Last Wolf Hunting

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “You do that. And be careful,” Dylan called out as Jeremy headed down the porch steps.

  “You know me,” Jeremy answered over his shoulder. “Careful’s practically my middle name.”

  Chapter 6

  Jillian blinked against the brilliant shafts of early morning sunlight burning at Jeremy’s back, setting his big body alight, as if he were glowing. God, she needed more sleep if she was expected to deal with him this early in the day. She hadn’t even had her first cup of coffee or a shower yet.

  But Jeremy looked as if he’d been up for hours. Scarred brown hiking boots covered his big feet, and she worked her way up from there. He wore jeans and an untucked white Irish linen shirt with thin green stripes, its sleeves rolled back on his dark forearms, the masculine tracery of thick veins and ropey sinew visible beneath his golden, hair-dusted skin. His throat was muscled and tanned, his jaw strong, chin firm…and the curve of his mouth warned her that he was going to be a handful. The warm glow in his hazel eyes only confirmed it.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she said huskily, surprised at how thick her voice sounded. “If you needed to see me, you could have called and I would have met up with you somewhere.”

  “What’s the problem?” he asked, trying to pull off a look of innocence, while his aura was all but buzzing with sharp-edged, predatory energy. He was on the hunt. And she felt like the prey.

  Jillian only wished she didn’t like the feeling quite as much as she did.

  “I didn’t say there was a problem. But—”

  “Then what are we doing that’s so wrong?” he asked with an easygoing smile, looking too sexy for his own good. “We’re just two people who are going to work together to try and solve a mystery, find a bad guy, save the day. Heroic stuff. So where’s the harm in that? Unless your loverboy doesn’t like the idea of you spending time with me,” he added silkily.

  She clenched her teeth, then forced herself to relax. If she let him, he’d have her wound up in so many knots, she’d never unwind again. “Eric has nothing to do with me and you.”

  “Is that so?” he asked lightly, arching one tawny brow. Wearing a crooked grin, he looked her over, making her shiver despite the thick terrycloth robe she’d pulled on over her panties and tank top. “You and Eric Drake,” he murmured thoughtfully, staring at the base of her throat, where she knew her pulse was fluttering wildly, revealing her reaction to him. And she was reacting. Jillian couldn’t be near him, assaulted by that warm, crisp male scent and gorgeous body without suffering a meltdown. “Is he still here?”

  Looking over her head, his dark eyes raked the shadowed interior of her home, sharp and suspicious. She knew, without even asking, what he was thinking. “No, he isn’t hiding, Jeremy.”

  His gaze reconnected with hers, and she sucked in a startled breath at the blatant burn of possession glittering in his eyes. “Then now’s as good a time as any for you to explain what’s going on between the two of you,” he rasped, stepping closer, until she could feel the heat of his body. His scent was everywhere, surrounding her, seeping into her pores until she felt light-headed. “No little sisters, no jealous boyfriends lurking around the corner. Come on, Jillian, and enlighten me. I’m all ears.”

  Blowing out a deep breath, she suddenly didn’t have the energy to keep butting heads with him on something he was going to learn for himself before long, anyway. “Listen, I think you got the wrong idea last night. Eric and I aren’t a couple. Not like you’re thinking. We really are just friends.”

  “Right,” he drawled.

  “It’s true. But I’m in a complicated situation right now, and our parents…”

  Her voice trailed off uncomfortably, and he filled in the rest. “Oh, yeah, I can see that,” he supplied in a bitter tone, rocking back on his heels, hands shoved deep in his front pockets. “I bet your parents would cream over having his pure-blooded offspring perched on the branches of their family tree, even if his father is a sadistic bastard.”

  “It isn’t like that, Jeremy. Eric has been helping me buy some time with the League,” she explained gruffly. “It’s nothing more than that.”

  His green eyes narrowed, as bright and intense as rain-splashed leaves in the spring. “What the hell does that mean?”

  A sound caught her attention, and Jillian glanced to her right, seeing her elderly neighbor, Gloria, dressed in a floral housecoat and galoshes, getting ready to water her front yard. The old woman pretended absorption in her task, but Jillian knew Gloria would be struggling to hear their every word. “Look, we really shouldn’t be having this conversation outside for all the world to hear. I like to protect my privacy.”

  “Then invite me in,” he offered silkily…tempting her to trust the devil.

  Jillian rolled her lips together, and shook her head. “That wouldn’t be smart.”

  A low, husky laugh rumbled up from his chest, the provocative sound making her toes curl. “Since when has anything we’ve ever done been smart?” he drawled, the corner of his sensuous mouth lifting the tiniest fraction. “Come on, I promise I won’t bite.”

  Rolling her eyes, she stepped aside to let him in. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Only because it’s the truth.” The heat of his big body brushed hers as he moved past, making her muscles clench, while deep pulses of sexual tension invaded her system like a drug. God, it made her dizzy, the constant push and pull when they were together. “There’s only ever been one woman I’ve wanted to sink my teeth into,” he added in a seductive murmur.

  “Poor woman,” she snorted, trying to keep things light, when inside she was nothing but a chaotic jumble of destructive needs and dreams and desires.

  His deep laughter made her grin, even while her belly fluttered at the sight of his head tilted back, the muscular line of his throat begging for the press of her lips. Giving herself a mental kick in the backside, Jillian struggled to pull herself out of the sensual haze engulfing her, and searched for something mundane to say as she shut her front door. “So, um, how’s your first morning back in town been?”

  A wry grin twisted his mouth, green eyes glittering with humor as he glanced her way. “Peachy. The welcoming committee around here is just swell.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re already causing trouble,” she said with a frown, while her fingers fiddled with the knotted belt at her waist. He prowled the room at a slow, casual pace, but Jillian could feel the tension he kept under wraps. It reminded her of a rattler coiling its long body around…and around…and around, waiting for the moment to strike.

  “Hey, it’s not like I started it.” His shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. “Haven’t thrown a rock at a single window, I swear.”

  He stopped by her DVD shelf, running his finger over the various titles, and flashed her a boyish smile that made her go still. Everywhere. Inside and out. One smile, and Jillian was completely frozen, simply because of how much it reminded her of the twenty-two-year-old Jeremy she used to know. Swallowing, she struggled for her voice. “S-someone threw a rock at your parents’ house?” she asked hoarsely.

  “Yep.” He moved on to study one of her many bookshelves that lined the walls. “Shattered the front window in the living room. Mom’s gonna be pissed.”

  “God, this is a nightmare,” she groaned, shoving her tangled hair off her forehead. “I have to grab a shower and get dressed. Have a seat or whatever. I’ll be right back.”

  * * *

  “Take your time,” Jeremy murmured, wanting a few minutes to himself so that he could study her house without the distraction of her presence. Jillian headed down the hallway, leaving him alone in the living room. Whistling an old Metallica song under his breath, he stood in the center of the floor, his hands itching at his sides. He wanted to run them over the surface of her belongings, as if he could take in a part of her—learn her—simply by touching her things. A plush sofa in full-grain leather sat against the far wall, its rich chestnut color enhanced by the eggshe
ll hue of the wall at its back, with a black-and-white Ansel Adams print hanging above it. In front sat a low coffee table in dark mahogany, and on the opposite wall stood an armoire with expanding shelves that were packed with books, its center doors pulled shut so that the TV couldn’t be seen.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled with a grin as he remembered how much Jillian hated television. She’d always preferred a good book to watching TV. Still whistling, he headed down the hallway, walking past the door to the bathroom, the muffled sound of Jillian’s shower making him sweat. Needing a distraction from the thought of her naked body standing beneath the warm spray of water, he kept going until he found her bedroom at the end of the hall. Propping his shoulder against the door frame, Jeremy looked around, soaking up the intimate details like a flower soaking in sunlight and rain. They nurtured his soul in the same way, filling the empty hollows that had been starved for the details of her life.

  Shadows painted the rich gray of the back wall as watery morning sunlight crept past the sheer white drapes covering the windows. A classic iron bed with footboard and head-board sat catty-corner, facing the door, its white sheets sleep-rumpled, probably still warm from her body, and in another lifetime, he would have wanted to go and roll around in them, soaking in her scent. Would have wanted to lie on those soft sheets and open his eyes to the early morning rays of light spilling onto the warm nickel finish of the bed, watching it wash over the delicate features of the woman lying wrapped in his arms, her expression relaxed in sleep, a satisfied smile on her lips, the provocative mark of his teeth on her throat.

  “But you’re smarter than that now,” he huffed under his breath, hoping like hell it was true. Now, he just wanted to get as much of her as he could, for as long as he was there. Then he’d leave and get the hell on with his life. He’d find a way to—

  “Jeremy?”

  He jerked at the sound of her voice behind him, and felt his ears go hot, a muffled curse on his lips as she waited for him to turn around. The little daydream had left him rigid with arousal, and there was no way she’d fail to notice. Wearing a crooked grin, Jeremy turned and repositioned his shoulder against the frame, his long arms crossed over his chest.

  “You caught me,” he confessed in a husky rasp, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stared down at her. “I saw that bed and the moment got away from me.”

  She shivered, and he reached out and caught a drop of water that clung to an eyelash, careful not to hurt her. She was wrapped up in her grannie robe again, but underneath he knew she was warm and soft and naked, her skin still damp from the shower. He wanted to take her down to the floor so badly that he shook, his insides tremoring like a ground-breaking quake. “So,” he said softly, wondering if his smile looked as wolfish as he felt, “you wanna go to bed with me?”

  * * *

  Did she want to go to bed with him?

  Jillian placed one hand over her heart, the other across her lower abdomen, as if to protect herself, though she didn’t fear him physically. No, that had never been the problem. But there was something infinitely fragile inside of her, something breakable, that only he could destroy. In truth, she feared the things he could do to her. Things he could make her feel, make her crave. The way he could shatter her into pieces and leave her broken. And he could.

  Her heart was so very vulnerable to him, just like a slip of green breaking through the rugged ground to seek sustenance from the sun and rain, blooming with the heat and vitality of life, so fragile and easily ground into dust if not treated with care.

  But she was her own worst enemy—because everything deep inside of her, all those secret places and organs and churning depths of desire, they all burned for him, eager and willing to sacrifice the sense and rightness of protecting herself. They wanted to lunge forward and lay down in offering at his feet. Wanted to spread her thighs and beg to take him into her, make him a part of her, whether he destroyed her or not. Just to have him close. The musky, male scent of his skin, its heat and silken texture stretched hard over powerful muscles that could so easily break her if he forgot to be careful. All of it leading to the ultimate moment when her walls were lowered and he would discover one of the most closely guarded secrets of being a Spirit Walker. A secret that had kept her from acting on her powerful desires all those years ago—one that would quite simply reveal her heart to Jeremy in the most intimate way.

  No, she couldn’t risk it. She wouldn’t risk it.

  “You think we should hop into bed together, just like that?” She tried to keep her tone light, though it was virtually impossible.

  The heat in his eyes deepened, turning them a darker green, the skin stretched over his cheekbones flushed with color. “Yeah, just like that. The offer may sound casual, but I promise that once I get you there, there won’t be anything casual about it.”

  “God, Jeremy.” Her eyes closed, tears that she couldn’t hold in leaking from the corners. They were hot with emotion, with starved desires that were so tired of being hungry. Of being denied. “Why do you have to be so provoking?”

  “I haven’t even started.” He laughed softly under his breath, the sound rigid and strained, like his body. She felt his heat shift closer, and opened her eyes as she took a quick step back, needing to keep whatever distance between them she could.

  His dark gaze smoldered, a kaleidoscope of questions shifting through their depths, as he stared down at her. “Dammit, Jillian, stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Scurrying away like a frightened little mouse whenever I get near you.” He stepped even closer, until she could feel the physical heat of his body, the warmth of his breath…salty sweet, like his taste. So close she could see the golden shadow of stubble on his chin, the sexy crinkles at the corners of his hazel eyes. “I know I don’t scare you. Not physically. Not like that.”

  “You’re right,” she conceded. Her skin felt damp in intimate places, and she knew it wasn’t from her shower. She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, aware that her breath was coming faster, panting. “This is called self-preservation.”

  “You don’t want to let yourself get too close to me, and I can’t help but wonder why that is.” His voice lowered, deepened, while the look in his eyes went darker, his lids heavy as he held her stare, daring her to look away. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me, Jillian.”

  She found herself swaying toward him, when the memory of his words from the night before slammed into her, cutting through the haze of lust clouding her judgment. It hit with the jarring impact of a lightning strike, jolting her back to reality. He wanted her for sex—only for the moment, not forever. And if she gave in, when he left he would take a part of her with him. A part of her she could never get back.

  “No. I won’t do this,” she whispered, reaching up to press against his chest.

  “Do what?” he demanded, covering her hands with his own, the touch of his palms rough, warm. He flattened her hands against his chest, until she could feel the heavy, thundering beat of his heart. “What won’t you do? Sex? Me?” He gave a low, sinful laugh. “If ever there was a time to be specific, Jillian, it’s now.”

  “This…us…” she panted, trembling. “It isn’t going to happen.”

  One of his hands settled at her waist, the other curling around the back of her neck, supporting her head as she stared up at him. His lips parted slightly, eyes glowing with the visceral hunger of his wolf, the intense need carved into his hard expression making her breathless. When he spoke, the velvet-rough timbre of his voice was mesmerizing, deliciously seductive. “Do you know how hard I’ve tried to forget you?”

  She tried to respond, but couldn’t get the words past the tightness of her throat.

  Sensing his advantage, Jeremy moved closer still, and she found herself caught, trapped between his hard muscled length and the unyielding wall at her back. His chest pressed against the hard tips of her breasts, the shockingly thick bulge behind his fly lodged intimately a
gainst the hollow of her stomach, emotions churning in her belly like birds that had just been frightened into flight. “But every day your memory’s just grown stronger, sharper,” he murmured, that evocative voice deep and rich and rumbling…making her liquid and soft. “I’ve dreamed about you so many nights. Imagined having you under me. More times than I can count.”

  A choked sound vibrated in her throat, her eyes damp…hot. “God, Jeremy, don’t do this to me.”

  “It’s not me, it’s you. You’re the one who won’t stop tormenting me. Who won’t leave me in peace.” He lifted his hand from her waist, running the back of his knuckles along the curve of her cheek, stroking her skin with a tender, reverent touch that made her chest hurt, her heart pound. “I’ve seen it happen so many times in my dreams. Watched your eyes go hazy, these smooth cheeks flush with color. Heard your breath catch in the back of your throat. Felt you spill over my hand, around my fingers, while your screams filled my head. Felt your body take me in, squeezing me, so tight and hot and sweet I thought I’d go out of my mind.”

  She drew an unsteady breath. “It isn’t going to happen.”

  A sexy, irresistible smile played at his lips. “Yes, it will. As many times as I want it to. However many ways you can take it. I want them all, Jillian. Every goddamn one of them.”

  “Are you deaf,” she said shakily, “or just stubborn?”

  He leaned in close, and his lips touched her ear as he said, “I’m a realist, honey. It will happen, because it’s what we both want—what we both need. And when I’m buried deep inside you—heavy, hot, thick—you’re going to break so hard that you’ll scream. So hard that I’ll be able to taste your cries in my mouth. You can believe that, Jillian, even if you won’t believe anything else.”

  “Who do you think you are?” she whispered, hating the way her voice trembled…and not with anger. Oh, no. It was like some kind of switch had been flipped in her head…and now she was being sucked in…all her struggles surging against an ever-growing current that rendered them useless, destroyed. “You think I don’t know how good you are in bed? Ha! You think women haven’t relished shoving your reputation in my face over the years, every chance they got? I’m sure you can make a woman scream just by looking at her, Jeremy, but it isn’t going to work on me.”