Werewolf in Denver

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Kate held herself together until she was inside the bedroom. Then she hurried on through and into the bathroom. After turning on the light, she closed the door, braced both hands against the tile counter, and gasped for air.

  She’d wanted Duncan to think she was in control of the situation, but in reality she felt like a rookie driver at her first Indy 500. She was not a virginal Were by any means, but she’d never encountered the likes of Duncan MacDowell.

  From that first kiss she’d known how much he wanted her, and yet despite the lure of the fantasy bed, he’d been willing to give up sex for his cause. Until that moment, she hadn’t been sure how tonight would end. But his sense of honor had seduced her far more effectively than broad shoulders and a dazzling smile. His reluctant sacrifice had tipped the scales.

  So now she’d said yes to him, and she was shaking like a leaf, both from nerves and lust. So far she’d held her own by playing mental games. But she couldn’t forget that his jet-lagged brain must be operating at half power. She’d been lucky to catch him at a disadvantage.

  She had the distinct feeling that once their clothes were off and they’d climbed into that bed draped with red velvet, her advantage would disappear. His sexual prowess wouldn’t be affected by jet lag. He’d fall back on his natural abilities that he’d honed while making love to dozens of females, both Were and human.

  He might assume that she was equally worldly because of all the sexual tips she’d offered in her book, but she’d gathered those tips by interviewing other female Weres. Only a few of the suggestions came from personal experience. Now was not the time to confess that.

  But like the rookie at the Indy 500, she was eager for the race to start. Now that she’d decided to go for it, she acknowledged that having this private time with Duncan in a cabin designed for passion was an opportunity that would never come again. If she’d passed it up, which she’d come close to doing, she might have regretted it for the rest of her life.

  As she opened the door and walked back into the bedroom, she heard him shoveling ash over the remaining embers in the fireplace. She wanted him to be thorough because the last thing they needed to do was cause more damage to the Stewarts’ love nest.

  Although she’d automatically flipped on the chandelier when she’d first rushed in, it created far more illumination than she was comfortable giving to this scene. How odd that the Stewarts had installed a dimmer switch in the kitchen and none in here.

  She turned off the chandelier, but there was no alternative, no little bedside reading lamps to give a subdued effect. Perhaps the Stewarts didn’t read in bed because they had more interesting things to do there.

  Eventually she settled on using the bathroom light and closed the door so only a sliver peeked through. Better. Next she stripped off her clothes, doing it quickly because she wanted to be in bed and under the covers when Duncan came in. Considering the boldness with which she’d suggested this rendezvous, she should greet him with the chandelier blazing while she lounged naked on the bed.

  She wished she possessed that kind of daring. It would make him do a double take, and she’d love to see him at a loss for words once again. That moment in the living room when she’d suggested they share the bed had been a real triumph.

  But she feared that she couldn’t pull off a stunt like greeting him wearing nothing but the rainbows given off by the crystal chandelier. And if she couldn’t do it without blushing and trembling, then she didn’t want to attempt it at all.

  Besides, even though they’d turned up the heat, the cabin was still on the cool side. Presenting herself naked in chandelier light would lose its effectiveness if she was also covered in goose bumps. Consequently, the moment her clothes were off, she dived under the covers, scattering pillows and gasping at the icy feel of the sheets against her warm skin.

  Then she rolled to her back, pulled the covers to her chin, and waited, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Her breathing seemed exceptionally loud, too. She tried taking shallower breaths, but that made her feel dizzy.

  Lights flicked out in the other room, and footsteps approached. She held her breath and then caught herself doing it when she grew light-headed again. Passing out wouldn’t be a good move right now.

  He appeared in the doorway, his impressive bulk in shadow. “Why are you lying here in the dark, lass?”

  Good question. By doing so, she’d revealed herself as a nervous Nellie, after all. “I, um, thought the chandelier was a little bright for sleeping.”

  “I suppose it is bright for sleeping.” He flipped the switch. “But when I’m making love, I like to see what I’m doing. Unless…” He crossed to the bed and gazed down at her. “Unless you’re a wee bit shy, perhaps? You’ve pulled the covers right up to your chin.”

  “I was cold.” But she wasn’t now. His hot gaze had an amazing effect and now she was sweltering under the weight of the blankets. She felt like throwing them off, but that would give the lie to her excuse, and besides, she wasn’t a ta-da kind of lover. She was more of the slowly reveal-herself kind.

  “Ah.” He nodded as if accepting her story. “Let’s see if I can do something about that.” And he began pulling off his clothes.

  His sweater came first, then the T-shirt under it. His chest, lightly furred with dark hair, expanded as he drew in a deep breath. The more he took off, the higher the temperature climbed under the covers.

  “It’s always a little nerve-racking the first time with someone new.” He unfastened his slacks and took those off, leaving him standing by the bed in knit boxers. The material was stretched over an impressive erection.

  Kate thought she’d go up in flames. She felt damp all over, but she was more than damp between her thighs. As she shifted restlessly, she felt the slippery wetness created by watching Duncan disrobe. Her pulse beat frantically as she waited for him to slide off those knit boxers.

  He paused, his thumbs in the waistband. “I just remembered something out of your book. You suggest taking each other’s clothes off and doing it slowly, so you each get used to being naked with someone new.”

  “It’s only—” She stopped to clear her throat. “Only a suggestion.”

  “I know, but it seemed like a good one, and without thinking, I’ve gone and stripped off everything except my boxers. Maybe I should wait on those.”

  “That’s okay.” She still sounded like a frog. And she wanted those boxers off ASAP.

  “Did you leave on anything for me to take off?”

  “No. And you can take off—”

  “But see, you removed your clothes and then covered yourself up again. You might have been cold, but you also might have been hoping to take nakedness in stages, like in your book.”

  She could see that he was hung up on her damned book, so finally she found the courage to do what she should have done when he’d turned on the light. She threw back the covers.

  His eyes widened. “Oh, lass.” His tone was reverent. “My bonnie lass.”

  “Please take off your boxers,” she murmured.

  “With pleasure.” He shoved them down and kicked them away.

  The blood roared in her ears and she forgot to breathe. Of course he was large. She’d expected that. But she’d never seen such elegant proportions. Released from bondage, his penis thrust forward, anchored in swirls of dark hair. As if carved from marble laced with faint blue veins, it radiated power. Beneath it, in perfect symmetry, hung his testicles. They tightened under her heated gaze.

  “I like what I see in your eyes, milady.”

  She looked up. “And what do you see there?”

  “Lust. Anticipation.” He settled a knee on the bed. “Much as I’m feeling, I’ll wager, when I look at you.” His glance swept her from head to toe and his lips curved. “I don’t think you’re shy anymore.”

  “No.” She reached for him. “Come closer. Let me touch you.”

  “’Tis all I’ve been wishing for, to touch and be touched.” He moved onto the bed and
stretched out, his body close enough to feel his heat, but not yet entwined with hers. “Well, and perhaps a bit more. But let’s begin with that. Let’s explore.”

  She smiled. “You read that in my book.”

  “I did.” Resting his head on a pillow, he cupped her face in one large hand. “And I confess that when I read that, I imagined exploring your body, Kate.”

  “That’s quite a confession.” Desire sizzled through her as he trailed his fingers along the curve of her throat and caressed her bare shoulder. She followed his lead, brushing her fingertips over the bristles on his jaw.

  When he smiled, his teeth were very white against the darkness of his beard. “Are you disarmed by my honesty?”

  “Yes, but I’m also disarmed by other things about you.”

  “Do tell.”

  “I don’t know if that’s wise. We both know you have a large ego.” She moved her hand slowly down his corded neck and over to his muscled shoulder.

  “You’ve deflated it quite a bit in the past few hours.” He laughed softly as he stroked downward and cradled her breast. “While inflating another part of me beyond endurance.”

  “You were planning to endure. You…” She lost her train of thought as he slowly massaged her breast. “Mm.”

  “Lovely sound, that.” He teased her nipple with the pad of his thumb. “I’ve wanted to touch you ever since you took off your red coat and I saw your breasts outlined under that black angora.”

  She gripped his shoulder and closed her eyes as his caress made her quiver. “I thought it started with the book,” she murmured.

  He slid his hand down her rib cage and brushed his knuckles lightly over her tummy. “I think it started with your first post on my blog.”

  She opened her eyes and gazed into his. “Really? When I called you a pigheaded radical with your head up your ass?”

  He smiled at her. “Aye.”

  “You read that and wanted to get me naked?”

  “Aye. You’re passionate in your beliefs.” His caress moved lower, teasing her moist curls with the very tips of his fingers. “That’s very sexy. I thought you’d be passionate in other ways, too.”

  Anticipation made her breathe faster. She knew his destination and she yearned for his touch there. Desperately she tried to keep track of what he was saying. It could be important, but oh…if he would only…

  She squeezed her eyes shut again. “So you came to Denver knowing that you intended to—”

  “Nay. Don’t think that.” Those clever fingers danced along her inner thigh, tracing patterns in the moisture there. “I didn’t admit any of it to myself. I only thought I was learning all I could about the enemy. It’s only now that I understand why I was so fascinated by you.”

  That helped. She gazed at him, needing to reassure herself that this wasn’t the endgame of some elaborate scheme to seduce the leader of the Howlers.

  “I’m not that kind of Were, Kate. I hope you believe me.” His touch became less random. The pad of his middle finger sought out her most sensitive spot.

  When he made contact, she gasped. “You’re…very persuasive.”

  “Passion drew me to you.” He began a slow, deliberate massage of that trigger point. “And I think…it drew you to me.”

  She moaned softly. “Duncan…”

  “We have that in common, lass.” His touch remained slow but relentless as he built her response with a single-mindedness that unraveled all her defenses.

  “Yes.” She trembled as her body prepared for the climax he was creating with only the pad of one finger and the music of his brogue.

  “Whatever happens, the passion will still be there. There are no factions here. Just us.”

  “Yes.” Her breath caught as the first wave hit. “Yes.” The explosion came, wracking her body as if he’d covered every inch of it with his kisses.

  And then he did cover her with kisses. Moving over her, he touched down with his mouth and tongue on her breasts, her arms, and her thighs as she shook with pleasure. Last of all, he held her hips still, parted her thighs, and buried that elegant cock deep within her.

  As he thrust with the same deliberate surety he’d used when touching her with only one finger, a second wave gathered. She rose to meet him stroke for stroke and reached for the glory he seemed so willing to bestow on her.

  His breathing roughened. “Look up,” he said, panting.

  She’d forgotten the mirror. Gazing above their heads, she watched in fascination as the muscles of his back, buttocks, and thighs propelled him forward again and again. They were both covered in rainbows, but he more than her. Seeing him ravish her so thoroughly while she felt each powerful thrust brought her quickly to the brink of total surrender.

  Arching up against him, she cried out his name as her world shattered into a million pieces of rainbow-colored crystal. Through eyes glazed with pleasure, she watched him rock forward once more before he groaned and his big body shuddered in the grip of his own orgasm. His spasms rippled within her as he filled her with liquid warmth.

  Gasping for breath, she continued to gaze upward. She made herself concentrate on the image of their bodies locked together while colored light caressed their skin. So beautiful. This moment would never come again, and when she relived it in the years ahead, she wanted to remember every detail.

  Duncan remembered little after experiencing a climax so outstanding that it nearly left him unconscious with the pleasure of it. When he woke up, he stretched as happily as any Were would who’d had great sex the night before. Then he sat up with a start.

  He was alone in the bed. Light spilling in the doorway from the other room, the smell of coffee brewing, and a slit of gray light showing under the bedroom window blinds told him morning had arrived, but he had no sense of what time it was. There was no clock in the room, which was logical because the Stewarts wouldn’t want to worry about the time as they frolicked in their red-draped bed.

  Guilt hit him as he realized that Kate must have gotten up to turn out the light sometime after he’d fallen asleep. He sure as hell hadn’t done it. He only hoped she hadn’t had to shove his nearly lifeless body off her in order to climb out of bed.

  Although he thought the lovemaking had gone well, he wasn’t proud of his follow-up performance. A good lover, especially when in human form, needed to stay awake after the event. He should cuddle, murmur sweet nothings, and then get up to turn out the bloody light if necessary.

  He should not become comatose, and he certainly shouldn’t become comatose while still lying on top of the poor female whose lungs were being crushed by his weight. Duncan was very afraid he might have done exactly that. In addition, he’d probably snored like a chain saw.

  With a groan of remorse, he swung his feet to the floor, where he expected to find his clothes lying scattered about. They weren’t there. Apparently she’d tidied up after him, too. He had some apologies to make.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Kate appeared in the doorway wearing a white bathrobe that was way too big for her. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a fetching way, and with the light behind her, she looked very much like an angel with a halo. She held a mug in both hands, and from the scent of it, she was bringing coffee.

  A rush of warmth in the area of his heart told him she’d begun carving out a place there. He was ridiculously glad to see her. Images came back to him, of Kate with the covers pulled up to her chin and a nervous light in her eyes. He smiled as he remembered how her expression had changed as he took off his clothes.

  And then…then she’d flung back the blankets to reveal a blond goddess even more stunning than he’d expected, and he’d expected quite a bit. But he’d rewarded her by going right to sleep after the sex. “Good morning, Kate. Listen, I’m sorry about—”

  “I can’t imagine what you have to be sorry about. Are you a coffee drinker or a tea drinker?”

  “Either, but coffee’s my preference.”

  “How do you like it?”
>
  “Delivered by a bonnie lass in a gigantic white bathrobe.”

  Although her face was in shadow, there was a smile in her voice. “Then this is your lucky day. But I meant, do you like it black or with sugar? If you want cream, there’s only the powdered stuff, and personally I don’t think that’s worth the bother.”

  “Black will do nicely.”

  “Then here you go.” She walked over and handed him the warm mug.

  “Perfect. Thanks.” He took a sip. “Ah, that helps. By the way, do you happen to know where my clothes are?”

  “Everything except your slacks is in the dryer. I found a little stackable unit behind some folding doors in the bathroom. I’ve already run everything through the washer.”

  “I slept through all that?”

  “You were very tired. Oh, and don’t worry. I checked the label on your sweater before I threw it in, but those slacks need to be dry-cleaned.”

  “And so my slacks are where?” They might be slightly uncomfortable without his boxers, but he wanted to put something on. He’d never been a fan of walking around the house naked.

  “Hanging up, but you don’t want those yet. They’ll be scratchy without the boxers. There’s another bathrobe in the closet. Let me get it.” Crossing the room, she opened a closet door and pulled out a robe identical to hers.

  “They must belong to the Stewarts.”

  “I’m sure they do, but no worries. We can wash these after our clothes are dry. I’m planning to do the sheets, too.” She handed him the robe. “Go ahead and put this on. I’ve found instant oatmeal we can eat for breakfast.” She started out of the room.

  “Kate, hold on a minute.”

  She turned back to him. “Yes?”

  “I behaved like a clod last night. You were wonderful, and instead of staying awake to tell you so, I conked out. Did I…did I fall asleep while I was still…”

  “Over, around, and inside me? Yes, you did.”

  He winced. “Did I snore?”

  “Horrendously.”

  “Damn, that’s unforgivable.”