Taming Tamara [Night Runner Werewolves 4] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Special Edition)

by Beverly Rae

  Bursting through the front door, the pack surged into the foyer and skidded to a stop. They grumbled at their leader’s command to dress and come to a meeting before resting. Shifting, they hurried to dress then followed Michael into the living room.

  “Maybe it’s time for a little payback.” Michael paced to the large window in the front of the home and crossed his arms. The moon cast shadows around the yard, and stars, unhidden by the smog of a large city, sparkled in the sky. Sara moved to stand beside him but opted to place her back to the window.

  William headed for the wet bar and began pouring drinks for himself and Ranlon. Jimmy and Mandy, as usual, came in hand in hand then settled next to each other. Max and Cally cuddled on the couch while Nick plopped onto his favorite worn leather chair.

  “What are you getting at, Michael?” Ranlon downed his drink then let William pour him a refill. His dark gaze flicked to Nick then over the others.

  Michael pivoted and hooked one arm around Sara. She leaned against him and answered for him. “He means that we think it’s time for you to send her a dream.”

  William leaned on the bar. “Are you sure she’s the one? Since this dream thing is backward with her doing the sending, maybe your senses are off. Maybe she’s making a move on you without thinking about who you’re really intended to mate.”

  Nick snorted. “No way. I felt the connection the second we touched. Hell, I felt it before I even saw her face.”

  “You mean when she whooped your sorry ass and ran you off the road?” Jimmy nudged Mandy, chuckling even as he told her to control her giggles.

  Nick ignored him. He’d taken enough ribbing about the race. “All I have is her name. Is that enough to send her a dream?”

  Sara came to him and rested her hand on his shoulder. As always, the bond she shared with all the men zipped through him. She was the alpha-female, and as such, mated to the men until they found their one true mate. “Of course it is. Especially since you’ve already met.”

  “Should be easy enough.” Max took Cally’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

  Easy? Nick wasn’t so sure. Tamara’s independent streak could pose a barrier to accessing her mind. Still, sending her a dream couldn’t hurt. If anything, it would strengthen their connection. “Should I go solo? Or with the pack?”

  Mandy and Cally exchanged a look before Mandy spoke. “I think a little of both would be good.”

  “How do you mean? Me and a few of the others?”

  Sara sat on the edge of his chair. “What I think Mandy means is that you should start with the men coming to her. As is our way, she’ll have to accept everyone and eventually go through the pack initiation so it’s best to prepare her like you all prepared Mandy and me.”

  Cally dipped her head. “I can never make up my mind if I missed out on not getting the dream or if I was lucky.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Max puffed out his chest. “Forget the dream. You were damned lucky I happened by Sadie’s when I did. Who knows what would’ve come of you if I hadn’t made you mine.” He adopted a terrible Mexican accent. “Baby, we didn’t need no stinkin’ dream.”

  Cally laughed and hugged him. “Whether I was lucky or not back then, I’m the luckiest woman now.”

  Mandy waved her hand, dismissing Cally’s claim. “That, girlfriend, is debatable. I’m the luckiest woman.”

  Sara gave her friends a smile. “We’re all pretty lucky. But back to the topic at hand. Send her one, Nick. Let her be on the receiving end for once. Show her you know what’s going on.”

  “Yeah.” Cally nodded. “But toward the last, make it just between the two of you. Let her get a glimpse of what it’ll be like to be mated to you.”

  Max played with a strand of Cally’s hair. “Listen to them, Nick. They know what they’re talking about.”

  “We’ll help.” Jimmy leaned forward on the couch.

  Rising, Nick squeezed Sara’s hand in thanks. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Nick hurried to his bedroom as the other men went to their beds. Locking the door behind him, he got into his bed, fully clothed, and closed his eyes.

  Relaxed, he breathed deeply and waited for the Night Runners to send him their power. They’d participate in the dream, realistic images of their real bodies. Later, in the initiation, would be the only time they would physically experience having sex with Tamara.

  A surge of the strong current that flowed between the members hit him and, if he’d been standing up, he would’ve crumpled to the floor. Instead, he took in another slower, longer breath and let their power seep into him. Closing his eyes, he pictured Tamara and willed his spirit to find hers.

  Tamara sensed him and she inhaled, his familiar scent tingling her nostrils. She sat up, yet instead of seeing her bedroom, a gray mist surrounded her bed. She waited, a lump caught in her throat. He was near. But he wasn’t alone.

  “Tamara.” Nick stepped out of the mist. His body glistened as though he’d just showered, the strong chest narrowing to the slender waist. The curly hair below sparkled almost as much as his eyes did. His cock was erect and ready.

  You came, she thought.

  His blue eyes darkened. “Of course I came. Isn’t that what you wanted all along? Why else would you send the dream?”

  She smiled, excitement building inside her and spoke out loud. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re an impatient woman. I would’ve found you soon enough. But it wasn’t time.”

  Not the time? Then how had she managed to send her dream to him? “I don’t understand. If it’s not time yet, then my dream wouldn’t have worked.”

  “But the time was close.” He settled on the edge of her bed.

  She ached for him to touch her, but he kept his hands to himself. “How did you do it, Tamara? What are you that you can send dreams? Are you a werewolf? Maybe a witch? Or something else?”

  “Do I look like a witch? But yes, I’m something else.”

  He laughed at her joke. Five more men stepped out of the mist, each man’s body as muscled and sinfully sexy as the next. She smiled to welcome them.

  “Tell us what you are.” One of the dark-haired men, his gaze narrowed, took a step closer.

  Now she remembered them, knew their faces. Only when she was asleep and immersed in a dream could she do so. But she wasn’t ready to tell them everything. Hadn’t Miss Louise told her to keep the mystery going?

  “What I am doesn’t matter, Michael. What is important is that you’ve found me.” She captured Nick with her gaze and a sizzle of desire raked through her. “That Nick and I have found each other.”

  Ranlon rubbed a finger against his nose. “She’s right. For now, anyway. Let’s do what we came to do.” He smiled, his eyes changing until flecks of amber overcame the black.

  “Yes. Do what you came to do.” She shivered, heat coursing through her belly.

  The men moved to surround her, their eyes changing, filling with amber. Nick crawled onto the bed next to her and cupped her cheek.

  “I’m glad you sent the dream.”

  She took his hand and kissed his palm, letting him know how much she cared. She released it and he slid his fingers along her arm, caressing her as though she were a delicate flower.

  She lay back, spreading her arms above her head. “Touch me. I want to have your hands on me. I want to know the feel of each of you.” She closed her eyes and waited.

  The bed moved under her as they climbed on top. A hand skimmed her shoulder, moving in a slow, easy circle. Someone took her nipple between his fingers then rubbed the pebbled bud with his thumb. She moaned, concentrating on learning each man’s touch.

  Two hands, different in size, slid along her thighs and into the creases between her legs and torso. She gasped, surprised when a hand gripped her foot and started massaging her arch. Even that touch was sensual, striking a match to the embers of her yearning. Someone else stroked her hair and she sighed, loving his
tender attention.

  “More.”

  Hands covered her now, massaging, stroking, squeezing. Moistness flooded her pussy and she spread her legs. Would no one touch her there?

  As soon as she’d had the thought, someone slipped a finger between her folds. She inhaled then giggled. Since when had she ever been ticklish there?

  The tension of the day fled her. She focused, guessing which hand belonged to which man. At last, she had to know and opened her eyes.

  “I know your touches. I can tell them apart.”

  “I want you to know more than just my touch.” Nick leaned over and pressed his mouth to hers. Gentle at first, he grew more insistent, pushing his tongue through her lips in search of hers. She wrapped her hands around his neck.

  “Let’s see if she can tell us apart in another way.”

  Nick pulled away from her. “What are you thinking, Ranlon?”

  Ranlon grabbed her ankles and pulled her, bringing her to the end of the bed. She laughed then sucked in her breath when he placed his hand over her mons.

  “Close your eyes, Tamara. See if you can tell which one is which.”

  How had they known she liked games? Especially sexual games? She did as he told her to and gripped the comforter. Again the bed moved as the men changed positions.

  Someone came behind her to sit her up, his hard chest rubbing her back as he reached around and cupped her breasts. She covered one of his hands with hers.

  Michael.

  “No, babe. You need to do something else with your hand.” Max took her hand and curved her fingers to form a cup. “Hold onto these.”

  Soft round balls filled her hand. She moved her fingers, playing with him.

  But play took a serious turn when another man took her legs then pushed his face against her pussy. Hot liquid surged outward from her core. Leaning against Michael, she spread her legs wider. She jerked as a mouth closed over her clit and sucked.

  The caresses continued, but now they added kisses. She arched, pushing against Michael and another man—William?—fondled her breasts. Nick took her face, urging her to turn her head for a kiss. He nibbled on her bottom lip even as Ranlon nibbled on her lower lips. She mewled, unable to resist reaching out to take Nick’s cock.

  Abruptly, Ranlon left her pussy and the chilly air of the mist sent shudders through her.

  “My turn.” Max’s voice was gruff, filled with lust, but she still recognized it. He moved close, his fingers opening her to him. He pleasured her, drinking from her then lashing her until she didn’t believe she could handle any more. She cried out, a joyful sound, as he latched onto her and drove her to her first orgasm.

  “Move, Max.” Jimmy eased between her legs and, without warning, darted his tongue inside her. She bucked and squeezed the shafts in her hands.

  “You’re not supposed to talk.” She laughed then moaned.

  “Forget the game, Tamara.” Nick’s whisper soothed her. “And remember those are delicate tools you’re holding.”

  Another climax whipped her as Jimmy blew on her skin. Hands slid over her body, delighting her in their exploration of her curves.

  “I can’t stand it much longer, guys.” The bed rose as William went to take his turn. He lay between her legs and added his touch to her throbbing clit.

  Each man was different. Each hand was textured in its own unique way. And each tongue was an instrument all its own. She remembered, taking in the way each man pushed, sucked and held her. If she had to, she could pick them out of a crowd of hundreds.

  William slicked his tongue along her folds. Heat, hotter than the sun of a hot Texas summer, blazed across her skin to boil the climax stirring within her. He paused only to take a breath then renewed his attack.

  She sensed their connection to her, a stronger bond than any she’d ever experienced. But above all else, she knew where her greatest bond lay. “Nick.” Her voice shook as she waited for him to take his turn between her legs.

  But she found she couldn’t wait. Even as Nick licked her, pulling her apart to drive his tongue into her, she wanted more. “Please. Fuck me.”

  He didn’t pause, didn’t question her. Instead he stood and tugged her legs around his waist.

  “Not yet, man. You need to go last.” Ranlon’s tone was thick with hunger.

  “It’s okay.” Michael, the only one who hadn’t had his time between her legs, chuckled. “Let him have her. Our time will come later.”

  Nick eased into her, groaning as her vaginal walls clamped around him. Opening her eyes, she met his amber gaze and reached for him. The muscles in his chest and arms moved with power. His toned abdomen rippled as he thrust in and out. He slid his hand over the star tattoo below her belly button as though he’d found a hidden treasure.

  Ranlon supported her back now as the others teased her with their hands, their lips, their tongues. But she was transfixed, needing, wanting Nick.

  Sweat clung to his brow. She held onto his treelike arms, her breaths matching his. The whirlwind inside her grew in intensity, spinning inside her to travel from her pussy to her head. Her mind went blank, every nerve, every sense taken over by Nick.

  His curved end struck her sweet spot. She cried out, an enormous climax tearing her apart and driving her into darkness.

  When she awoke she was alone and reaching for the man of her dreams. The sheets were torn from her bed, the comforter bunched at the end of the bed. She sat up to scan the room, yet she knew she’d find nothing. They’d leave no evidence. Dreams never did.

  * * * *

  She was pushing her luck. Glancing over her shoulder, Tamara once again checked the road. If Jackson got wind of where she’d gone, who’d she’d gone to meet, all hell would break loose. But when Nick had asked her to come back to the bar, she couldn’t have resisted if she’d wanted to.

  She pulled into the almost empty parking lot of the Whiskey River Bar, turned off her bike, and scanned the area around her, searching for any signs of Jackson. Taking off her helmet, she hooked it on her handlebars and strode toward the front door.

  Here I come, Nick.

  She stepped into the Whiskey River Bar and paused to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light. The few customers who were already there glanced at her then went back to their drinks. If she hadn’t already sensed Nick’s presence, she would have found him quickly enough. He was already striding toward her, a wide grin on his face. She couldn’t help but grin back.

  “Hi.” He was close, in her personal space, but she didn’t mind one bit. Truth be told, she wanted him closer.

  “I’m glad you came.”

  Was it just her or was he having trouble breathing, too? “Me, too.”

  He turned and waved at a woman with wild blue hair. Jealousy hit her in the gut, and she had to struggle to keep from scowling.

  Nick tilted his head to the side and gave her a knowing look. “Candace is the owner-manager of the place. She’s my boss and my friend.”

  She lifted her shoulders, both to appear nonchalant and to ease the tension setting up shop in her neck. “Can we go outside and talk?” The less people who saw them together, the better.

  “Sure. My boss gave me the afternoon off.”

  The whole afternoon? She hadn’t expected that. Not that she wasn’t happy about it. She led the way outside where Nick took her hand and brought her around to the back of the bar.

  “I want to take you someplace.”

  She let him lead her as she glanced over her shoulder several times, checking again for any sign of Jackson. “I thought we already were someplace.”

  He chuckled and held back the underbrush to keep it from scraping her face. Pushing through a dense thicket, she came out the other side to a small clearing. A brook split the area in two. She stopped, taking in the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, lighting the water and making the stream glisten with sparks of silver. Birds chirped overhead and the sound of the running water put her at ease.

  “I always th
ought the phrase ‘babbling brook’ was just a saying. But it’s true. It really is babbling.”

  He helped her onto a large rock at the edge of the water then sat next to her. She inhaled at the flash of desire heating her with his body so close. Nick paused, sending her a look of blatant yearning. “If only we could understand what it’s saying. I wonder how many other couples have sat here, learning about each other?”

  Surprised, she studied his face to see if he was kidding. She could tell he wasn’t. “Why, Nick Rogers, you sound like a romantic.”

  “Hey, I’m in touch with my tender side.” He reconsidered what he’d said. “My tender side. Not my feminine side. There’s nothing girly about me.”

  She laughed and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Trust me. I know. But a strong man with a tender side? Now that’s something special.”

  “A good kind of special, I hope.”

  “Oh, most definitely a good kind of special.”

  He skimmed the back of his fingers along her cheek. “You don’t know how much I want to make love to you right now.”

  “Not as much as I want you to do it.” She closed her eyes and parted her lips, waiting for him to kiss her.

  “But I’m not going to.”

  She jerked away from him, the warmth of embarrassment flooding into her neck, then into her face. “Oh.” What else could she say?

  He cupped her chin, his glaze flitting to her mouth, then back to her eyes. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Every ounce of my being is telling me to throw you on the ground and take you. But there’s something I want even more.”

  “What’s that?” She whispered, almost unable to say anything.

  He dropped his hand, let out a long breath, then raked his hand over his red hair. “I’m not going to kiss you. It’s hard enough just touching you. But what I want is to learn more about you.”