Little Red and the Wolf

by Alison Paige

  “I know.” Her gaze snapped to his as though she’d just heard what he’d said. “You’re nervous?”

  “Oh. No. I meant…” He glanced at her. Something had changed in the way she looked at him. A softening of her eyes, the easy curve of her smile, as though he was suddenly more attractive to her. God help him, he liked the way she was looking at him.

  “Yeah,” he said. “A little. I guess. You?”

  She laughed and the tiny curls tickling the sides of her face swayed against her blushing cheeks. “Yeah. Me too.”

  He could smell the lavender scent of her shampoo, but he’d love to feel her flaming red hair in his hands, press it against his nose, inhale her, the very essence of her.

  Gray blinked. A quick shake of his head and he was out of the mental fantasy.

  “You okay?”

  He couldn’t stop his scowl. “Yes. I was just… How’s your sandwich?”

  She laughed again, light and happy. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s peanut butter. Kinda hard to screw that up.”

  “Yes. That’s true.” He tried to laugh, but he knew it’d sound forced.

  “It’s beautiful here. Y’know, I’ve heard teenagers in the area like to sneak up here to skinny-dip.”

  His attention riveted on her. “Have you?”

  “Me?” Her blush colored her face and raced down her neck beneath the round collar of her dress. Gray tracked the wash of color. Did it spread farther? Did it warm her breasts the way it did her cheeks? Did it warm between her thighs?

  “Well, yeah. Once or twice. But it was ages ago. Back when I lived at the cottage with Gran.”

  He didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. The memory of his dream, the reality of her swimming naked, the thoughts and images mixed like an erotic movie in his head.

  She took a sip of milk, leaving a thin white mustache lining her top lip when she finished. She licked her lips, but a faint milk line remained. “So why’d you bring me here? This is about Gran’s land, isn’t it? I’m at least right about that.”

  “Yes.” He swallowed, his gaze stuck on that line of milk tracing her lip. “I wanted you to see what’s at risk if your grandmother sells.”

  “But aren’t you the one trying to buy Granny’s land?”

  “No, Maizie. I don’t want Ester to sell to anyone.”

  “So then you’re not trying to seduce me?”

  Gray opened his mouth but realized he didn’t know the answer. He exhaled. Closed his mouth and looked away. His gaze landed on the pastry box, edges dented, still sitting between their plates.

  “You ever going to show me what’s in the box?” he asked. Not the smoothest topic switch, but it’d do.

  Maizie blinked, catching up. She straightened. “Oh. It’s…it’s nothing really. I thought I’d bring dessert.”

  She opened the box and the heavenly scent of chocolate wafted out.

  “Brownies?”

  “I hope you like walnuts,” she said.

  He smiled, she couldn’t know why. “I do. My mother used to make me brownies. She was a pretty fair baker in her own right. God, I loved helping her.”

  “You bake?”

  Gray snorted. “Hell no. What I did could never be described as baking. I measured. Stirred the occasional batter. Set the oven temperature. My specialty. Mostly I just watched her.”

  “You were close?”

  It’d been so long ago. Being a werewolf had extended his lifespan, which meant those memories were even further away. “Yes. We were very close. She passed away years ago, but I can still remember her gliding around the kitchen, gathering ingredients, preparing pans, mixing without ever looking at a recipe. She moved like she was drifting on a cloud. Never a mistake.”

  “Did your dad help too?”

  Gray scoffed. “No. My father was of the belief that men were men and real men didn’t enter a kitchen except to inform their wife what they wanted for dinner.”

  “Wow. How very nineteen fifties of him.”

  She was closer than she realized, but Gray kept the information to himself. “Right. A real men-don’t-cry kind of guy. Didn’t matter. I had her. Those hours spent alone with my mother while she baked set me free. I could tell her anything, my fears, my heartbreaks, my dreams, and she never thought less of me. Never made me feel ashamed for not being tough as steel all the time. I…miss that.”

  “I know what you mean. Used to bake with my mom too. She made the best chocolate cake. After she passed away, I used to sit in the kitchen for hours with my eyes closed, imagining I could still smell that sweet fresh-baked scent. It was like she was still with me.”

  An invisible band squeezed around Gray’s chest. Memories of the night Maizie had lost her mother flashed through his mind. He pushed them away.

  “It’s stupid,” she said. “But that’s a big part of why I love baking. Makes me feel like she’s still around. Twisted, huh?”

  He reached out, brushed the milk, still a moist line above her lip, away with his thumb. Dear God, her lips were as soft as they looked. His hand slipped along her cheek. “No. It’s incredibly loving. I’m sure she’d be proud of you.”

  Maizie’s eyes darkened at his touch. She licked her lip, tracing where his thumb had been. “Maybe we could get together some time and you could, uh, measure for me.”

  She laughed and the sound tickled along his skin, made his heart skip.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Yeah. It’d be nice to share that with someone who, y’know, gets it.” Her smile flickered, her eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears.

  His heart squeezed, muscles going tight wanting to gather her into his arms. Without thinking, his hand slipped to the nape of her neck, pulled her to him. His gaze flicked from those soft lips to her eyes just in time to see them flutter closed, and he took her mouth with his.

  Little Red. Jeezus, it wasn’t just the wolf in him that wanted to gobble her up.

  Chapter Six

  She felt the kiss. Everywhere. Any fleeting thought she’d had of refusing him vanished. Emotions clogged her throat, thoughts of her mother, missing her, missing the comfort and safety of her parents, danced over her heart. Gray understood what she’d lost. He understood what she needed. She couldn’t refuse him, even if she’d wanted to.

  His lips were strong, but so soft. His tongue traced along her bottom lip, teased her tongue, coaxing it into his mouth. And when she slipped it through his lips, he actually made a noise like a purr. The sound vibrated through her body straight down to her sex.

  His big hand cupped the back of her neck, kept her pressed to his lips. The position was awkward, leaning over her bent legs. She didn’t care. This felt too wonderful. Tingles rippled over her skin from head to toe, her body warmed so fast she felt flushed.

  One hand braced on the table, she reached the other to his cheek. He’d looked clean-shaven but she could still feel the coarse texture of fresh growth beneath her fingers. His cologne filled her nose, sweet, manly, mixed with the earthier scents of nature. Intoxicating. She breathed him in, let the smell of him make her dizzy.

  She could taste a hint of scotch on his kiss. Together with his scent and the fast rush of her pulse, it was all Maizie could do not to swoon in his arms.

  She shifted, pushing up to her knees and he rewarded her with a harder, stronger kiss. It was so easy, the kiss, the desire. Her body seemed to recognize his touch, warm at the very possibility of it. On her knees, she was a bit taller than him and his hand slipped from her neck to her waist. Still he pulled her to him, as though she’d never be close enough.

  Holding her, his free hand smoothed over her ribs to her breast. Maizie’s breath caught even before his palm cupped her, before his fingers squeezed. Every muscle in her body worked for more, more pleasure, more sensation, more.

  A quiver tickled through her belly. Her thighs trembled, the muscles in her sex pulsed, flexing wet and needy. She wanted to straddle him, to press her
pussy against him, to make it clear what he did to her, what he made her want. What he made her need. The dress was too tight, she’d been lucky to get to her knees.

  His hand massaged her breast, found her nipple hard and wanting. He toyed with it, coaxed it to harden more, to press undeniably through the fabric of her bra and dress. Maizie moaned and leaned into his touch, her hips pressing her groin against his chest. She didn’t care where they were, who he was, what he’d done. She wanted him. Now. Filling the emptiness between her legs.

  His fingers pinched hard so Maizie threw her head back, gasping. She arched her back and felt his mouth hot and wet through her dress, his teeth nipping the pebbled nub. Her body curved the other way, arms circling his neck, cradling his head against her chest.

  Gray scrambled to his knees, gathering her into his arms, pressing her whole body to his. The hard line of his cock through his pants pushed against her thigh, teased her mercilessly. He took her mouth again, frantic, hungry. The finesse of his first kiss lost to an explosion of passion.

  One arm around her back, he dropped the other hand to her ass. He squeezed, hard, lifted her, pressed her pussy against his cock. His want of her was clear, as clear as her own.

  She tried to spread her legs wider, but the dress caught at her thighs. It wouldn’t give and she couldn’t get her hands down to hike it up.

  “Too many damn clothes.” She’d mumbled it into his mouth, though it barely registered in her brain. The next instant everything changed. Gray’s whole body went stiff. His lips pulled from hers.

  “Jeezus.” He was breathless, still holding her flush to his body. “What the fuck am I doing?”

  Maizie opened her eyes. He looked horrified, his pale eyes scanning her face, brow tight, as though searching for some shred of understanding. He released her and got to his feet so fast she nearly fell over from the force of it.

  Gray paced the rug, wiped her kiss from his lips with the back of his hand, then roughly shoved his long waving bangs from his face. He held his hips, storming back and forth, eyes down, scowl set.

  Was it something she’d said? What did she say? Maizie’s lust-drunk mind raced to untangle the mystery. Bewildered, she sat back on her pillow, her hand wiping the wetness rimming her bottom lip. The brush of her finger tingled along her mouth, her whole body too sensitive for idle touches. What had happened?

  “That’s not why I brought you here.” Gray didn’t look at her. He kept pacing. “I’m…sorry.”

  “Sorry?” For what? Kissing her senseless or stopping?

  He stopped, his angry eyes slamming into hers. “Yes. Of course I’m sorry. You didn’t think I wanted that…”

  He must have read something in her expression, disappointment, embarrassment, doubt. He seemed to rethink his words. “I didn’t mean… Hell. Obviously, I wanted… I mean, I’m the one who… Dammit, Maizie, something about you makes me…mindless.” His gaze softened, hoped.

  Maizie forced a smile, not big, but the best she could muster. She could accept “mindless”. It was better than “sorry”.

  Gray grunted at their unspoken truce and started pacing again. “This should’ve been a simple thing. Textbook. A picnic lunch. Seductively understated. All the women’s favorites. A little harmless flirting to get her seeing things my way. I didn’t expect to like…”

  Maizie shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Mission accomplished.”

  “What?” Gray stopped, looked to her.

  “If all this was to try and convince me not to coax Granny to sell her land, then you’ve been seducing the willing. So to speak.”

  He blushed and looked away for a moment, but rallied quickly. “Easy enough to say, but everyone has a price, Maizie. What’s yours?”

  She tried not to feel insulted. Maizie knew the kind of man Gray Lupo was. A wheeler and dealer, a playboy, wealthy, powerful, he got what he wanted no matter the means, no matter the little redhead who got caught in his way. The glimpse of the tender-hearted Gray, the boy who loved spending time with his mother, the man who shared her pleasure, was gone.

  She was insulted. She was hurt. And it was taking too much damn energy to deny. She stiffened, let her temper boil over her wounded pride. “My price? My grandmother’s happiness. If she wants the land, wants to protect that pushy wolf that runs around up here, then I’ll keep the land.”

  He blanched. She didn’t care why. “If she wants to sell every last square foot, then I’ll sell it all tomorrow. I’ll do what I have to do to make her feel secure.”

  Maizie pushed to her feet, smoothing her dress. “I’ll let my shop go bankrupt. I’ll move back into that isolated cottage. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re not pretending to be my dead father, trying to convince Granny to sell the one thing that means the world to her.”

  She took a breath, tried to calm the anger and hurt that shook down her arms. She fisted her hands. “So you see, Mr. Lupo, my price is simple and nonnegotiable. Happy?”

  She folded her arms under her chest, chin high. Her belly rolled and pitched, her knees were shaking and a flood of tears clogged at the back of her throat, but damn him if she’d let any of that show.

  Gray met her gaze, his hands still propped on his hips, jacket snagged behind his wrists. Silence settled between them like a referee calling a time-out.

  His nostrils flared with each breath, his muscled chest swelling and shrinking. A soft wind fluttered the ends of his hair over his collar as his gaze traveled down her body. The study was so intense she could almost feel its path. She’d swear he was pissed. Who wouldn’t be after that tirade? But the look in his eyes, the heat, that wasn’t anger.

  He growled, his hands dropping from his hips. “Hell with it.”

  His long strides ate the ground between them in a blur. All at once she was in his arms, scooped up against his hard chest, one hand around her waist, the other behind her head. And then he froze.

  His warm breath bathed her lips, so close she could imagine the feel of his kiss. But he didn’t kiss her. He stood, holding her. After a heavy moment, pregnant with anticipation, Maizie squirmed.

  Gray’s arms tightened around her. “Sshh.”

  She met his gaze, his eyes distant for a moment before they focused on hers. He didn’t say a word, but she understood the meaning in his look. He wanted her to listen. Something wasn’t right. They weren’t alone.

  Maizie straightened, pushing from Gray’s embrace. She kept her eyes on him, but her mind searched her senses, listening, smelling, tasting the air.

  A snap of twig off to the left, then a rustle of leaves farther over. The hairs at the back of her neck bristled, invisible fingers thrumming down her back, icing her spine. “What is it?”

  “The pack. Wolves. They think it’s a game, but they’re too upset. It’s not safe. Things could get out of hand.”

  “Well, let’s go back to the car.” She turned to leave, but he caught her arm, pulled her back.

  “We won’t make it. My house is closer. They’ll think clearer there.”

  “Who?”

  Gray caught her chin between his fingers, brought her gaze to his. “Stay with me. You’ll be fine. Don’t look back. Don’t look around.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t. Just…trust me.” His voice was soft and steady, utterly confident. She let the sound of it wash over her, calm the jittery nerves tingling her muscles, edging an instinctive panic.

  Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached down and took her hand, his big palm swallowing hers, his fingers holding tight and firm. The simple touch did more for her than any drug. She was safe. No matter what.

  Without another word, he turned and used his full long stride to lead them into the forest. Barefoot, their pace never faltered, yet remarkably each step found soft pliable ground.

  The paths she’d always been so aware of were nowhere to be seen. Gray made his own way, somehow slicing through low branches, tumbled trees and prickly brier patches without effort. Wit
hout pain. The forest floor should be rough against her feet. It wasn’t. Why?

  They were moving fast, Gray’s strides a half step longer than hers, but she managed to keep up with little effort. Her body was light, easily pulled and turned like a kite on a string. On either side of her the trees blurred, the forest becoming a smear of green, flashes of light, a tangle of browns.

  Wind hissed past her ears, raking through her hair so the loose bun tumbled free, strands snagging on branches. She kept moving. It wasn’t hard. Like a drop of water tumbling down a river, a part of the whole but separate. The scents and sounds of the forest cascaded over her, honeysuckle, a crow’s caw, pine sap, a burrowing rabbit. Everything mixed and melted into her, through her, around her. She was the forest, every bit of it, and the forest was her—one and the same.

  And then they stopped.

  She nearly rammed her nose into his shoulder. She held his arm for a moment, her head against his back, waiting for her mind, for the world, for time itself to catch up. She peered over his shoulder.

  “What the hell was that?” she asked. “Felt like we were doing some low flying. That’s not possible. Right?”

  Gray glanced over his shoulder at her. “I’ll explain later. Okay?”

  He looked worried, or like he had bigger things to worry about at the moment and he hoped she wouldn’t add to it by insisting on answers. She could do that. For now.

  They both turned back to the mansion?

  Maizie blinked, her brain struggling to reconcile what she thought possible and what her eyes were seeing before her. “No way. Cherri was right. You do have a mansion hidden in the forest.”

  Three stories tall, the size of a small hotel, the huge gray-stone monolith was nevertheless dwarfed by the surrounding forest. Maizie glanced behind them, the forest’s edge was at least ten feet back, dense and shadowed. She could imagine walking within feet of the clearing to Gray’s yard and not seeing the enormous mansion through the foliage.

  Gray tugged her hand and Maizie stumbled after him up the cascade of stone stairs to his patio. Three enormous glass doors opened the lower portion of the house to the patio and offered a clear view into the room beyond.