by Susan Bliler
As if she’s heard his thoughts, Hillary blushed hard and lowered her head. “I’ll start you a hot shower.”
Hurriedly, she pushed to her a feet and made to leave the room, stopping to rifle through his drawers and pull him out a pair of clean boxers and fresh sleeping pants. He nearly growled at the sight. Something about her in his home, caring for him, felt so damn right that he couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to have her with him forever. The thought so close after battle made it impossible to hold back his growl, which grew louder and louder until it rattled his chest.
“Mo?” Hillary called from the bathroom. “Showers on.”
Wearily, he shoved up off the cot. He’d love nothing more than to just fall over and go to sleep, but he was covered in blood, sweat, and grit. He needed a shower something fierce.
Entering the bathroom, it irked him when Hillary skirted around him, leaving the room before quietly closing the door behind her. It took all his will not to storm out into the bedroom, grab her, and haul her into the shower with him.
Gods! He shouldn’t have even thought on it. Once he’d stripped and stood under the stinging spray of the shower, the only thing he could think of was pressing Hillary against the shower wall, her legs wrapped around him as he buried himself fully inside her.
At the mental image, his balls drew up and a snarl left his lips. Closing his eyes, he reached down and fisted his cock, imagining his tight grip was Hillary’s slick, wet, heat wrapped around him. She was tight, he knew it now and had to tighten his grip so it actually felt like it was her he was tunneling into instead of his own hand. Quickly, his hand worked down his length and back. His shuddering breath sent steam rolling in front of his face. Hillary. His hand pumped faster as he imagined her tiny hands clinging to his shoulders, her head tossed back exposing the satiny column of her throat in a show of ultimate submission as he impaled her.
He imagined the sounds she’d make, the soft mewls of pleasure that’d tear from her throat like they did whenever he was inside her. It was when he thought on how she liked to cry out his name as she climaxed that his body tensed and he sprayed his own release onto the shower floor. A few more strokes and he was fully spent.
Muscles like warm jelly, he wasn’t sure he’d even have the energy to dry off before crashing onto his hard ass cot.
A soft knock at the door startled him from his thoughts.
“Modess? You alright?”
“Yeah. Be out in a minute.”
Looking down, he shook his head before grabbing a bottle of body wash and squirting it into his palm to work into a lather before getting himself cleaned up. Absently, he wondered what Hillary would think if she could see him in this state. Granted, it was her fault. Sexy little wolf. There’s no way it was possible that any man had ever wanted to fuck a woman as badly as he wanted to fuck Hillary right now.
Sighing, he rinsed and quickly towel dried before donning his clothes and stepping into the bedroom. The bedside lamp was on and Hillary was sitting up in bed. She was wearing that sexy ass night gown that showed too much skin and he instantly got hard again. There was no hope of stifling the growl that wrenched its way up his throat.
“Modess,” she spoke quietly before turning and peeling down the blankets on the other side of the bed. “Why don’t we share the bed tonight?” Her words were shy and she had no idea what she was doing to him right now. “I mean,” she rushed to add, “I know you’re going to be sore from the fight and you’re too stubborn to let me take the cot, so why don’t we share? No strings.”
Brows spearing down, Modess stalked toward the cot deciding honesty was the best policy. “I’m worked up, Cupcake. My wolf is clawing at my insides. If I climb in that bed with you, the last thing we’re doing is sleeping.”
Jerking back the blanket on his cot, his body went rod straight when Hillary muttered quietly, “That’s okay with me.”
Whirling on her with a fierce scowl, Modess barked, “What?”
Nervously, Hillary looked down at the sheets in her hand before lifting her head and meeting his eye. “I said,” she spoke loudly, “that’s okay with me.”
“Me climbing in bed with you and fucking you until neither one of us can walk is okay with you? Even though you’re not in heat?”
Her bottom lip sucked into her mouth, but she nodded.
Both large hands lifted in a blur as he fisted his own hair. “Jesus, woman. Tonight was big. It was a battle on multiple fronts and you feel like the fucking prize.” Lowering his hands he kept himself cemented in place. “I’m not talking about just fucking, Hillary. I’m talking about claiming. I’m talking about forever.”
Timidly, she nodded and that pulled his brows into a deeper frown.
“Why?” he hurled at her. “Because I spared your Alpha? Because I helped your pack?” He jammed a finger toward the bedroom door. “A few hours ago you were ready to leave here. Now, out of some misguided sense of gratitude you’re offering yourself to me?” He was angrier than he should have been, but damn her for teasing him with forever. “Another favor for your Alpha? Am I just another sacrifice you’re willing to make for the good of your pack?” he snarled turning his back on her. “No thanks! I’m not a charity case. I don’t want a mate that way.”
He was jerking his covers down on his bed and he punched his pillow once for good measure when the sound of his bedroom door opening drew his attention. Hillary was halfway out the door when she stopped. She didn’t turn and face him, but he could scent her turmoil and it gutted him. He’d thrown her offer in her face, but she should have known better. He was too proud to accept her on those terms.
“Hours,” she breathed, still facing away from him, but he could hear the tears in her voice. “I was locked in that fucking pantry for hours and all I could think about was if something happened to you. I didn’t care about Michael, didn’t care about my pack. I threw my body at that door until it hurt to do so, until I couldn’t even stand.”
His eyes dropped to her arm and he saw a giant bruise from her shoulder all the way down to her elbow.
“All I could think about was you dying in battle over me. Just the thought of you hurt somewhere…” Her words trailed off. When she spoke again, it was so quiet that even with his shifter hearing he nearly missed it. “It wasn’t a pity offer.”
The door clicked closed behind her as she left and Modess fisted his hair again, tilting his head back as a mighty roar left him. Why? Why was he always fucking shit up with her? Looking around for something to punch, he settled on the wall right in front of him. His fist smashed into the wall and sheetrock rained down on his cot. Drawing in deep breaths to calm himself, the scent of fresh air had him tensing and his instincts on high alert. His ears pricked and he heard crickets chirping better than he had before. Jerking his door open, he rushed the stairs and hurried down to find the front door wide open. Oh, no! He shook his head. She wasn’t running from him. Not this time!
Clad only in his low slung cotton pants, Modess raced out of the house, his eyes searching the darkness for his prey. There! He caught just the faintest flash of her white night gown, and it was all he needed.
Hillary was hurrying through the dark, headed in the direction of the cabin he’d initially assigned her.
“HEY!” he bellowed. When Hillary turned and saw him over her shoulder, she didn’t stop. Nope, in fact she started running. “DON’T RUN FROM ME!” Modess called more firmly, but Hillary ignored him. Damn woman! Clearly she had no idea what her offer, coupled with her declaration that it wasn’t out of pity but a legit proposal, was doing to him. Worse, she was running and now his animal was all in. He snorted as he doubled his pace, internally chastising his wolf. As if you weren’t in it from the jump!
Hillary disappeared into the guest cabin and Modess was already mentally assigning repair duty because the front door was coming off those fucking hinges!
Chapter 27
“HEY!”
Modess’ voice behind her
had Hillary startling hard. Turning, she saw him coming fast, and there was no way in hell she was facing him right now. She’d just thrown herself at him only to have him decline. It was humiliating. A fresh wave of tears hit her and she took off running. She refused to let Modess see her like this. She was blubbering like an idiot and sure most of it was because of how he’d just treated her, but it wouldn’t have bothered her so much if she wasn’t so emotionally raw. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told him that she’d been in that damn pantry sick with worry. She’d thought the worst and then cried so damn hard once she realized there was no escaping, no going to Modess’ aid. Hell, she’d cried herself to sleep and now she had an emotional headache pounding just behind her eyes. She desperately needed a minute—hell, a night—before she faced him again. She needed to steel herself, collect herself at the very least because right now, she was too damn fragile.
Taking the front stairs two at a time, she knew it wasn’t very lady-like in her stupid satiny night gown, but getting away was more important.
Her cabin was just as she left it, but she didn’t stop to study it. Slamming the door behind her, she locked it and then dead bolted it before turning and racing to her old room.
As soon as she entered the room, she slammed to a halt. A giant bed set nestled in the corner of the room and her mouth fell open as a thousand questions blasted through her mind. How? When? Why didn’t he bring me back?
“HILLARY!”
His angry bellow had her jerking from her immobile state. Turning, she slammed her bedroom door closed and locked it too, though she knew for certain that if Modess breached the front, the flimsy lock on her bedroom door would be useless.
Outside, she heard him yell, “HILLARY, IN FIVE SECONDS, I’M KICKING THIS DOOR IN! YOU BETTER BE FAR AWAY FROM IT!”
Scanning her room for a weapon she found none, not that a weapon would do any good. Crossing to the window, she jerked it open and stuck her head out, looking down. It wasn’t that far of a drop, maybe seven feet. She could make that.
She had one leg out the window when she heard the front door crash open. When she turned to look at her bedroom door, she slipped from the window. A scream ripped from her throat as she fell.
Hitting the ground hard, all the air left her in a whoosh and tears flooded her eyes at the pain in her arm. She’d landed on the same arm she’d used as a battering ram in the pantry and now it hurt so damn bad that she couldn’t tell if she wasn’t able to catch her breath from the fall or the pain. Sucking in a breath to force air into her lungs, she scrambled to her feet and nearly cried out at the pain.
Inside, Modess boomed, “Hillary!”
Without waiting, she turned and half-ran, half-limped back toward his house. She knew he always left his keys in his truck because not only was he Alpha, he was a bad son of a bitch and nobody with brains in their head would dare take his truck. No one, but her.
Halfway to his house, she heard him yelling in her cabin, threatening to kick in her bedroom door and telling her to get away from it. She’d just opened the driver’s side door of his truck when she heard a crash in her old cabin. Whether Modess had just kicked in the door or whether he was trashing the place because he realized she wasn’t there, she didn’t know. She sure as shit wasn’t waiting around to find out.
Climbing in took too much damn effort and by the time she hit the button to lock all the doors and reached out to start the truck, the pain in her bad arm was drowned out by a sudden adrenaline dump.
Hands shaking, she hit the gas. Behind her, dirt and grass flew as the truck spun in a half-circle before she righted it. Briefly, the headlights flashed toward her cabin and she saw Modess barreling toward her. A scream left her throat as she aimed the truck for the road and pushed harder on the pedal.
Once she was on the road, she pushed the truck dangerously faster and only glanced once in the rearview mirror. It was too dark to see anything, but when a lone wolf’s howl rose on the night air, goosebumps erupted across her body.
It was him, she knew it.
More wolf howls filled the night air and now she was terrified. She, an outsider, had just stolen the Alpha’s truck! What in the fuck am I doing? Part of her desperately wanted to pull over and surrender herself, but another part, a more dominant part, told her to keep her ass moving. She did.
Weaving down the mountain road, she was forced to slow at several hairpin turns. Her belly dipped when she realized she was getting to the part of the road that ran along the four-hundred-foot drop straight down the mountain.
Something hit the side of the truck and it rocked, tearing a scream from her. Eyes frantically searching the rearview mirror and then the side mirrors, she saw on the passenger side, Modess’ giant wolf keeping pace with the truck.
Body trembling, Hillary sped up. When she looked in the side mirror, she was surprised to see that Modess had suddenly stopped.
Eyes shooting straight ahead, she half-expected to find the Blood Lust pack blocking the road, but there was nothing.
She took the first corner a little too fast and gasped when she saw that she was at the drop off. Heart lurching, she slowed the truck, knowing better than to just slam on the breaks. With each twist and turn, she went slower and slower. The whole time she was alert, wondering what had made Modess stop chasing her.
Eyeing the drop off just outside her window, she wondered if he’d stalled to keep her from going too fast. She didn’t know and right now she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get as far from Modess Wilder and his Blood Lust pack as quickly as she could.
***
As Modess watched the tail lights of his truck slowly recede into the dark, he prayed Hillary slowed the fuck down before she hit the next turn. Swallowing hard, he shook his head as several of his enforcers, shifted into wolf form, suddenly arrived to flank him. Eyes still locked on the disappearing vehicle, he felt his gut clench at the prospect of Hillary going too fast on that particular stretch of road. It was treacherous for a reason, built to keep intruders out and anyone inside from racing off. If you were home, you didn’t need to rush away, right? Wrong, apparently, because Hillary wasn’t just running from him. She was running from home.
He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so damn bad that he wanted to punch himself in the fucking nuts. If Hillary got hurt right now running from him, he didn’t know what he’d do. Pacing back and forth, still in wolf form, he snarled. His ears pricked as he waited. He could still hear his truck rumbling through the mountains and with each passing second, relief settled over him.
One of his enforcers stepped forward like he intended on chasing after Hillary. Modess’ jerked his gaze to the wolf and loosed a vicious snarl. The enforcer stepped back.
Seconds later, he heard the motor of his truck kick up and he knew Hillary had cleared the dangerous section of road. Turning, he raced down the road back to Blood Lust at a break neck pace. He could only assume that Hillary was going home to Shadow Wolf, which meant that’s where he needed to go, too.
Chapter 28
Hillary was back home at Shadow Wolf. She’d rolled into the compound during the night and when Lee and Dalton, who were on patrol duty, stopped her at the pack border she informed them that she’d been summoned home by Michael. It wasn’t a lie and she used it as cover when she had to say the truck was a gift from Modess. Everyone knew the truck was his from the last time he’d been at Shadow Wolf. Luckily, she’d found one of Modess’ pullovers in the back and had shrugged into it before pulling up to her compound and confronting Lee and Dalton. Idiots that they were, they accepted her story and just like that, she rolled into the Shadow Wolf compound.
Now, back in her cabin, she felt disjointed. Everything felt familiar, but not. She was happy to see that her plants were still thriving. She went to the table by the window where they were settled and stroked her hands over several leaves. She wondered who’d watered them and she knew Modess had something to do with it. After the night she’d blown up on him for taki
ng her from Shadow Wolf, he’d done everything he could at his compound to ease her worries. It made sense that he’d contact Michael and take care of her concerns here too.
Turning, she eyed her cabin with a sigh. Why didn’t this feel right? Why didn’t this feel like home anymore?
Dejectedly she hugged her middle, lowering her nose to sniff at Modess’ pullover she still wore as she padded to her bedroom. The pullover on her smelled like Modess, like home, and her room just smelled musty from being closed up for so long. She crossed to the window and pushed it open, letting in some fresh air before dropping onto her bed and hugging a pillow to her chest. She wondered if she’d overreacted. Yes, obviously stealing Modess’ truck was an epically bad idea, but more importantly, she wondered if she should have run away. He was allowed to shoot her down right?
Tears welled in her eyes at how bad his rejection had stung. Worse, he’d accused her of offering herself up as his mate out of…what had he called it? A misguided sense of gratitude. Did he actually believe that she would give herself to any man out of a sense of obligation? Clearly, he didn’t know her at all and that was heartbreaking, almost as heartbreaking as the realization that she apparently didn’t know him either.
Worried about what would happen when he showed up—and there was no questioning whether or not he would—Hillary lay on her bed and waited. Ears pricked for the sound of approaching vehicle or the stomp of her Alpha’s feet up her front steps, she dozed off into a fitful sleep.
***
Modess paced his living room, his eyes constantly shooting to the kitchen like he expected Hillary to come waltzing out. That wasn’t going to happen and it was his fault. He’d scared her off. No, not scared. He’d insulted her and threw her proposal back in her beautiful face and then he’d scared her off. Fisting his hair he growled. Christian backed up until his ass hit the wall, but Bull, who was sitting on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table, simply shot Modess an unsympathetic look.
