“Sometime in the future, I may want to settle down,” Penelope said. “Right now, I’m stretching my wings and trying new things.”
The band wound down to take a break.
“Damn.” Tristan sweetly kissed her knuckles. “I hate for our evening to end, but I have Co-op duty tonight.”
“And I have to work tomorrow. I guess I should go.”
“Yes, Penelope. You should go. And when you get back to the cabin, lock the door and don’t open it until morning.” Tristan sounded so serious a sliver of alarm swept through her.
“Why?”
“It’s almost midnight.” He stroked his thumb along her jaw. Waves of fire and ice undulated beneath her skin. “The moon is full. And the wolves are restless tonight.”
Chapter 9
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cooter’s voice drifted through Tristan’s mind, but the words floated without meaning for a few seconds before Tristan comprehended them.
Nearly too late, he realized Cooter had stopped short. Tristan’s snout would’ve ended up in Cooter’s rump if the much older sentinel hadn’t sidestepped. As a result, Tristan’s shoulder grazed Cooter’s ribs.
“That’s the third time you’ve run into me tonight,” Cooter growled. “Anyone else, and I would’ve chomped their ass.”
“I don’t know why I’m so distracted tonight,” Tristan lied. Since leaving Nel, he couldn’t focus on anything but her.
After following her to the resort, Tristan had parked near Gavin and Abby’s private entrance, and stripped down in the shadows of their private gazebo before shifting. He’d made a quick trek through the woods around the resort property to assure himself that there were no interlopers. Then, he’d snuck by Nel’s cabin.
She was on the back porch painting, but he didn’t allow himself the luxury of watching. Forcing himself onward, he circled around Brice and Cassie’s homestead and padded across the footbridge to Rafe and Grace’s home.
Once assured his brothers at heart were safe, Tristan made the trek to the wolf sanctuary to meet up with Cooter.
“I scented a female on you when we started out.” Cooter’s dark gaze speared him. “You did fuck her, right?”
Tristan remained conspicuously quiet.
“For the second time tonight, I’m gonna ask... What the hell is wrong with you?”
“She’s human.”
“Never bothered you before, so what’s the real problem?”
The pull toward Nel was nothing like Tristan had ever experienced. A part of him wanted to give in just to see what would happen, but after a couple of months of celibacy, he wasn’t sure how much control he’d reasonably exercise in human form while with her.
“You’ve never hesitated where women are concerned. If they were willing and available, so were you.”
“I’m tired or bored. Or maybe I’m sick.”
“You aren’t sick.” Cooter snorted. “You’re acting like a lovesick pup. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and found a mate.”
“Hell, no,” Tristan snapped. “I like being single. The best part is no conflict. My home is always peaceful.” Unlike the one he grew up in.
“Well, then, why do you spend so little time there?”
In truth, Tristan’s apartment had never felt like home.
“I can handle rounds alone,” Cooter finally said. “Human or she-wolf, bed someone. You need a warm body to ground you.”
Cooter departed, but Tristan lacked the motivation to track a she-wolf. Instead, he turned toward the river. Keeping to the dark tree line, he followed the winding stream toward the resort. Once he’d retrieved his clothes, Tristan planned to text Angeline. Showing up at her apartment if she already had a bed buddy would be awkward for all. Part of him hoped she would be unavailable. He wasn’t in the mood for skin-to-skin coupling with her, and she didn’t like wolf sex indoors.
Maybe he should go see Doc. Tristan’s annual physical wasn’t due for another three months, but he’d rather know sooner than later if he’d contracted some sort of wolfan ague.
A light rain began to fall.
By the time Tristan reached the edge of the resort property, the tips of his damp fur were charged with static from the growing intensity of an imminent storm.
Staying in the shadows, he worked his way back down to Nel’s cabin. She stood near the bay windows in the kitchen nook. A scarf tied back her hair and she wore a long, baggy shirt over black leggings. Her movements were poetic as she swept the paintbrush across the canvas. She frowned, chewing on the wooden end of the brush. Her head tipped to one side, then the other. In a flurry, she jabbed the paintbrush bristles into the color on her palate and made short furious dabs at the canvas. She switched brushes and employed long, sweeping strokes until a sweet smile curved her mouth.
“Irresistible, isn’t she?”
Tristan startled at the intrusive voice in his mind. He swung his head left. Jaxen sat behind him, a toothy grin plastered on his muzzle.
“Why are you here?” Tristan knew his agitation carried telepathically.
“Reorienting myself with the territory.”
“You’re in a restricted area.”
“So are you.”
“I’m a sentinel. It’s my duty to protect the Alpha family’s property.”
“What’s your duty to her?” Jaxen pointed his snout toward Nel. “Did you know your tongue was lolling while you watched her? You might’ve even drooled.”
“Bite me.”
“You should say that to her.” Jaxen’s teasing laughter didn’t earn him any favors with Tristan.
“Go home, Jax. I’m cold and wet.” And irritably horny.
“Guess I’ll take a rain check on that run you promised.” Jaxen shook out his fur, slinging muddy water droplets all over Tristan.
“Bastard.”
“What?” Jaxen bumped him. “I thought you loved the water.”
“Clean water. Not mud.” Tristan shook, splattering Jaxen in kind and grinned at his cousin’s disgruntled growl.
The sky brightened with a flash of light and the on-and-off drizzle restarted.
Nel scurried around the kitchen. Her movements more frenzied with the increasing rumble of rolling thunder.
“Hey.” Jaxen caught Tristan’s attention. “At Taylor’s, I thought you monopolized her attention so I would stay away from her, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“Nope. We shared a nice dinner and some dances. That’s it.”
“So, you wouldn’t mind if I struck up something with her?”
“Actually, I would.” Tristan issued a warning growl.
“Actually,” Jaxen mocked, “unless you claim her, she’s fair game.”
“I don’t need to claim her to keep her safe.” From the likes of you.
Although Tristan hadn’t sent the entire thought, Jaxen seemed to sense the sentiment anyway. His teasing demeanor slipped.
“I’ve done a lot of things, but I’ve never hurt a female or allowed one to be hurt in my presence.” Jaxen stood snout to snout with Tristan, his blue-gray eyes icy and turbulent. “Do you know why I ended up in Woelfesguarde?”
“You assaulted a human.”
“That human smacked his woman so hard she fell to the floor with a broken jaw. So I made sure he knew how it felt and fixed it so he couldn’t ever do it again.”
“Nel is sweet and kind and sensitive. All of which makes her vulnerable to being hurt. Intentionally or not.” Tristan slightly lowered his head, but kept his gaze firmly on his cousin. “She’s a friend, Jax, and I’m asking, as nicely as I know how, stay away from her.”
“You always did have trouble sharing your friends.”
Tristan could almost taste Jaxen’s bitterness, and the cold, unforgiving gleam
in his eyes suggested Jaxen still begrudged the close relationship he’d had with Mason.
Jaxen bolted into the darkness.
One day, all the anger festering in both of them would erupt. Tristan only hoped Nel wouldn’t get caught in the fallout.
* * *
A howling wind wailed against the kitchen window. Nel’s heart beat a frantic rhythm inside her chest and she was seriously rethinking the wisdom of spending the summer in a cabin, all alone.
Especially if the raging storm outside was typical for the season.
Relentless rain battered the tin roof. Sleep would not come anytime soon. After starting a pot of coffee, Penelope padded into the living room. The sudden rainstorm vanquished the heat and a chill saturated the air. She pressed the button on the mantel and the gas fireplace came alive. Since it was summer, a fire wasn’t necessary, but it was certainly cozy and comforting. And if the power went out, the firelight would prevent her from being consumed in darkness.
She hoped Tristan was home safe. The thought of him caught in this awful summer squall made her stomach churn.
The old scar on her arm began to throb, unleashing a wire-thin, white-hot current from her right shoulder to the tip of her middle finger. The neurologist had found no substantial cause for the pain that every bad storm seemed to incite. After assuring her that all the nerves had healed perfectly, the advice he offered was for her to see a shrink. He might’ve been right, but she fired him anyway.
Kaboom!
The cabin rattled and shook as though the sky above and the ground below had split open. Nel dropped to the ground.
The only thing remotely suitable to crawl under was the small round kitchen table, but the large bay windows presented too much of a risk if the wind shattered the glass. The best she could do was wedge herself between the coffee table—which was made from a giant section of a very old tree—and the leather couch and hope that the roof didn’t cave in.
The lights flickered once and faded. If not for the glow of the fire, darkness would’ve swallowed her whole.
The longer the storm raged, the harder and faster her heart beat until Nel was sure she’d have a heart attack before the storm broke.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Nel swore she heard someone call her name.
The sound had to be her imagination. No one in their right mind would be out in this dangerous weather.
“Nel! Open the damn door!”
Penelope flew to the front door, slapped the chain off the hook, twisted the deadbolt, yanked open the door and plowed into Tristan’s chest.
Arms banded around her, and he shuffled her back inside and kicked the door closed.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Just shaken.” The strong steady beat of his heart against her cheek provided an anchor for her to ride out the turbulent emotions crashing inside her. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you on the back porch earlier. When the transformer blew and knocked the power out, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m glad you did. I hate bad storms.”
Slowly, the tension drained from his body, taking hers along with it. He didn’t let her go until she was good and ready, and thoroughly cognizant of the state he was in.
“You have to get out of those wet clothes.”
Penelope darted into the bathroom. When she returned with dry towels and a laundry basket, Tristan had kicked off his shoes and was peeling the plastered T-shirt from his torso.
“Oh, boy,” Penelope whispered, staring at the sculpted muscles beneath a smattering of damp, matted chest hair and the incredibly defined ripples along his abs.
He plopped the shirt into the empty laundry basket Nel placed on the floor. She handed him a clean towel to dry his hair, then he swiped his shoulders and patted his chest and stomach.
“Pants?” Her voice hit a high note Nel didn’t know she could reach.
Tristan hung the towel around his shoulders. His gaze locked on hers, he unzipped his pants and began peeling them from his lower body.
Nel sucked in her breath.
He had those sharp indents along his sides, angled just above the hips that could only be described as an evolutionary perfection of the male species.
“I, um...” Her tongue felt too thick for her mouth. She glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen. “I made coffee before the power went out. Want some?”
Tristan’s penetrating gaze never wavered from her.
“How do you like it? Black? Cream? Sugar?”
“Cream, no sugar.” His drawl was slow and deliberate.
“Got it.” Penelope darted into the kitchen to give him some privacy.
She still jumped every time the thunder boomed and her shaky hands made pouring coffee a possible burn risk. So she placed two mugs in the sink before filling them. Then she added two splashes of cream to Tristan’s cup.
Holding a warm coffee mug in each hand, she marched into the empty living room.
“Tristan?”
He emerged from the dark hallway. His skin looked golden and shimmery in the dancing firelight. The planes of his face, some in shadow, some in light, made him appear dark and dangerous.
And sexy as hell.
Not that he needed ambient lighting to help in that department.
“I wrung out my clothes and hung them up in the shower.” His eyes narrowed in silent interrogation.
If she’d been guilty of anything, Nel would’ve confessed in no time.
“When the power comes on, I’ll put them in the dryer for you.”
Tristan edged into the living room, the towel fastened low, but snugly, around his hips. The outline of his erection was visible despite the thick plushness of the towel wrapping.
Nel’s mouth and throat went dry. Other places became wet.
Oh, boy!
Forging ahead, she held out his coffee cup. “Here’s something to warm you up.”
“I’m not cold.” He accepted the cup anyway, his cautious, curious eyes tracking her every movement.
Nel sat on the couch and pulled her feet beneath her. She sipped her coffee, watching him above the rim as she drank. He sat next to her. Closer than expected, and that made her smile. He stared at the fireplace, his posture rigid, his breathing tight and controlled. Nothing like the relaxed, easygoing, self-assured guy she’d danced with all evening.
“You seem uptight. Was everything all right in the wolf sanctuary? You weren’t hurt, were you?”
He wrinkled his brows and squinted his eyes. Slowly he turned toward her. He sat the cup that had yet to touch his lips on the sofa table behind them. “Penelope, what are you doing?”
“Trying to distract myself from the storm by having a conversation with you, but you aren’t cooperating very much.”
Thunder broke overhead, shaking the cabin. She squealed and splashed a little coffee on the front of her T-shirt. Tristan carefully lifted the cup from her hands and sat it next to his.
“I hate storms.” She shrugged at his inquisitive gaze. “My dad used to read stories to me as a distraction.”
“What kind of distraction are you looking for tonight?”
Nel’s heart launched into her throat. Was he coming on to her? Or playing with her?
She couldn’t decide.
“Jeezus, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
Tristan leaned forward, his arms poled on either side of her, his fists balled into the seat cushion. “Like you want me to strip you down, kiss every last inch of your bare skin and sink so deep inside that your breaths become mine.”
“Didn’t know that was an actual look.” Nel swallowed. “But yeah. I want you to do those things to me.”
“You sure about
that?” He grazed his cheek along her jaw. Warm breath blew across her skin. Chill bumps surfaced everywhere. Fluttering rose in her belly.
Oh, yeah, she was sure.
Chapter 10
“You never should’ve opened that door.” Tristan drew his finger along Nel’s ribs and she shivered.
Despite his slow, methodical movements, his heart hammered against the palm she pressed to his chest and his muscles bunched as her fingers glided over his taut skin.
He nibbled her earlobe until she wiggled.
“Go to your room and lock the door,” he sighed against her ear.
He pulled back and Nel watched the rawness of every conflicting emotion he had flicker across his face.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’ve spent too much time afraid to take chances. I’m not going to hide from whatever this is between us. If you want to call it quits, there’s the door.”
In case he had any lingering doubt about what she wanted, Nel pushed him down on the couch and kissed him.
Tristan growled her name. His hands gripped her ass, his fingers kneading the globes. She took that as encouragement, not a protest. His hands moved upward, beneath her shirt. His fingers skimmed her ribs and nudged up her bra so he could cup her breasts.
She broke the kiss. His eyes fluttered opened. Fierce, needful.
Nel glanced at the fire. She hoped the glow was dim enough to hide her imperfections. She whisked off her shirt, then unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor.
A smile spread across Tristan’s face before he lowered his eyes to look at her. His touch followed his gaze and when it returned to her face, his hand cupped the back of her neck, urging her closer. All the while his voice ran through her mind. Kiss me, Nel. Kiss me now!
Pure imagination. Still, she gave in to the plea, brushing her mouth across his in a featherlight kiss that made him groan.
“You’re killing me,” he said softly in a voice full of agony.
“I’m so sorry!” She sat back, grabbing her shirt and covering her chest.
“What the hell?” Looking cross and confused, Tristan pushed up on his elbows. “Why did you stop?”
Charmed by the Wolf Page 7
