Pursued by a Werewolf (Mystic Isle, Book 4)

by Blake, Selena

  “We're going to — crack — the glass,” she said on a sigh.

  He leaned in even closer, crowding her. His pelvis kept moving, thrusting that magnificent cock into her. And at the same time, they were moving forward. Just a step here. Thrust there. Another step. His chest pressed against her back and he just kept on coming until she was pressed up against the floor to ceiling mirror from her breasts to her belly.

  She was so close to the wall that she turned her head sideways to keep from kissing it. They were a tangle of limbs and still, he was holding back somehow. Heat scorched over her shoulders and she soaked it in, enjoying the unusual sensation. She wanted to keep it. Hold it forever.

  But then Hunter skimmed a hand down her side and slid it between her legs. Yes, yes, yes.

  He kissed the corner of her lips as his finger found her clit and made a quick circle around it. And again. One more time and she saw stars. He was right there with her. His hips pinned against hers as he released inside of her, a delicious growling sound vibrating from his chest through her, teasing her ears.

  He kept his finger on her special little pulse point and she convulsed in his arms, bucking back into him as her body rippled and twisted.

  Perfection. Bliss. No. Perfection.

  He circled her clit again and then pressed down with a firm pressure that ignited something else inside her.

  “Come for me.”

  She already had… But his deep voice, his delicious command, ignited her. A mighty heat swept through every corner of her body and pure, unadulterated pleasure exploded. It had to be an explosion. She'd never felt so...apart. And yet together. Blinded and yet she could see with a startling clarity. She screamed and her voice, ragged with ecstasy bounced off the walls. Everything was better. Her senses, sharper. Her body, warmer.

  She couldn't hold herself up. Could barely breathe. And still the pleasure came. Wave after wave of the sweetest feelings. Unimaginable feelings. Physical, yes... but also emotional. Safe. Secure. Happy.

  When Hunter stopped pressing her into the mirror, her muscles, high on whatever that fabulousness was, gave out. She started to slide to the floor.

  But he caught her and they collapsed backward, his cock still inside her.

  “I'll never look at a yoga mat the same way again,” he said.

  His skin was wonderfully sweaty from their exertion. She lay on top of him, head pillowed against his chest. Her hair had to be scattered in every direction as she stared up at the ceiling, still breathing deep. Her body continued to tingle.

  “That...was...amazing.”

  He grunted in what she hoped was agreement.

  “I almost passed out.”

  “I'm glad you hung in there. You would have missed the good part.”

  “This is pretty good.” She gave a little shimmy, loving the way their bodies fit against each other. Snuggling was not something she allowed herself to do, but with Hunter it felt so natural. She felt whole for the first time in over thirty years. To cover up the deep emotion swamping her like a rough sea, she said “can we do that again?”

  His cock twitched and she giggled.

  “I take that as a yes.”

  “Absolutely. I'm gonna need a nap first though.”

  “A nap? You? Mr. Tall, Dark and Ridiculously Buff? Since when do you nap?”

  “Mr. Tall Dark and Ridiculously Buff?” he countered, amusement coloring his voice.

  “Well you know. I don't like to repeat what the other ladies say...unless it's true.”

  There was a long companionable silence, his ribcage rising and falling beneath her back. She stared up at the ceiling amazed at how her body still hummed with pleasure.

  “Avery?”

  His voice startled her. She blinked, glancing around the room at annoyed and curious immortals. Hunter’s brows were lifted in question. How long had she been daydreaming? Had it all been a daydream?

  She apologized profusely and led the class into the next yoga position.

  She licked her lips and glanced at Hunter. He wasn’t cool exactly, but there was something different about the man. Two days ago he’d been friendly, funny, charming, but nothing more. Yes, he’d swept her up into his arms and there’d been nothing platonic about her feelings. But he hadn’t tried to take it any further.

  Of course, compared to his dream self, he was acting like a saint. She shouldn’t compare the real life man with the naughty devil who met her in her dreams.

  Darnit, Avery. Stay focused. Mind on the class.

  Once again she wondered if he had finally given up on a relationship with her? Or was this new nonchalant side a change of tactic? Was he playing hard to get, hoping to stoke her interest?

  Stop thinking about him. Stop looking at him. Was he smirking? She ought to whip out one of her toughest poses just to wipe that--

  No. It was just a daydream. No matter how real it had seemed. Rather than get stuck in a downward spiral of questions about his motives, she moved on. Successfully this time.

  Focusing on the other students for the remainder of the class helped a lot. But as soon as the class ended she was acutely aware of him again, could feel his eyes on her as she pulled her hair back in a fresh pony tail.

  Her practical side, the part she promised herself was her dominant half, knew that sex was about more than romance. It was useful for exercise. Procreation, of course. But release and well-being too. There was no logical reason not to find that release with a man as handsome and talented as Hunter Ciolek.

  And she knew for a fact that the real thing far outdid the imaginary Hunter Ciolek.

  But one look at him had her practical side shutting down. That was dangerous. Rather than seeing a sex partner, she saw a man. A man with a history, emotions, family, friends, and feelings. A man who made her laugh and brought her drinks. A man who was good to his family and friends.

  She took a long sip of water so she'd be forced to look away from him. With a towel draped around his neck the man looked too yummy for his own good. Hers too.

  To compound the problem, she hadn’t been the least bit interested in any of the handsome men she’d come across since arriving on the island four days ago. Not one had given her a single flutter, a sputter of interest, and glimmer of an orgasm.

  That daydream had been far more than a glimmer. She felt the need to return to her room for a little personal time.

  Sighing to herself, she stowed her mat in her bag and cinched the drawstring tight. Pearl had moved their class to early the following morning, so she didn’t have any sort of distraction to resort to.

  He’d just stowed his mat when two of his female classmates strode up to him, arms draped across each other's waist in obvious invitation.

  Avery rolled her eyes. She wasn't about to vie for his attention. Not that she wanted his attention. She didn't. Except in class. But outside of class, she didn't need anything more than a willing partner who knew how to seal the deal.

  A little voice in the back of her mind whispered that he more than knew how to seal the deal. And he was the perfect partner.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Avery gathered her things and strode out the door, needing some time to herself. Distance from the man who’d been filling her mind for far too many days. He was making her crazy. She needed him like never before one minute and the next she had to watch him smile at two life-sized Barbie dolls.

  No thanks.

  The pull of the sun was strong. She could tell without looking at the time that it wasn’t yet dark out. It’d be easy to flash back to the cottage, but she needed a drink. A real drink.

  Then personal time.

  Less than three steps down the hallway, Hunter was at her side. She knew it was him before he spoke thanks to her supersensitive hearing. They’d spent enough time together that she recognized the cadence of his heartbeat.

  How sappy was that?

  “Good class.”

  “Thanks. Missed you yesterday.” She wanted to snatch the words
back. But why should she. It was the truth.

  A look of surprise stole across his handsome face. “You did?”

  “What can I say? I like your smile.” And everything else…but she kept that thought carefully guarded.

  He graced her with one of those killer smiles that sent butterflies through her stomach. Damn, he was potent. From the gentle wave of his dark hair, the glittering green eyes, straight down to his toes. The man had good looking feet. Who knew that was such a turn on?

  “I’m meeting Maxim and Ceara for a late dinner. You coming?”

  “Are your girlfriends coming?” Why had she asked that? She had no reason to be jealous. Like she’d told Pearl, Hunter wasn’t hers. She didn’t care if he slept with everyone on the island.

  If only that was true.

  So, she’d have to work on the not caring bit. And shutting up that little voice in the back of her mind.

  “They offered. I wasn’t interested.”

  Avery thought it best to remain silent. Otherwise she would sound like a bitch and she didn’t want him thinking that she cared one way or another. Her private struggles needed to remain just that. Private.

  “Do you—” He paused.

  She waited for him to finish. “What?” she asked when he didn’t continue. They hung a right down the wide central hall.

  “Nevermind.”

  As curious as she was about what he’d wanted to say, she wasn’t going to beg. “Where are you meeting your brother?”

  “Club Daylight.”

  Of course. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was following her. Why did that thought make her a little giddy? She was supposed to be getting her drink, having a little one on one time with her battery operated boyfriend and forgetting about her plan to get Hunter to scratch her itch.

  But when a group of rambunctious guys almost bowled her over and Hunter pulled her out of harm’s way, she was suddenly back in the daydream. Warm, safe, happy.

  Her body immediately vetoed her heart.

  She tightened her hand around the strap of her yoga bag. “Okay. I’m in.”

  “I’m gonna hit the showers. See you in half an hour?”

  He didn’t need a shower. He was perfect just as he was, but she kept that thought to herself.

  She nodded and then headed for the Tiki bar, in search of a stiff drink. Cal was behind the bar, popping tops on a long line of beers. Another rowdy group of guys took up a couple of tables in the corner. They hit on the waitress and laughed when she swatted their hands away.

  Avery shook her head at their antics and plopped onto the barstool. She watched Cal shake his head at the pretty brunette waitress and gather the beers on a tray, delivering them himself.

  She smiled at his protectiveness. He reminded her of Hunter.

  Her body was still on red alert thanks to that wickedly realistic fantasy. Squirming atop the seat, she studied the liquor bottles on the wall. If only that daydream had been real. If only he’d sweep her into his arms and touch her, drive her wild, make her feel so…complete.

  Maybe she should renegotiate their deal. Would that work? Could she just walk up to him and say…what exactly? Let’s go back to my place? She sighed and rested her chin in her palm.

  Renegotiating their deal wouldn’t stop other women from checking him out. It wouldn’t stop her ridiculous jealousy. About the only thing it would do was keep her from resorting to pleasuring herself. This was Mystic Isle! She should be able to find someone to rev her engine here. She shouldn’t have to go back to France unfulfilled and…itchy.

  When Cal returned, he shot her a smile, but it wasn’t as bright as normal. He didn’t look well rested either, or as easy going as he usually did. Was the conversation she’d overheard the other night to blame?

  “Cocktail?” he asked, both hands on the bar.

  “Yes, please.”

  He nodded and moved away to fix her drink. She watched his easy movements. He was totally at home behind the bar: making small talk with customers, mixing drinks, tidying the bar and the bottles on the glass shelves on the wall behind him.

  Despite her feelings about relationships and destiny, she hated the idea that someone couldn’t be with the person they loved. It reminded her of her own love. Her own relationship and how she’d been denied that chance at forever. The ache in her heart was less these days but she doubted it’d ever fully go away. As it was, it felt like a mass of scar tissue in her chest. A strong reminder of what she’d had, what she’d lost and why it was better to have fun with no intentions of forever.

  “Everything all right?” Cal asked as he placed a goblet in front of her. He looked at her with friendly concern.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He huffed out a short laugh. “You don’t sound too convinced of that.”

  He really was good at his job. Just like a good bartender should, he got to know his customers, worked his way into their confidences and made them feel like a friend.

  But she couldn’t tell him what was really bothering her, especially not after what she’d heard in the bushes the other night. He was obviously suffering and if anyone needed comforting it was him.

  “I’m not. But I’ll get over it.”

  “Time does that.” He didn’t sound so sure himself.

  “One would think.” Time had created a blissful amount of space between now and her old life. But it had never really wiped away the memories. Sure, faces she’d once known as well as her own were now blurry, just vellum covered images in her mind’s eye. The betrayal didn’t sting as it once had. These days it was more like a sore muscle.

  Making a concerted effort, she straightened and took a sip of her cocktail as he wiped down the counters. He kept one eye on the group of guys. Was he worried that they’d start trouble? Latham had a strict no violence policy and as an all-seeing god, he had no problem policing his island. It was like he was a magnet for any nefarious intention.

  “How’ve you been?” she asked Cal.

  “Good.” He put away the rag, washed his hands and then started polishing glasses. “That’s not entirely true,” he said without lifting his gaze from the highball in his hands. “I’ve been better.”

  “Seems wrong, doesn’t it? To be surrounded by paradise and not be crazy happy?”

  He did that huff laugh thing again. “That’s the problem, the crazy happiness. I had it. And now that it’s gone, it’s so fucking obvious.”

  As if he came-to and realized where he was and that he was talking to a customer, he straightened and apologized.

  She waved off his concern. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve heard far worse. And for the record, I know how you feel.”

  Idly, she traced her finger around the rim of the glass, letting the soothing motion take her back in time. After a deep breath she met his gaze again.

  “I honestly do. I know how you can have that one moment of pure, perfect bliss where you think everything is right with the world. Happiness was your cloak and you went to bed eagerly anticipating the sunrise the next morning. And then all of that comes crashing down. Worse, actually. The rug gets pulled out from under you first. The swift, hard fall knocks the wind right out of you. And as you’re lying there practically helpless, that’s when the shit hits the fan. And then you’re covered in it. And nothing is ever the same again. Not your heart. Nor your faith in humanity. Or even…love.”

  There was a long moment of silence and Avery felt something wet on her cheek. She reached up and wiped away a tear, surprised that her tear ducts even worked after all this time. Thirty years ago, she’d cried herself to death.

  “Fuck,” Cal uttered. “You sound like you need something stronger than that cocktail.” He reached onto the back shelf where Latham kept the best whiskey and pulled down an elaborate bottle.

  The glass had a silver sheen to it, almost like an antique mirror. Black wire hugged the neck of the bottle in an ornate, almost lace-like, design. She knew from her years living with Valencia how expen
sive the bottle was. Likely thirty thousand US. But then, V liked the best.

  Avery took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “It was a long time ago.”

  He nodded in understanding as he poured a shot of the whiskey. “On the house,” he said and pushed the small glass toward her.

  She eyed the lovely amber liquid. One shade darker and it would match Hunter’s eyes. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

  Maybe that was it. She couldn’t stop thinking of him. Couldn’t stop the gut reaction to two women coming onto him. Regardless of what she told herself, she hadn’t really stopped wanting him after she’d kissed him goodbye two solstices ago.

  “The good news is, time does have a way of making things better. If you let yourself feel better,” she told him, staring into the small glass.

  Her advice was the truth. Time had healed many of her wounds. But still, they held her back. Not the pain, but the memories. So the question was, was she ready to let herself feel better? To stop denying her desire? To try again at life and love?

  A ruckus from the guys in the corner drew her attention and Cal went over to supervise. He was tall, lean, good looking. So were many of the men surrounding the corner tables. But she didn’t feel a single tingle. Didn’t have any desire to kiss them or let them touch her. Couldn’t imagine curling up in front of a bonfire with any of them.

  And there was her answer.

  She stared down at the whiskey again.

  “You’re gonna have to drink it, doll. I can’t pour it back into the bottle,” Cal said.

  Avery’s lips curved up and she reached for the shot glass. She lifted it to her lips and swallowed the shot whole. The whiskey was smooth and scalding at the same time, lighting a fire within her as it raced down her throat.

  She didn’t have a lot to compare it to, but she could appreciate the easy blaze.

  “I’ll have one of those.”

  She recognized Hunter’s voice immediately. He settled onto the stool to her left and even though they weren’t touching, she felt like his big body was crowding her. Just like he had in the daydream.