating...too everything. He might not physically hurt her, but she had a feeling he could hurt her in other ways, ways that could destroy her—ways that included breaking her heart.

  She felt a strong connection to him, but lust didn’t equate to love, and he didn’t strike her as the falling in love sort. He was undoubtedly skilled in the bedroom, could probably show her pleasure like she’d never known existed, but in the end, he’d leave her. And in the end, he’d take her heart with him. She didn’t know how she was so certain that she could easily fall in love with him, but some sixth sense and the way her lips still tingled from his kiss told her it was so.

  The whole thing was puzzling. She should be repulsed by him, yet when he touched her, all she could think about was his mouth on her, all over her, her mouth on him…all over him.

  * * * *

  He sat on the edge of the bed, every muscle tense as he listened to Sherry talk on the phone. He was impressed with the way she stayed calm for her sister’s sake.

  “I’m okay, Janine. Yes. No. He hasn’t hurt me.”

  He couldn’t do this. She was going to end up hating him if he forced her to stay with him. He couldn’t just let her walk away, though, yet maybe if he let her, she’d trust him. Maybe if he took her back to Sanctuary, she’d give him a chance. He wanted to tell her she was his mate and explain to her how important she was to him. He needed to assure her that he’d never intended for them to meet like this.

  The things she’d said about the confrontation at Sanctuary involving his brother was another problem. Had her sister been telling her the truth about what happened that night? If his brother had threatened Raze, Brent or Anthony’s mates in any way, his death was justified. Hell, even if he hadn’t threatened the women but attacked any of the men, they had also been within their rights to defend themselves.

  Why hadn’t he bothered to confront Anthony about the situation? Why hadn’t he dug a little deeper before putting so much faith into the words of a rogue pack?

  The answer was simple—misguided, but simple. He hadn’t wanted to believe his brother had gone so astray. If Daniel had done what Sherry said, it would have been too late to save him. Piers would still have tried, but not at the cost of others. He’d wanted a family so badly, his narrow-mindedness had blinded him, and he’d never bothered to consider that his brother had deserved his fate.

  The scenario Sherry painted made much more sense. Anthony was an ancient like he was, and Piers wouldn’t kill for no reason. If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit Anthony probably didn’t either. He’d really fucked up this time, and his mate was stuck in the middle of a mess he’d created. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely sorry that she’d been there because had she not, he might have killed an innocent man. Unfortunately, none of it relieved the pain of losing the family he’d yearned for for so long.

  He made a decision and grabbed the phone from her.

  “Hey!” She grabbed for his hand, but he gently swatted her away and put his ear to the phone.

  “I’ll bring her back tomorrow.”

  “If you’ve hurt her—”

  “I haven’t hurt her, nor will I.” Sherry’s sister obviously loved her, and he couldn’t fault her for that. “She’ll be back by sundown tomorrow.” He clicked the phone off before she could respond and tossed it onto the nightstand.

  “Did you mean it?” Sherry sat with her mouth open, staring at him.

  “I don’t lie.” He was already regretting the decision to return her. He needed her and would never willingly let her disappear from his life, but he cared for her enough to try to do the whole relationship routine. He wanted to do right by her.

  She was young and innocent and he…wasn’t. When he claimed her, he wouldn’t do so like a gentle, unschooled boy. His instincts would win out, and he would possess her. He would never hurt her, but he doubted the restraint he’d be able to apply the first time he took her. He needed her to trust him, to know he wouldn’t harm her no matter how out of control he got.

  Maybe he should just walk away from her. She was too small, too delicate. He’d never be what she needed. Anger scorched him, and he fought the urge to put his fist through the wall.

  “Why are you letting me go?”

  “Because I can admit when I’ve made a mistake.”

  “So you believe me about what happened with your brother?”

  “Let’s just say that now that I’ve gotten two sides of the story, I’m coming to some different, however difficult, conclusions.”

  “I can’t imagine what it was like to lose your brother. If something happened to Janine, I’d be devastated, especially after losing our parents.”

  “I didn’t even know him.” He shook his head. “I had just hoped—”

  “Hoped what?”

  “Nothing. Just forget it. In fact, by this time tomorrow, you can forget all of this ever happened.”

  “Piers, I—”

  He held his hand up to stop her words. He wasn’t ready for this conversation. He’d just realized how wrong he’d probably been about his brother, and he didn’t want to wallow in self pity or cry like a woman. He was a man, and he would suck it up and move on.

  “I’m taking a shower.” He wasn’t afraid she’d run again. He had the keys to the Jeep and she had no idea where they were. Besides, if she did, he’d have no trouble tracking her down.

  He closed the door after entering the small but clean bathroom. He pulled his clothes off, folded them, and laid them on the counter. Thankfully, the shower was decent and the water was hot. Once he stepped into the steamy stall, he realized he should have made it cold. One thought of their kiss in the forest made his cock rock hard. He could still feel her hesitation as his mouth had taken hers, and then her blissful surrender when she’d melted against him.

  He circled his shaft and brought himself to quick, unsatisfying relief. He hoped to God he could make it through the night without taking her. All he could think about was thrusting into her hot, wet flesh, of how she’d close around him as he sank into her. He cursed under his breath and shut off the water. He dried and wrapped the towel around his hips before opening the bathroom door.

  She gasped when he walked back into the room, and he grunted. “Sorry. I didn’t exactly bring anything to sleep in as I wasn’t expecting to stay overnight anywhere.” It wouldn’t have mattered anyway since his usual sleep attire was nothing but his skin.

  He was on edge, and his dick was getting hard again as he watched her eyes roam over his body. He turned his back to her, trying to block the insanity of black need threatening to wipe out his willpower.

  “Oh my! You have a tattoo.”

  “Mm hm.” He nodded as he stared out the window. The wind had picked up and the trees that lined the back of the parking lot were swaying back and forth.

  * * * *

  Good Lord. The man was a tank, and his back was a breathtaking spectacle. She hadn’t understood the appeal of tattoos in the past, but the black wolf splayed across his back was exquisite. Its head was ensconced between his shoulder blades,
and its body ran the entire length of his back, ending just before it dipped under the towel wrapped around his hips. Its eyes were the same golden brown color as Piers’ and held the same eerie glow his had in the woods. And even though she was aware the tattoo was not alive, it watched her as if it were stalking her and waiting for the precise moment she let her guard down to pounce.

  For some reason, maybe because of the way the wolf appeared to move over the play of muscle on Piers’ back, she was drawn to it. Whoever inked him was one talented artist. She didn’t think a wolf in the wild could look any more lifelike. Without thinking, she slid off the bed and moved closer to him. When her fingers touched his skin, he sucked in a sharp breath and she snatched her hand back, letting it hover a scant inch from the tantalizing beast. When she looked up, the intensity of Piers’ gaze burned back at her from the reflection of the glass in the window. His muscles bunched, but otherwise, he remained perfectly still. Her hand trembled, but she couldn’t help but continue her exploration of the wolf.

  “This is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen,” she whispered in awe as she stroked fur that looked so real she was sure it would tickle her fingers.

  Her mouth went dry as she traced along the sculpted muscles that ran the length of Piers’ back. What was it about this man that made her want to touch him? Why did she not find some of the stronger traits he possessed displeasing? In the past they had been big turn-offs in other men she’d met. The dominance that radiated off him like a second skin, his six and a half foot intimidating frame, the intense, predatory, and unashamed way he watched her, and his obvious ease with nature. For some reason, in this particular man, every one of those things sparked a flame of curiosity inside her that burned brighter with each passing minute she spent with him.

  Her brain and body were locked in a silent battle. One warned her to avoid him at all cost and the other longed for him to touch her again. Her fingers traced the edge of the towel that rode low over his tight butt, while her naughty side—a side that rarely showed itself until now—urged her to continue downward. She resisted the journey her fingers begged to take, but couldn’t deny that he truly was remarkable.

  The top of her head barely came to the bottom of his thick shoulder blades, but she wasn’t intimidated. In fact, she felt utterly feminine around him and peculiarly safe. He’d said he wouldn’t hurt her, and while, at first, she hadn’t been sure if she could believe him or not, he had promised to return her to her sister tomorrow. Not to mention that she had a hard time denying the truth of the words he spoke in the woods after he’d caught her. If he was going to harm her, he’d had plenty of opportunities to do so. She realized something else. She wasn’t feeling her usual anxiety from being so far away from Janine. It was as if nothing in the world could possibly harm her or her loved ones while he was near. But why?

  His scent was intoxicating and drew her as honey drew bees, and she leaned closer. If she followed the urge and allowed herself to get closer to him, would she end up the innocent lamb led to slaughter? His skin radiated heat, and the longing pulsing through her that begged she kiss his back blocked out all images of lambs, slaughter, and wolves.

  “Piers?”

  “Sherry, if you don’t stop touching me, I’m going to toss you on that bed and make love to you until we both pass out from exhaustion.” His voice came low and laced with promise.

  The mysterious spell he had on her lifted at his words, and she was appalled at what she’d been doing. “I-I’m so sorry.” She started to back away. “I didn’t mean to—”

  He spun around, circled her wrists with his long fingers, and drew her to him. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to understand that you keep me teetering on the edge of control. I’m trying hard not to scare you, but I won’t lie. I’d like nothing better than to slide into you and ride you until you scream my name.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her cheeks heated, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to him, especially now that she was faced with his incredible chest. God, he was ripped like no other. No man had ever been this forward with her. She’d dated mostly sweet, shy men, and Piers was neither sweet nor shy.

  “Yes, you do.” He pressed her palms to his chest and held them to him. “You can feel the pull between us just as I can. There’s no use denying it. You proved you felt it in the woods when I kissed you. You responded to me in the cave as well. You wanted me even if you aren’t willing to admit it out loud.”

  How could he possibly know about the cave? It had been a dream. What the hell was going on here? She backed away from him and when he took a step toward her, she shook her head. He stopped instantly. She needed time to think.

  She turned and ran to the bathroom. After locking the door—a door he could probably knock down with little effort—she slid down in front of it until her butt hit the floor. She couldn’t think of any logical reason that he would know about her dream. She stood back up on shaky legs, peeled her clothes off, and started the shower. Maybe the soothing, hot water would help her come up with an explanation—one that wouldn’t freak the shit out of her.

  She stood under the hot spray trying to understand his knowledge of the dream, but soon the only thing she was thinking about was that he’d been in the same shower only a few minutes ago. Flashes of his naked, wide back, the wolf, and beads of water dripping down his shoulders, over his chest and sliding over his six pack abs made her hot, achy and confused. He was right. She did want him.

  Chapter Eight

  She’d been standing in front of the door staring at it for at least twenty minutes now. She didn’t want to go back out there with Piers. She’d taken as long as humanly possible showering, washing her underwear out, drying her hair, and putting her clothes back on. She’d contemplated washing them out too, but didn’t think it was a good idea to go traipsing around in front of him with only a towel. If she had the same impact on him he’d had on her in just a towel, there would be trouble—fireworks shooting off, screaming for mercy, hot sex kind of trouble.

  Just the thought of his hard body on display for her made her pulse race. She could imagine how delicious he would feel against her, skin to skin, mouth to mouth. Her cheeks turned hot. What was wrong with her? Why did he have such an effect on her?

  He scared her. He intrigued her. He made her feel things she didn’t understand. He unsettled her, but…she kind of liked it. His predatory swagger called to her, mocked her with the promise of the pleasure she instinctively knew he could bring her. And his hands...she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. His big hands had been gentle, had known exactly how to caress her. He made her burn.

  She took a deep breath and yanked the door open with more force than she’d intended. She found him sitting on the edge of the bed eating a miniature bag of cookies. She’d thought the bed to be fairly big until now. With him on it, it looked pretty small. She was thankful he’d pulled his jeans back on, although they sat almost as low as the towel had on his hips, and he’d left the top button undone.

  “There is some food on the table by the window. It’s not much. Vending machine crap, but it’s all I could find. Better than nothing.” He tipped the bag of cookies up to his mouth and tapped the rest of the crumbs from the bottom.

  “Thanks.” She was hungry. She walked to the table where several bags of chips, cookies, crackers, candy bars and four cans of soda were scattered about. She opened a soda, set it back down after taking a long drink, and opened a pack of peanut butter crackers. She was hungrier that she thought and finished one pack and part of another before drinking the rest of the soda.

  She looked over at the chair in the corner and made her way toward it, but he caught her wrist as she tried to pass him.

  “No.”

  “I’m not sleeping in that bed with you.” She tried to pull free, but he held her firmly.

  “Why not?” One dark brow quirked up.

  “You know why.” She wanted to stomp her foot like a small, furio
us child.

  He tugged her slowly toward him until she was standing between his knees. His legs closed around her thighs and imprisoned her while he skimmed the back of his fingers up her neck and cupped her cheek. She was eye level with him now that he was sitting, and his intense gaze burned through her as if he could see into her soul.

  “Yes. I know why, but I’m too big to sleep on that tiny chair, and you aren’t going to.”

  When she started to protest, he placed one long finger over her lips. “How about I make you a deal? Hmm? I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

  She wasn’t sure that was a good idea either as she didn’t trust herself around him. Even now, standing this close to him, that’s exactly what she wanted him to do—touch her. Her doubt must have shown clearly on her face.

  “I’ll sleep on the damn floor then.” He released her and stood.

  “No.” When he reached for a pillow, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “That’s not fair. I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.” She could be an adult about this. “I’ll sleep under the covers and you can sleep on top, and stay on your side.”

  His predatory smile, which flashed her a good amount of even, white teeth did little to soothe her worries. She snuggled under the covers and he lay in the bed beside her. His shoulders were so wide he was nearly touching her. She slid a surreptitious glance his way, and the sight of him made her lungs struggle to drag in breaths. She’d made a big mistake by letting him sleep beside her.

  He was stretched out on his back, his feet dangling off the end of the bed, and his fingers linked behind his head. He was massive, and the heat that radiated off his skin sank into her body invitingly. She could imagine how nice it would be to cuddle up against all that warmth.

  “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I might forget my promise.” He turned his head and met her stare. “Or do you want me to forget my promise?”