by Casey Lane
That thought had all the blood in his head rushing South.
She had one knee cocked up, and her other leg stretched out over her comforter. How could someone so tiny have such long legs? Wren’s brain turned to silly putty at the sight of all that golden skin, so close he could just reach out and touch.
She didn’t try to hide from him. In fact, she didn’t acknowledge him at all, simply flipped the page on her book, pretending he wasn’t there. It was a game. He could see it in the barest hint of a smile playing at her lips, he could feel it in the way her body responded to him, the subtle change in her scent, the way her heartbeat thudded harder against her ribs.
If she wanted to play games, he could play too. Isa’s pulse went wild as Wren scooted closer, but she held firm, eyes never straying from her book, even as he watched her chest rise and fall with quickened breaths. When he was close enough to touch, he reached across her slowly, watching her lick her lower lip in anticipation of his touch. Instead, he plucked her book from her hands.
“Hey!” she yelped, trying to get it back, losing whatever composure she’d been attempting to convey. Wren easily dodged her, making himself comfortable beside her, mimicking her pose as he flipped the book closed, his thumb saving her place.
He grinned at the cover. It wasn’t a new book; if anything, it looked like it had seen a couple of decades worth of reads, with its spine broken in at least a dozen places and the cover curling softly at the edges. It looked like the books he used to find on his mother’s nightstand. On the cover, a tall, muscular man with long, blond hair stood on what appeared to be the prow of a ship. He wore black leather pants and a shirt open to his belly button, a longsword strapped to his hip. In the man’s arms, a girl with jet black curls swooned, one hand on his impressive chest and the other inexplicably hiking up her blue velvet gown to reveal one long leg. “A Night with the Captain,” Wren read out loud. “Why, Isa McGowan, you are just full of surprises. I would never have taken you for the historical romance type.”
“Give me back my book,” she said, tone pouty and expression venomous.
He knew it wasn’t nice to tease her, but she looked pretty damn cute when she was mad. Besides, she could take it from him if she truly wanted but, instead, she chose to glower at him as he fanned the pages. “This book has to be over three hundred pages.” He wiggled his brows at her. “That must’ve been some night. It seems like the captain might be setting up some pretty unrealistic expectations for the rest of us.” He grinned as a blush blossomed from her chest to her cheeks. He dropped his voice as if he were confiding a secret. “I mean, my stamina is pretty good—you know, werewolf and all—but I don’t know if I can give you three hundred pages of material in one night.” Isa’s skin was practically purple as he leaned closer, dragging his nose along her cheek. “Though I’d say we made a pretty good attempt last night.”
Isa’s lips parted, her tongue darted across her lower lip. Wren couldn’t help himself, he dipped his head, capturing her lips in a quick kiss. Isa whined when he pulled away. This time he was the one hiding a smile as he settled deeper against her pillows, opening the book where she’d left off. She made another half-hearted grab for the book but he held it just out of reach until she dropped her arm with a huff.
He could tell by her scent that this was all part of her game. She obviously trusted him enough to play along. He cleared his throat as if he was about to make a toast. “Rafe-” he paused. “Why are their names always so dramatic, it’s always Rafe or Gabriel or Caleb. Why aren’t any of these women ever swooning into the arms of a guy named Melvin?”
“Captain Melvin?” Isa mused, before glancing at him beneath thick lashes. “You’re one to talk, Wren. Your name is romance novel worthy.”
Wren’s grin widened. “You think so?”
Isa rolled onto her side, twisting her body towards him, wrapping her arms around his bicep and gazing up at him with a look that had his breath hitching in his chest. His eyes strayed to where her t-shirt hiked up, revealing the generous curve of her hip and the barest hint of purple lace panties. When he looked back at her face, she batted her lashes. “Put that book down, and I’ll prove it.”
He arched a brow at her, unable to stop the low chuckle that escaped. “Did you just try to seduce me into giving you back this book? What kind of scandalous reading are you up to in here all alone in this big bed at night, Isa McGowan? Let’s find out, shall we.”
“If you don’t put down that book, I’m going to murder you, Wren Davies,” she promised, tone conversational.
“But then I’ll never know what happens between Captain Rafe and,”—he scanned the back cover for the heroine’s name—Eugenia? Ouch. “Then I’ll never know what scandalous things went on between the captain and the fair maiden, Eugenia.”
“You’re an idiot,” she said, deflating against him.
He considered the matter resolved, cracking the book back open, skimming for the first full paragraph, before he began to read. “Eugenia watched the captain with trepidation. He’d asked that she call him by his given name but she refused. He hadn’t earned that casual intimacy. They weren’t friends, and they certainly weren’t lovers. He was a scoundrel of the highest order, the captor who’d snatched her from her bed like some ghoul in a children’s fairy tale. She’d warned her father, but he hadn’t listened. This is what came from allowing villains into their home.” So far, Wren couldn’t imagine what it was that had Isa squirming about this book, though he was slightly curious as to why the captain had absconded with the prickly Eugenia.
“The captain’s eyes raked over Eugenia, and she felt his look, her body reacting as if he was right beside her and not across the room. He grinned, staring pointedly at her chest. She followed his gaze, gasping and clutching the sheet to her, remembering she wore only her thin linen shift, leaving her all but naked before him. She swallowed hard.”
Wren couldn’t help but notice how Isa swallowed hard as well, her fingers stroking his arm in an unconscious gesture. He added a scandalized tone to his voice as he picked up where he’d left off. “‘You must leave at once. You go too far, sir. Is it not enough for you to steal me away and destroy my reputation, now you must destroy what little shred of dignity I have left’”
Isa’s fingers tightened, nails biting into Wren’s flesh. He couldn’t hide his grin, but it didn’t matter, Isa wasn’t looking him anyway, she kept her gaze locked on the page. “Rafe moved closer, his smile smug, setting her teeth on edge. ‘Oh, let us not rewrite history, dove. It was you who offered yourself to me so brazenly at your father’s ball last night. You who thought to use me to make your father’s solicitor jealous. Imagine his jealousy now?’ Eugenia flushed in anger. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Rafe laughed, and it rolled over her like silk. ‘Don’t be coy. There’s nobody here to marvel at your performance. Those simpletons you surround yourself with might thrill at your attempt at simpering virgin, but we both know the truth, don’t we?’ ‘The truth?’ she asked. ‘And what, pray tell, is the truth, pirate?’ He stepped closer. ‘That beneath your pure, chaste exterior lies the heart of a pit viper.’ She didn’t think, simply grabbed the first thing at her disposal—a tin cup—and let fly. It missed him by a mile. She reached for something else to throw at him, but it was too late, his hand captured her wrist. She looked at the fingers wrapped around her arm, hating the way her body pulsed just at his touch. ‘Enough!’ he warned. ‘I simply want what you promised.’”
Wren glanced down at Isa, annoyed at how much he wanted to know what exactly Eugenia had promised Rafe. Isa was hanging onto his arm, heart pounding as if he read a horror story and not some old-school bodice ripper. She’d inched closer, her knee pressing against his through his sweatpants. He was tempted to toss the book and show Isa how much better a real-life romance could be, but there was something about the way she stared at the book that had him unable to stop reading. He wanted to know what had his fierce little alpha so turned on she could barely
keep herself in check.
He looked back at the book, clearing his throat. “Eugenia scoffed, cheeks flushing, ‘I promised you nothing,’ she lied smoothly, unable to hide her cry of surprise as he dropped to his knees before her, putting him at eye level. ‘Lie. You promised me a kiss. I only want what was promised.’ Eugenia’s heart raced. She couldn’t. Perhaps she shouldn’t have goaded Rafe at the ball. She’d only meant to get Geoffrey’s attention away from Cybil. A flirtation with a notorious brigand might have been a gamble, but he was meant to leave in the morning. How was she to know he’d steal her away when he did? ‘I can understand your n-need for vengeance, sir. I-I shouldn’t have played at-’ He cut her off, tugging the sheet away, leaving her exposed. ‘I’ll have my kiss, Eugenia. I’ll have what was promised. Did you think I was one to be trifled with? That I’d allow you to use me without getting what you owed me in return?’”
Wren flipped the page then threaded his fingers through Isa’s hair, licking his lower lip. Now they were getting somewhere. When he started to read again, his voice was lower, huskier. He felt Isa shiver against his arm as her cheek settled on his bicep.
“Eugenia squared her chin. She refused to cower or hide from the likes of him. He was a pirate, a reprobate and she was the daughter of a governor, not some maiden. She shook off the role she played so well. What had Rafe called it? The role of simpering virgin. She’d been daft to think it would work on one such as him. She leaned forward until her lips almost touched his. ‘If I give you what is owed—if I give you your kiss—you’ll return me home before the sun is up?’ His strong arms bracketed her thighs. Her heart seized in her chest as he moved close, his cheek rubbing against hers, his lips moving against her ear, her eyelids fluttering at his words. ‘Aye, viper. One kiss and you may go free.’ She shivered, gooseflesh rising along her skin at the warmth of his body pressed against her. ‘Very well, take your kiss and go,’ she murmured, preparing herself for the feel of his lips against hers. Her heart sank as he moved away, but her disappointment was short lived. She watched, shocked, as his fingers deftly untied the knot that held her shift in place, sliding the fabric down until it pooled at her waist.”
Wren couldn’t help the way his fingers tightened in Isa’s hair, body tense. “He held her gaze as he spread her legs wide before settling between her thighs. Eugenia flushed at the lewd display they made. ‘What are you doing? I promised you only a kiss,’ she whispered, attempting to cover herself. ‘Aye, but you never specified where I could kiss you and I want to explore my options.’ His touch was fire along her skin as his hands traveled over her breasts. ‘I could kiss you here. Would you like that?’ Eugenia couldn’t speak, mouth parted, watching has his fingers trailed lower still across her belly, edging inevitably downward before disappearing beneath the fabric. She cried out at the feel of his nimble fingers where no man had ever touched her before but she didn’t stop him, she couldn’t. ‘Or here. Would you like me to kiss you here?’”
Wren slammed the book closed, flinging it to the corner of the room, before rolling Isa beneath him and capturing her mouth in a kiss far more satisfying than anything the captain had to offer. He let his knee slipped between her legs, growling low as she whimpered, grinding herself against his knee shamelessly. He could feel the heat of her through the thin cotton material of his pants and it was making him crazy. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, coaxing hers to play, swallowing every needy little whimper that fell from her lips.
One of her hands pulled at his hair, the other snaking under his t-shirt, nails pricking into his skin until he hissed. When he finally pulled back, he eyed her shrewdly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me, woman.”
She gazed at him from beneath her lashes, lips red and swollen. “I don’t know what you mean,” she murmured, voice raw, echoing Eugenia’s words as her hand slipped beneath his sweatpants. “I was just reading my book when you invited yourself to my read along.”
Wren hissed as she closed her hand around him, lazily working him over. “Eugenia, the pit viper, has nothing on Isa, the she-wolf,” Wren whispered against her lips.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
He grinned down at her. “I am kissing you.”
Isa’s cheeks went pink and she bit her lip. “That’s not what I meant,” she murmured.
Wren could practically see her pulse thudding beneath her skin. There was no hiding the scent of her arousal. He knew what she asked but he craved the words. He gave her a teasing smile. “No? Then tell me. Where do you want me to kiss you?”
She seemed to war with herself as she looked at some space over his shoulder. He’d never seen her look so at a loss. He forced himself to remember that she’d never done this before. This was all new to her and she’d chosen him as her teacher. “You’re going to put me in an early grave, Isa McGowan,” Wren groaned, moving just enough to tug her shirt off and throw it to the opposite side of the room.
He decided to take a page from the captain. His hand closed over her breast, thumb teasing at one nipple while his mouth dipped to lave at the other. “Do you want me to kiss you here?”
Her “Yes,” was a half bitten off moan. He gave her other breast the same attention before moving on, biting and licking along her ribs until her breath was coming in ragged little gasps that were sending shocks along his spine.
He kissed the bone at each hip, lips trailing over the soft swell of her belly before he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties, tugging them off and flinging them over his shoulder. He wasn’t even touching her yet and she was writhing beneath him, head thrown back, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
She was stunning. He could feel himself shifting but he forced his wolf to be still but controlling himself around her took herculean effort. His need to taste her where her scent was the strongest was devastating what little control he had.
“Do you want me to kiss you here?” he asked, his voice a barely human rumble. He kissed the soft skin of her inner thigh, the muscles in his hands trembling as he forced himself to wait for her answer.
“Stop teasing, please,” she begged.
The please was all he needed to hear. He dipped his head, letting his tongue taste her. She cried out, her hips bucking beneath him until he held her still. He took his time, drunk off the taste of her, high off the way her hands fisted in his hair each time she moaned his name. His name on her lips was almost enough to drive him over the edge. But he didn’t let up. This wasn’t about him. It was about giving her what she needed. He could tell how close just by the way she was twisting beneath him, trying to get more than what he was giving her. He knew what she needed. He slipped two fingers inside her, squeezing his eyes shut at the damp heat encasing him. He curved his fingers, increasing the pressure of his tongue and just like that, she came apart beneath him, shuddering through her climax as she chanted his name like a prayer. The feel of her body convulsing around his fingers almost had him coming in his pants like a teenager.
He slid up her body, his hand slipping from between her legs. He kissed her slow and deep, letting her taste herself on his lips. She was languid beneath him but still she whispered, “Let me take care of you.”
He grabbed her wrist, guiding her to where he was painfully hard. “Just your hand. I swear I’m not going to last three seconds.” He buried his face against her throat, working himself into her tightened fist for an embarrassingly short amount of time before his vision whited out at the edges and he was spilling over her hand.
It took a full minute for him to come back to himself, realizing that he was resting his full weight on her. He tried to move to the side, but she wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t. I like this. Let’s just stay like this.”
He laughed, brushing his lips across hers. “For how long?”
“Forever?” she said, eyes heavy and voice wrecked.
There was the sound of a knock on the front door and Isa froze beneath him. “Ignore it,�
�� she ordered.
“Ignore what?” Wren quipped, pressing a kiss to her breastbone. He had no intention of ever moving from this spot as long as Isa allowed it. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so content. They both froze as the door downstairs opened and closed.
“Isa, I know you’re here. I ran into Genevieve and Hadley at the diner.”
Isa huffed out an annoyed breath, pushing Wren off her. “We’re cursed,” she muttered under her breath. “We’re just…cursed.” She sat up, before shouting, “What do you want, Allister.”
“We need to talk. It’s important.” There was a low snide laugh. “I wouldn’t have interrupted your alone time otherwise.”
Isa climbed off the bed, pulling her shirt over her head and shoving her legs into the yoga pants she’d left on the floor, before taking off downstairs, leaving Wren to follow.
When he caught up with her, Isa was in the foyer, her arms crossed over her chest. “What was so important that you had to break into my house?”
Allister certainly wasn’t what Wren was expecting. He looked more like his father’s tax attorney than some all-powerful witch. He was average in every way, from his pudgy weak chin to the khakis and glaring yellow polo shirt that highlighted his softening middle.
That was Allister? The head of the witches’ council? The man who wanted to marry Isa off to some weak-minded omega. Wren’s wolf flexed inside, but Wren didn’t let it show. He simply pushed it away. He couldn’t afford to maul an elder witch, especially not in Isa’s living room.
Allister pulled a key from his pocket. “I didn’t break in; I let myself in…there’s a difference.” He moved into the living room as if he owned the place, taking a seat on the sofa, gesturing to the two chairs across from him. “As I said, it’s important.”
