by Alisa Woods
As her claws dug into him, his breath hitched, and she was afraid for a split moment that she had hurt him. But his moans and thrusts just came harder and faster, finally pushing her to the edge. Her body pulsed, pleasure whiting out her vision, her sound, even her sense of smell, and there was nothing but him, filling her, joined with her, bringing her a pleasure she didn’t even know was possible. It possessed every sense in her body. He growled with his final thrust, and his body shook, as his climax seized hold of him. Aftershocks of pleasure kept rippling through her. He moved more slowly now, his thrusts gentling, his hold relaxing. Finally, after a long moment of stillness, he pulled out and eased her to the floor. But he still held her, tenderly pulling her from the wall and planting a hundred soft kisses on her face and neck.
As they came down together, he kissed her once more on the lips, then pulled slightly away. He had a slight frown and reached behind his shoulder to swipe at the marks her claws had no doubt left behind. He came away with blood on his hand, looked puzzled for a moment, then peered harder over his shoulder. Her claws had scored a dozen red lines on his back and upper arms. His eyes went wide, and he whipped his head back to her, a storm gathering on his face.
Oh no.
“You’re a shifter,” he said, his voice filled with betrayal.
“I didn’t think… are you okay?” She scrunched up her face and tried to peer at his back, but she knew it wasn’t the marks that bothered him. It was the lie.
He stepped back from her, standing naked, but with clenched fists and stiff shoulders. “What’s your pack?” he demanded.
“Pack? I don’t… I don’t have…” Her heart was wrenching in two. The air was still rich with their lovemaking, but it had chilled ten degrees with the angry stare he was giving her. He reached out, but his touch was no longer gentle. He held up her arms, searching them, grabbing hold of her shoulders to spin her, checking her back for something.
She twisted her head toward him. “What are you doing, Lucas?” The fear in her voice must have reached him, because he turned her back to face him, but more gently this time.
He continued to search her body with his eyes, his face still angry, but it had tempered a little. “You’re not marked. Why aren’t you marked?”
“I don’t know what that means!” Tears were closing in on her.
He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a breath. When he opened them, he pointed to the tattoo on his chest. “Your pack mark. Where is it?”
“I don’t have a pack,” she said. “Or a mark. You’re… you’re the only one who knows.”
Realization dawned on his face, and he took a step back. The anger settled further, but she could tell it still boiled under his skin. “You’ve been hiding it. All this time.”
“Yes.”
“From everyone. Your family?”
“I only have my mom,” she said, a defensive bit rising in her. “But yes. From everyone.”
“From me.”
“Until now.” She peered up into his eyes. Could he forgive her for that? He knew now. He was simply the only one she had ever felt safe telling. Couldn’t he see that?
But his expression was still cool. “You don’t have a mate or a pack,” he said again, as if triple confirming it wasn’t enough.
“I swear, Lucas.” She hesitated, then pressed on. “I want to be with you,” she said softly.
His dark brown eyes hardened to bitter coal. “You do not want to mate with me.” Then he turned away from her and stooped to pick up his pants from the floor. The anger was back, judging by the vicious way he pulled them on.
“But… I thought you…”
He glared at her again. “I thought you were human.”
It was a like a stab through her heart. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she said, fighting tears. Her wolf was crying, a mournful whine that echoed through her head. “I would have. Eventually. I just didn’t know…” She gestured at the pile of clothes at their feet. “Things just moved so fast.”
“Wolves do not just have sex, Mia. Wolves mate,” he said, the anger flaming back. “If you had a pack, you would have understood this. But since you don’t, let me be very clear about it: you do not want to mate with me.”
She crossed her arms over her bare breasts, suddenly feeling naked. But the anger in her voice rose to match his. “Maybe I do! You don’t get to decide everything for me!”
He turned away from her, and his back stiffened. “My mate is dead.”
She sucked in a breath. This was the thing—the pain that his family wanted to help him heal. The darkened office at SparkTech flashed before her eyes: T. Sparks. His mate. She had died, and he was struck down by it. Devastated. She could see it in his stance, and in the fierce protection he had for her. How much more would he have had for the woman he loved? Had mated with? She wasn’t even sure what that meant, but it sounded… like family.
She edged closer to his turned back. “I’m sorry, Lucas.” What could she say that would ease his pain? “I don’t want to… take her place. I just want to be with you.”
He sighed, long and deep. “You don’t understand, Mia.” He paused, then slowly turned to look back over his shoulder to her. “I killed her.”
I killed her.
Lucas’s words froze Mia’s body against the door where they just had sex, but her mind spun like a carnival tilt-a-whirl. He couldn’t possibly mean what he said… not literally. He had said, My mate is dead. She assumed that meant his wife.
Did she just have sex with a wife killer?
A chill raced up Mia’s body, from her bare toes on Lucas’s impeccably polished wooden floor to her naked arms, where she clutched the tattered remnants of her bra defensively to her chest. The chill swept up her face to the top of her head, and the realization that Lucas might actually be a killer lifted her sex-mussed hair straight off her scalp. She tugged at her slim black skirt, still hiked up around her waist—a pretense at modesty that seemed more urgent the more the chill seeped into her body and chased away the remnants of heat-filled pleasure he had given her. A pleasure she had never experienced with anyone before. And yet all those passionate kisses, all those expert touches with his hands and mouth, the urgent way in which he said he couldn’t resist her any longer and had taken her against the door… were those the acts of a killer?
She shook her head, not believing it. Not with the way he looked at her, cared for her… protected her. When all he had to do was walk away. Mia didn’t know what dark thing in his past had taken his wife from him, but she knew this much: Lucas Sparks was no killer.
“You don’t really mean that,” Mia said to him.
He had turned his back on her. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Mia.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, standing straighter. “You just blaming yourself for your wife’s death or something—”
He whirled on her, instantly looming over her and menacing her with a dark look. The fear-chill raced through her again as he forced her back against the door with his powerful presence. “Do not presume you know anything about me. You don’t belong to a pack. You hide your wolf from your family. You know nothing.”
Moments before, he had been pinning her to the door with his thrusts deep inside her. Now, he kept her there with the disdainful gaze he raked across her nearly-naked body. But even that look welled up heat across her skin. And holy hotness, the pleasure he’d wrung out of her in that short tryst against the door… in spite of the warring emotions in her head, her body still sang with the thrum of it. But now he wasn’t just angry that she lied about being a shifter—there was something else fueling the darkness in his eyes. Besides, he was right: she could shift, she just didn’t. At least not very often and usually at night when she was dreaming. Or when she was in the throes of passion, like she had been with Lucas.
“You’re right. I know nothing,” she said softly. Mia met his challenging look with one of her own. “Teach me.”
He was close en
ough to kiss her. Her inner wolf whimpered for him to press her into the door again. But he only let out an exasperated huff and turned away, shaking his head.
She couldn’t see why being a shifter would matter to him. He was a shifter, after all. The fact that her claws had come out and sliced into his back and shoulders hadn’t bothered him a bit. He was wolf—she could see those scratches were already healed. But there was something about her being a shifter that made him want her less… when it just made her want him more. Only a shifter could pleasure her like that and not wear scars as a result. But it was much more than that: her inner wolf yearned for him in a way she’d never felt before.
She belonged with him.
Only he didn’t seem to think so.
It had something to do with his dead mate—Mia’s mind flashed back to the darkened office at SparkTech with T. Sparks on the door. Whatever had happened, however his wife had been killed, it took part of him with it… and that darkness still sat inside him, like the shrine of his wife’s office, kept shrouded and silent. How could he work there every day, seeing that?
A new sympathy welled up inside her. Whatever had happened, Mia wanted to help him get past it. To understand that it wasn’t his fault, and that they could start something new.
If only he would let her.
He was attracted to her, she was sure of it. She just had to convince him to give in to that force pulling them together, to give them a chance. But to do that, she would need more than angry stares and turned backs from him. And she would need to understand more about shifters and packs and… him. There were dozens of questions buzzing her brain.
Lucas had picked up his shirt from the floor. He pulled it over his head.
She scooped up her sweater as well. “Those men who tried to kidnap me were the same ones from the alley. Why are they after me? Do they think I’m going to turn them in for being shifters?”
It wasn’t like being a shifter was a crime in and of itself, but shifter DNA had some kind of magic—the DNA itself would shift, changing to wolf or human, depending on what form the shifter took. When Mia was wolf, she was truly wolf—her DNA matched her wolfy cousins in the wild. When she was human, her DNA was unique to her, but just as human as any other person. Magic allowed them to shift, but science measured the result—which meant shifters in wolf form could commit crimes without leaving human DNA at the scene. And turning shifters in to the police so they could obtain samples of both sets of DNA for their databases was considered your citizenly duty.
“Those wolves are from the Red pack,” Lucas said, not looking at her as he fixed the buttons on his shirt. “And the last thing they’re worried about is you turning them in.”
She fussed with her sweater and skirt to smooth them down. “Then why are they after me?” She reached down to pick up the tatters of her underwear and bra, then realized… she popped back up and met his gaze. He had been watching her, once her back was turned. “Wait… you know them?”
The muscles in his jaw tightened momentarily. Then he said, “They’re from Red Wolf Development.”
Her mouth dropped open. “The internet development company?” No. Way. Red Wolf was a direct competitor for SparkTech.
His gaze dropped, then found her shredded undergarments. He winced and dragged his gaze back up to meet hers again. “The Red pack has been a bitter rival of my father’s pack ever since they started up here in Seattle.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Mia held up her hands. Her underwear dangled from one. Frustrated, she threw it back to the floor. The lump of material skidded across the polished wood to the thick stone tiling of Lucas’s kitchen. She’d hardly had a chance to check out his apartment before, what with the rapid entry, fervent sex against the door, her secret revealed, and Lucas’s sudden withdrawal and anger. And now he had been holding out on her.
Big time.
Steamy anger started to gather in her chest. She elbowed her way around him and stomped past the open doorway to his vast gourmet kitchen. Its multiple stainless steel ovens and sparkling black granite countertops looked hardly used. The lamps hanging over the bar to the living room glowed like small white ghosts, but the rest of the apartment was lit only by moonlight falling through the bank of windows along the far wall.
They hadn’t even taken time to turn on the main lights.
She strode into the expansive center room. It was as richly appointed as the kitchen. A black leather couch and chair sat in the middle of the room and faced a large black-glass-paneled wall with a huge built-in flat-screen TV. Speakers were embedded in the wall, and a glass table spanned the distance between the couch and the entertainment center. A pair of strange Z-shaped chairs stood off to one side, next to a wooden table with white orb lights hanging over it. There were no pictures, just a few modern-art-looking adornments. The entire room was sleek and luxurious and probably cost double her entire year’s tuition.
She paced along the back of the couch, running her hand on top of the glove-soft leather and trying to wrap her head around the situation. It suddenly seemed much worse than she thought.
Lucas stayed by the door, watching her.
She stopped and gripped the couch as she faced him. “Your pack is rivals with the Red pack.” Her voice was surprisingly steady for the trembles running laps up and down her body.
“My father’s pack is rivals with the Red pack,” he said coolly. “I don’t have a pack.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not in your father’s pack.”
“Not since I formed my own.” He met her stare. Cautious. Arms folded. Still holding back.
She pushed off the couch. “Dammit, Lucas, you have to tell me what’s really going on here! Why does the Red pack want me? What am I to them? Is this part of some rivalry between your packs? Am I… am I…” Her throat was getting thick. “Am I just some kind of prey for them?” She could see it now: in that alleyway, those Red pack wolves wanted to play some kind of sick game with her. Lucas stopped them… but then he’d hovered over her ever since. Making her quit The Deviation. Getting her a driver, so he could control her comings and goings. And today… today he wanted to move her out of her dorm!
“Is this all a game to you?” Her voice cracked then, and she braced herself against the couch, because there was a sudden weakness in her legs. What had she gotten herself into?
Lucas’s stance softened. He unfolded his arms and quickly crossed the room, like he was going to hold her up or something. She stopped him with an upraised hand.
He scowled at her hand like it offended him. “This isn’t a game, Mia. You’ve seen the Red wolves—they’re brutal. They let their dark wolves come out to play, both in business and pleasure. I’m only trying to protect you from them.”
“But they compete with you. With SparkTech. You have the same territory or something.” She couldn’t figure out the angle. Why her? Why was she in the middle of this?
He folded his arms again and leaned against the couch next to her. “They have a physical territory carved out in Seattle. And we respect that. But yes, they compete with us in business. You’ve seen the reports.”
Her eyes went wide. “They want LoopSource.” The mobile computing platform they were both diligently evaluating for SparkTech to acquire… until she stormed out, got attacked by Red wolves, then ended up in Lucas’s apartment.
“And they’ll do anything to get what they want.” He edged closer to her, arms still folded. He wasn’t touching her, but it was like he had cast a protective shadow over her. He was contained, but ready to spring out and hold her the moment she allowed it.
She shook her head, still not piecing it together. “But why me? I mean, I’m just a bartender. Or I was… wait! Did they know I was going to intern at SparkTech?”
Lucas’s eyebrows lifted, like he hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe.” Then they settled into a scowl again. “Or you could have just been a target of convenience. Either way, when I stepped in…” He struggled for words for a m
oment, then dropped his gaze. “Well, that’s when they figured out they could use you as leverage. Against me.”
“Because I was your intern.” She frowned. That still didn’t make sense.
“Because I saved you.” His jaw worked. “They think I care about you.”
She involuntarily glanced at the door, where they had just… what? Made love? Had sex? Gave in to their animalistic passions? That was probably closest. She dragged her gaze back to his deep, dark eyes. He seemed even closer, and the air between them was still perfumed by the lust of their bodies.
“Do you care about me?” she asked, almost a whisper.
“No.”
The air went out of her.
He unlocked his arms and reached like he was going to hold her, then stopped when she flinched away.
“It’s not that I don’t…” He looked pained. “It’s just… the Red pack thinks there’s something more than there is, Mia.”
Something more than there is. Namely, not much at all. It was just a casual screw of the intern for him. A burning sensation rose up in her cheeks, and then she realized… “Oh my god. We didn’t even use protection!”
He looked surprised at that, but the heat in her face was turning up to volcano-level. How could she have been so stupid? She had unprotected sex with her boss, who was just out for a quick lay, then on to the next thing.
“Oh my god,” she said under her breath, mostly to herself. She brushed past him, determined to grab her purse and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible, but his iron-strong hands grabbed hold of her shoulders, stopping her cold. “Let go of me!” It came out as a shriek, but she didn’t care. It was too much: all the danger and heated sex and crashing betrayal… it all came to a head of fury at once. She growled at him, her claws coming out as she thrashed against his hold, but he wouldn’t let her go.
