The Wolf In The White House

by Bonnie Burrows

  “I built it myself,” he said proudly. “I built the entire cabin with the help of my family. But everything you see in here was my idea. From the wood beams that were sanded until they were shiny to the smallest stone worked into the flooring.”

  “And it’s all self-sustaining?”

  “Completely off the grid, and all of our water is collected from the rain by units outside each building. And that drain leads out to my garden.”

  “That is pretty cool.”

  “It is.” He reached onto a shelf in the shower, showing her where there were three tiny, ceramic bowls, each filled with a fragrant liquid. “Shampoo, soap and something to keep your hair from getting too tangled. Everything is made from plant extracts of plants found in this area.”

  She inhaled deeply and smiled.

  “People pay thousands to stay in resorts like this,” she said. “But this is how you live every day.”

  “Enjoy,” he said, stepping out of the room after opening a small closet, pulling out a towel, and setting it on the edge of the sink for her.

  Maci turned the water on, stepping into the cool water that poured from a spout above her head. She worked the fragrant shampoo into her hair, inhaling the scent of sun-warmed honeysuckle and something else she couldn’t quite name. The stress of the day and all the dirt she’d accumulated on their long hike washed down the drain, the cool water invigorating as it poured over her. Next came the plant oils that she worked into her hair to soak in while she scrubbed her body clean.

  She was done too soon, turning off the water and stepping out into the middle of the room to get the towel and dry off. Her castoff, dirty clothes were there on the floor, the bottoms of her pants covered with mud, and the fabric too dirty to wear to bed. She hadn’t brought anything to the bathroom with her to change into, and she didn’t have anything that even remotely resembled pajamas. When she had packed her go bag months ago, she hadn’t considered that she would be sleeping.

  With a heavy sigh, she wrapped the towel around herself, scooping up her dirty clothes and leaving the room. She padded down the hall in her bare feet, following the light to the large bedroom at the end of the house.

  She opened the door, catching him changing in the brightly lit room, pulling his boxers up before she realized that she had just walked in to see his bare ass in front of her.

  She blushed and turned away, muttering an apology.

  “No need to apologize,” he laughed. “It’s really not a big deal.”

  He took her dirty clothes, tossing them in with his own and turning back to look at her, still standing there in nothing but boxers.

  “I should have remembered that you liked to sleep naked. It was one of the more pleasant surprises when I broke into your house.”

  “I do, but not here. I don’t have anything to wear to bed. I was hoping that you had something.”

  “I do,” he said. “I think I’d like to see you in one of my shirts.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she said, rolling her eyes. “There’s nothing to see.”

  “Says you,” he countered, his eyes raking over her bare shoulders and collarbone. “You’re beautiful naked, but I think wearing my shirt might be even better.”

  He tossed her an oversized t-shirt as she stood there, mouth agape, trying to think of something snappy to say.

  “You didn’t see me naked. It was dark.”

  “I have excellent night vision,” he quipped. “I saw more than you think.”

  “Well, I hope you have a good memory,” she shot back. “Because that is the one and only time.”

  When he just smiled at her, she rolled her eyes.

  “Could you at least turn around and pretend to give me some privacy?”

  “I could,” he said without moving.

  When she shot him an angry look, he turned his back to her with a wide smile on his face.

  “Thank you,” she said curtly, pulling the shirt over her head before dropping the towel.

  He was still turned around when she slipped into the bed, tossing the damp towel at him when she was in the bed and covered.

  “Can you hang this up for me?” she asked sweetly, teasing him.

  “Of course,” he said.

  He arched an eyebrow at her, his expression playful as he hung up the towel to dry and turned out the light. He crawled into bed after her, snuggling beneath the sheets and pulling the quilt up around his shoulders.

  The open window let the cool night air in, and Maci shivered involuntarily.

  “Does the window close?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “We let the outside in. That is how we stay connected to the land.”

  “Do you have more blankets?”

  “No. Werewolves run hot. Are you cold?”

  “Very.”

  She felt his arm come around her, and she almost wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Almost.

  He pulled her close, tucking her against his body and pulling the quilt tighter around her.

  “Is that better?” he asked.

  “So much better,” she said with noticeable relief.

  Her body flushed in response to his closeness, but she ignored it and the heat that flooded through her. She was cold, and as much as she wanted to put distance between herself and Logan, if only for her own sanity, she was too exhausted to keep fighting herself. Yes, he was attractive and there was something about his touch that set her nerves on fire, but that didn’t mean she had to act on it. She was an intelligent woman with a mind of her own. Just because she felt like acting on her feelings didn’t mean she was going to.

  Feeling satisfied with her decision and letting sleep creep in slowly, she realized that she had only gotten two hours of sleep in the past forty-eight hours. That explained why she was so exhausted, and it might even explain why she had so much trouble keeping her wits about herself when Logan got too close. She was tired, and her mind wasn’t as clear as it normally was. She would feel like herself in the morning, and all of these issues with Logan would fade as easily as the darkness when the sun rose.

  All she had to do was make it through the night without throwing herself at him, and she would be as good as new in the morning.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Maci rolled over in the darkness, reaching out and connecting with the solid muscles across his bare chest.

  “I’m still here,” he said in the darkness.

  “I know,” she said, stroking the smooth skin of his chest. “I just needed to feel that you were still here.”

  “Did you have a nightmare?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, shivering against the overwhelming loneliness she had woken up to.

  “Come here,” he said.

  He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly and tucking her under his chin. She wound her arms around him, holding him close and closing her eyes. She inhaled the scent of him—the crisp scent of fresh air and the forest mingling with the honeysuckle scent that still clung to her own damp hair.

  She laid her cheek on his chest, trying to calm the beating of her heart. She didn’t know what had awakened her in the night, but she’d woken up scared, certain that he was gone and wouldn’t be back. Now that she could feel him, she felt better. Calmer.

  “I thought you were gone,” she said, though she didn’t know where the words came from. “I just thought that I would never see you again.”

  “It was a dream. I’m not leaving you. I can’t leave you; you’re my Fated Mate.”

  She heard the words echo in her mind, but she didn’t argue with him. They sounded right and good, like they were meant to be said in this moment and in this space.

  His body was hot against hers again, and even though she felt rested and better than she had in days, her body still reacted to him with wild abandon. Heat flooded between her legs, and her nipples tightened beneath the fabric of his shirt that she still wore.

  “Why ignore it?” he asked, sliding his hand along her ba
re hip, his fingers just grazing her ass cheek. “You’ve been fighting this feeling for so long, and I’ve watched you. You’re miserable. It’s just sex, nothing more. It won’t change anything.”

  “What if it changes everything?”

  “Would that be so bad?” he asked.

  His hand was still caressing her skin, and she could feel his thumb on the top of her thigh and so close to the heat of her that a fresh wave of longing ran through her.

  His hand was under the hem of the t-shirt now, sliding up her hip and her waist, over her ribs and skirting past her breasts before heading back down again.

  “You’re teasing me,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You’ve been teasing me for days. When my kind feels this way, we act on it. But you turn away every time. It’s hard on me.”

  She giggled into his shoulder.

  “No pun intended, right?”

  “They are never intended but always brilliant.”

  He pushed the shirt up, propping himself on one elbow so he could look at her in the darkness.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his hand stroking her gently, passing up all the obvious erogenous zones and intentionally driving her mad. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw your sweet face. It feels like I’ve been waiting an eternity.”

  “But we just met,” she said, moving her body against his hand as they talked, completely unaware of what she was doing. “It’s been two days.”

  “For you. I dreamed of you before I even know your name. Just because I didn’t see you in real-life until the moment you shocked me with a stun gun doesn’t mean that I didn’t already know you.”

  “That is impossible,” she said, making no move to stop him when he finally cupped one breast in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the tender flesh that hardened at his touch.

  “Nothing is impossible.”

  “But how can you believe in something like that?”

  “It’s Fate. It’s always been Fate; you’ve always been my Fate.”

  Her head was spinning with his words and his touch as she struggled to hold onto her senses with his naked body so close to hers.

  He slipped the shirt over her head, pulling her close so her breasts were pressed against his chest. She moved against him, her body begging him for his touch even as she was trying to convince herself that she didn’t want him.

  You’re lying to yourself, she chided herself. You’ve wanted him from the moment you awoke in your room with him there.

  “For that long?” he said aloud.

  “Maybe longer,” she admitted. “I don’t know when it happened.”

  “We can stop,” he said, his manhood only inches from the center of her body.

  “We don’t have to,” she said, quieting the little voice that told her that she was being rash.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  He kissed her gently, his mouth covering hers and pressing softly against her lips. She kissed him back, threading her hands through his hair and pulling him closer.

  She didn’t answer him, pressing her hips up, rubbing her heat against his and making her intentions clear.

  He growled low in his throat, scooping her up and rolling on top of her in one smooth motion. He slid against her, and she opened her legs to him, pushing up until he slipped inside her, her body already more than ready to receive him.

  She watched him as he closed his eyes, his body still as he savored the feel of her around his shaft. When he started moving inside her, she moaned softly, then wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper and holding him close.

  Their bodies moved as one, their pace quickening in-sync as the heat grew within them. Maci’s arms were around Logan’s neck, holding on as she writhed beneath him. Her movements were frantic, in stark contrast to his patient, though hurried, movements.

  He chuckled, the sound deep and masculine as he deliberately slowed his movements, drawing out the delicious torture as her orgasm loomed.

  “I need you,” she said in desperation, pulling herself against him as he held them both off the bed with his strong forearms. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  His lips were on her neck, kissing her senseless, while he ignored her pleas for a quick release. He had been waiting too, and he wasn’t about to let her out of his arms so quickly.

  He balanced himself on one arm, cradling her in the other and rolling so that she was on top of him. She smiled wickedly, in full control now, with her wolf at her mercy.

  Logan reached out, taking one breast in each hand and kneading them almost roughly as she moved on his rigid member, her hips moving in time with his, her movements gaining speed as she drew closer to her release.

  Her eyes locked on his, a soft smile on her face as the tension built within her and she pushed them both closer to their climax. She watched his face, and she could see that his control was breaking. His body trembled with the effort to hold off after he had teased her so mercilessly and made her wait.

  She leaned down, kissing him and bearing down, dragging the last bits of restraint from him with each thrust. She nipped at his neck, and the last of his resolve fled. Strong arms went around her, pulling her impossibly close as he raised up from the mattress to meet her, driving into her with deep, powerful strokes.

  She cried out the instant he did, her orgasm finally claiming her as he lost his own tenuous grip on control. She called out his name, oblivious to the open window that was right above their heads, her voice echoing in the still mountain air.

  She buried her face in his shoulder, screaming into his neck and calling his name over and over again.

  When the waves finally subsided, she rolled off of him, laughing as her body convulsed with the last bit of pleasure that still coursed through her body. She reached out to him, longing for his touch again.

  The bed was empty, the space where he’d been moments before ice cold. She sat up, feeling around in the darkness for him and finding herself completely and utterly alone.

  “Logan?” she said into the darkness, straining her eyes to see in the dim hall light that flooded into the room.

  She got out of bed, pulling the t-shirt over her head and not bothering to check to see if it was inside out or not.

  She walked out of the room, her bare feet silent on the chilly floor.

  She stepped out of the room and into the forest, the cabin disappearing behind her. Startled, she turned, but the village was gone, and only the cold, wet grass was beneath her feet.

  She turned in a circle, looking for any sign of the cabins that made up the small village deep in the forest, but she was alone.

  Walking, then running, she circled the clearing, sure that the cabins had been here just moments before. She blinked repeatedly, sure that she was seeing things and that the cabin was right there and she just couldn’t see it in the dark.

  She ran with her hands out in front of her, trying to protect herself from running into anything in the darkness. She heard footsteps behind her, and without looking, she knew she was in danger.

  She took off, running as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her chest, her bare feet flying over the rough ground as she pushed herself as fast as she could go. She could hear the person behind her now, his breathing heavy and labored, the anger in his steps clear.

  “You can’t get away from me,” the voice said in the darkness.

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but somehow, she knew exactly who he was. The creator of the clones, the man who had started everything with no plan that made any sense to a rational person. She was sure it was him and that he was behind her, with an army of clones there to capture her.

  Her lungs were on fire now, the icy air a shock with each breath. She whimpered, scared and completely alone in the dark.

  “Logan,” she cried out, as if summoning him would bring him out of the darkness to save her. “Logan!”

  Shaking and crying, she felt the man tear at her shirt, trying to grab her from
her feet as she fled through the woods, running blind in the pitch-black night. She pulled away, but the man grabbed her hair, yanking her off her feet and dragging her on the ground, back the way she’d come.

  Kicking and screaming, she scratched at the hands that held her hair, but the ghost figure just laughed and pulled her along like a sack. The ground beneath her grew soft, pulsing with a life of its own. Hands grew out of nowhere, pulling her down until the ground swallowed her whole, the man in the shadows still dragging her by the hair above ground, her entire body beneath the grass, floating along just below the surface.

  Her screams were muffled, and the dirt soaked her tears dry in an instant. She struggled and fought against the hands that held her down; all the while, a voice in the distance called her name, begging her to wake up.

  The ground shook, and all at once, she sat straight up, a scream caught in her throat, the soft mattress beneath her and the quilt wrapped around her body. Light flooded the room, and she blinked, trying to clear her vision as a shadow rushed toward her, calling her name. She screamed again, hands up and ready to fight when Logan’s voice cut through the fog.

  “Maci. I’m here. You’re dreaming. Maci. Maci, can you hear me?”

  He was at the bed, sitting beside her, his hands on her shoulders, when she finally cut through the dream and back into reality. She threw herself into his arms, bursting into tears as he gathered her into his lap and held her tight.

  “I was lost in the woods, and the village was gone, and he was coming after me.”

  “It’s alright,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “I’ve got you. It was just a dream. The whole thing was just a dream.”

  She was trembling, the stress of the adrenaline crash too much for her body to bear. Tears flowed freely down her face as she fought to breathe, and her heart pounded so hard in her chest that it physically hurt her.

  “Maci, it’s alright. I promise you, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He kissed her head, rubbing her back and shushing her so gently that she almost lost it again.