by Selena Blake
“She still does not trust…” She was about to say “your kind” when she caught herself. That sounded accusatory. Grayson had come to their aid tonight when that Richard fellow had gotten his panties in a twist. Coco knew Grayson well enough to know he’d never rape a woman, enemy or not.
“Werewolves,” he finished for her.
“When Valencia and I found her, Izzy had almost bled to death. The bastard left her in an alley, as if she were… garbage.” She lifted the wine glass to her lips and tipped her head back, finishing the cocktail in one long gulp. It didn’t matter how many women she trained, how many hours she spent working out with a punching bag, she could not get the image of Izzy’s body, covered in blood, creamy skin ripped to tatters, out of her mind. “I’m not ready to ask her to face her biggest fears. She’s adjusting remarkably well. By some miracle she hasn’t lost her sex drive. But that doesn’t mean she’s ready for some drunk werewolf pawing all over her.”
Grayson stopped. “I agree. But what does that have to do with me? Us?”
Us? Coco stared into the forest. “Everything. I’m going to go check on her. What room are you in?”
He looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he bit the words back and nodded. “Three twenty-six.”
“I’ll come find you.” She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
He didn’t let her go, rather, pulled her full against him. Chests flush, hips bumping. She felt the beginnings of an erection behind the tan chinos. For a man who spent so much time looking down the barrel of a gun, he sure did know how to pick clothes that accentuated… his assets.
A warm hand cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes as his lips descended. Firm. Hot. Delicious. Desire coiled inside her, ready to strike out and ride the wave to completion.
The goblet fell to the ground and she balled her fists against his chest. So good. She moaned against his lips, arms twining around his neck. He worked his way down her jaw to her throat. Kissing, licking. She shivered. He nipped her earlobe. Yes!
“I’ll be waiting,” he whispered in her ear.
Disengaging, he took a step back his gaze holding hers. She touched her lips. How did he do that? Make her lose her head so quickly? So completely?
She was torn between making him finish what he’d started and doing the smart thing, the reasonable thing, and walking away. But he was a hard man to resist.
* * * * *
Izzy was curled up in her bed when Coco got back to the cottage. The curtains were still drawn, shutting the world out. Coco didn’t blame her.
She knew she was more touchy-feely than most vamps. Perhaps she was just more emotional. She’d spent plenty of time fighting. And for the last four years, she’d been in a relationship void of nearly any emotion and most certainly, passion. Sometimes she envied the women in her workshops. They bonded quickly and weren’t afraid to show emotion.
Crossing the room, she called out to her friend.
“Ya?” Izzy said.
Coco sat down on the edge of Izzy’s bed and kicked off her flip flops. “How are you feeling?”
There was a long pause. “Annoyed,” Izzy said at last.
“I don’t blame you. That guy hit on me the first night we were here.”
“At least he took no for an answer from you. Do men just see a little helpless woman when they look at me, Coco?”
Izzy had made several comments in the past about her small stature. Coco had always insisted that Izzy’s size could help her get out of tricky situations. She could easily dive between a man’s legs to escape him. Or squeeze beneath a car to hide.
Coco’s hips and more-than-a-handful bust would make that last trick impossible on any vehicle smaller than a semi. “You’re not helpless.” Coco was a firm believer in building a woman’s confidence. So many of the domestic abuse victims she’d met had the self-assurance of a rock. How did men rob them of that so easily? So completely?
Coco knew better to ask that. She’d fallen victim to it herself, first because of Dmitri’s good looks and promises. Then slowly, those promises had turned to cutting remarks and aloof behavior, a lack of passion and a very long stretch of celibacy.
“They seem to think so,” Izzy countered.
“He was drunk. Don’t pay him too much attention.”
Izzy rolled onto her back and glared up at Coco. “Do not make excuses for him.”
Coco licked her lips, knowing she had to tread carefully. “I’m not. I know you don’t want to hear this, don’t want to believe it, but not all werewolves are bad.”
“And yet, you fought them for twenty years.”
“I did what was asked of me. I fought an enemy. The only thing I had vested in that battle was pride in our army.”
Izzy rolled away from her. “Whatever.”
“I didn’t know why we were fighting, Iz. I was given orders. I heard rumors, stories. That’s all they were. Whispers of why our races were at war. But I’ve had a long time to get over it. Move past it. Reflect on it.”
“I’ve had two years.”
“I know. That’s not very long. But one day you’ll come to realize that there are vampires just as evil as the werewolf that raped you. And I hope that by then, you’ll be prepared to deal with the realization.”
“Why are you pushing so hard?”
Coco stretched out next to her friend and put an arm around her middle. “I’m not. Get some sleep.”
“Not likely,” Izzy muttered. A good minute later she said, “That other wolf is interested in you. I could see it in his eyes.”
If Izzy had been anyone else, Coco would have been bursting at the seams to tell her about Grayson and how good he made her feel. But she heard herself say, “There’s nothing between us,” before she could snatch the words back. Now if only she could believe those words.
Chapter Seven
The ax came down in the center of the log with a satisfying thump. The vibration from the impact hummed through Grayson’s hands and arms.
A pile of six foot lengths lay to his right like giant pick-up-sticks. Trees he’d already hacked to appropriate lengths for the solstice bonfire later in the week. Sweat poured from his brow and he wiped it away with the cloth he kept in his back pocket.
He gave the tree in front of him another good whack.
“You could have used the chainsaw.”
Grayson looked up to see Charles Latham sitting on one of the logs he’d just whittled down to size. The god wore breezy white slacks and the first tendrils of morning light made his gold hair shine in a way mere mortals, no matter what chemicals and treatments they applied, could never achieve.
“I know.” He tightened his grip on the ax and took another swing at the fallen tree trunk. A chunk of wood landed at Latham’s feet.
On the way to an early morning swim to work off some of his excess energy, the god had stopped him, looking for volunteers to cut wood. At the time Grayson had selected the ax over the chainsaw, relishing the idea of a little physical labor. To his chagrin, a thousand swings later the physical exertion hadn’t wiped the vampiress from his mind. If anything, the repetition provided ample time for him to think… about her.
From the corner of his eye, Grayson saw the god’s eyebrow notch upward. Long moments passed before Latham spoke again, but Grayson could feel the blond god’s eyes on him.
“Lady problems?” the god asked, his voice laced with amusement.
Grayson would bet that Charles Latham had never had such a problem with a woman in his life. Wherever Latham went, he turned heads. Being a god had its perks.
Grayson grunted his agreement. He’d waited in his room for Coco all damn night. Horny as hell. Annoyed as a wet hornet. “Seems I’m just a dirty little secret,” he said, taking another swing at the log. Despite her assurances otherwise, that’s what he felt like. If Richard was worth introducing to her, he would do it in a heartbeat. If his family had been on the island, he would have introduced her to them. So why didn’t she i
ntroduce him to her coven?
From the corner of his eye, he saw the god frown. “You’re going to have to explain.”
Before he could stop himself, the story of Coco shaking her head from across the casino and everything that had happened afterward came tumbling out. Irritated for being so… girly, he whacked the log three times in rapid succession.
“So you think she’s keeping you from her friends?”
“Isn’t that what she’s doing? Keeping me at an arm’s length? Not introducing us?”
Latham dropped his chin. “I know for a fact she’s not keeping you at an arm’s length, wolf. Quite the opposite if the rumors sprouting from the concert are to be believed.”
Grayson glanced away. The god was right on that account.
“Have you considered that it’s too soon for her? She’s here on vacation.”
He didn’t have an answer to that. Hadn’t stopped to consider the timeline. Time wasn’t important to him, except that he didn’t want to waste any more of it. “So you’re saying she’s just here for sex…”
“Aren’t you?” Latham asked.
Just here for sex? He had been. Before he’d come around that corner and seen her again.
“Ahh. Things have changed,” Latham said. There he went, reading Grayson’s mind again. “Aside from her body, beauty, and pussy, what else do you like about her?” Latham asked.
Hearing the other man refer to Coco’s pussy made him want to growl. And shred something with his claws. But instead he focused on the question. What did he like about her? What was it that made him so crazy?
The way she showed him her neck, trusting him so completely. The fact that she’d remembered him, didn’t deny their connection. She was playful and alluring, serious but not afraid to be silly. She didn’t try to make him jealous but didn’t mind being watched. He liked that she believed covens still had a purpose but had embraced life as a modern woman.
“Everything. But I feel like I hardly know her.” And he’d been asking himself if that mattered. Was it crazy to love a woman’s smile? Was he headed for the loony bin because he wanted to introduce her to his family after a handful of days together?
“Sounds like you’re in love with her.”
The ax missed its mark and swung dangerously close to his right shin. Damn, he was going to have to get better at shielding his thoughts.
“It’s in your eyes, wolf. Not your head.”
Grayson dropped his gaze.
Latham made a tsking sound. “It’s not true, you know. You know more about her than you think. You know she’s a beautiful vampiress who has you wrapped around her little finger.” Grayson started to object, but Latham held out a hand. “Think about it.”
Grayson took a deep breath, knowing the god was right. He was tied in knots. Anxious to see her. Annoyed by her diversion tactics. Somewhere in the last thirty-six hours, everything had changed for him. He couldn’t focus past the end of the week. Was already trying to figure out how to get out of his assignment. Was pondering a move to France.
“Your kind are excellent at judging a person before you’ve even shaken hands,” Latham prodded. “So what do you know about her?”
“She’s a great fighter.”
“Yes. And?” Latham leaned back, obviously enjoying himself.
“She… loves classical music. She plays the piano. She teaches human women how to protect themselves.”
“Go on.”
“She fights for what she believes in.” But she’s willing to change her mind. From the moment they’d met, she hadn’t held the fact against him that he was a wolf. For whatever reason, she’d accepted him from the beginning. “She’s loyal to her friends.”
“A good quality in a mate, yes?”
Grayson frowned. “She’s not my mate.”
“Not yet.”
“But we’ve hardly spent any time together. I don’t know her favorite stores, her favorite wine, her shoe size. I don’t know if she wants kids. Hell, we couldn’t even have any kids, so it doesn’t matter.”
“You’ll figure all that stuff out. The important question is; how does she make you feel? For instance, last night when she walked into the casino.”
Calm and anxious all at once. He’d thought he’d been prepared to see her again. But he hadn’t been. Not really. Not for the need that filled him, making his cock hard in an instant as if he’d been waiting all damn century for her. He loved the feel of her fangs against his skin. How cool she was and the way she turned to him to stay warm.
The instant that she was in his arms, years of conflict and frustration, the snarling beast inside him, had quieted. He liked that. Loved the way she smiled up at him, let him take the lead. He felt protective and possessive. But mostly, like he could spend forever in her arms and never grow restless.
The god stood. “While you think about it, I’m going to carry these over to the site.”
Grayson watched the god hoist a log onto each shoulder and carry them as if they weighed no more than toothpicks.
Was Latham right? Was he in love with the vamp? That sure would explain a lot. But he wasn’t even sure what love was. It wasn’t quantifiable. There was no measuring stick. No check box to be checked off upon completion.
“Hey there, big boy.” Two bikini-clad women stopped in front of him, their assets on display thanks to ample strings and tiny patches of fabric. The one on the right had the tall lean figure of a werewolf; the shorter one had a pentagram tattooed around her belly button. Witch. She toyed with one of the woven bracelets around her wrists.
“Ladies.” He nodded. He watched the brunette witch from behind his sunglasses. She wasn’t curvy enough. And her hair was too short. She turned to her friend, slid a hand around the blonde’s waist and kissed her lips.
The sexual display didn’t surprise or shock him. Nothing shocked him anymore.
At another time Grayson would have dropped the ax and joined them, but he didn’t feel the slightest stirring of interest. As he watched the two women make out, their tongues thrusting, hands caressing, he realized he’d rather be with Coco.
“Will we see you at the bonfire?” the blonde asked when she came up for air.
Two nights from now marked the winter solstice. Shortest day, longest night. Latham’s crew had a whole slew of activities planned from beachfront caroling, Christmas movies on the beach, and of course, the symbolic bonfire. Assuming the logs got cut.
He glanced down at the ax in his hands. Not a chance in hell. “Maybe,” he told them. They smiled, the sun at their back.
“Good. We’ll let you keep us warm,” the brunette said before they scampered off, hand in hand.
“You’ve got it bad, wolf.” Latham.
Grayson huffed out a sigh and turned to face the god. “You could go after them. I’m sure they’d enjoy your company,” Grayson assured him.
Hands on his lean hips, the tall god watched the women disappear along the path.
Grayson took another shot at the tree trunk, determined to finish the job in a minimum of swings.
“Have you accepted the fact that you’re in love with the vamp?”
Grayson put all his strength into his swing and the log separated. He carried it over to the pile where Latham stood. “Walk with me?”
Latham nodded and hoisted a log. “You already think of her as yours.”
“There’s a difference between feeling possessive and binding myself to her forever.”
“Is there?”
They strode along in silence for several moments. Grayson wasn’t used to spending solstice in such a warm place. The second he dropped the log into the pile, he reached for the rag in the back of his pocket.
“Just admit you’re crazy about her and put yourselves out of this misery.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”
Latham smiled at the werewolf. He’d seen this so many times. Resistance. Self-conscious in the face of one’s desires. “What if she does?”
/>
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” Grayson asked.
Latham laughed. “No. Not always. I’m trying to show you that your fears can be ironed out if you’re willing to work for it.”
“What if she can’t get past this… situation with her friend?”
“If she loves you enough, she can overcome anything, young wolf.” Latham was sure of that. “Choose carefully, wolf. You can only mate once. Sacrificing your happiness because of what others think or what might or might not be true, is not a wise choice.”
Latham turned away, but stopped. He shot the wolf a parting thought across his shoulder. “By the way. You can have kids, wolf. You’re both purebloods. Just something to think about.”
* * * * *
Coco strode into the restaurant like she owned it. Lesson one, don’t let a man know when he has you flustered. She was still deliciously sore from their rendezvous two nights ago. But his anger and frustration last night had confused her. She was still confused, not that she’d let him know that. Somehow, in four days, they’d left casual and headed toward something… more.
As the host led her to the table where Grayson waited, she smoothed her hand down the black leather skirt. The sleeveless bodice hugged her curves, providing the added bravado she was going to need when confronting the big wolf.
Something about him made her lose her sense of time, place, and decency. Like the other night on the beach. She couldn’t have cared one little bit if anyone had stumbled upon them.
Heat crept up her neck. He made her lose her inhibitions. Made her forget the past. He made her forget why she’d come to the island. That’s what she’d wanted. Why she’d come to Mystic Isle in the first place. But Grayson had made her feel like the center of the universe. Showering her with affection, attention.
She heard his heartbeat pick up as she stepped into his line of sight. With her hair piled on top of her head, she felt almost naked under his gaze. Even though the leather was thick, it was supple and tight enough that it left nothing to the imagination.
