by J. D. Tyler
“And what mood is it you’re trying to create now?”
She was teasing, and he liked that. Her fine black brows were arched over big brown doe eyes, her plump mouth curved upward. Just when he wondered how to read her, thinking she was so reserved, her passionate, fun side peeked out from behind the cool veneer.
“I want us to enjoy each other’s company,” he said, returning her gaze, making it clear that he was interested if she was game.
The spark in those whiskey depths, the flare of heat, made him want to shout. No celebrating, though. Not yet. He didn’t want to give her the impression that this was some attempt at a casual hookup where they’d go their separate ways in the morning. No, his days of cruising Las Vegas with his single Pack brothers, letting his dick lead him to a cheap lay, were over. He couldn’t say he was real sorry.
“Somehow I think we’re going to get along with each other just fine.”
Yes! His cock stiffened in his jeans, and he was glad his T-shirt was loose enough to cover the problem. He wanted to do this right, for everything to be perfect. From his black wine rack in the wet bar area, he selected a bottle of his best red and removed two glasses from the glass shelf.
“Do you bring your lady guests here often?”
He liked that she was blatantly fishing. That her teasing held an edge, as though his answer was very important. “I’ve never brought a woman here before.”
She appeared pleased by that. Maybe she didn’t know relief was written all over her face. “Because of the secrets about what you are and what you do?”
“That’s part of it, but not all,” he acknowledged. “Even if we could bring our hookups into the compound—which would never happen—I wouldn’t feel right about bringing someone into my personal space who wasn’t special.”
Her lips parted and her eyes widened slightly. Had he said too much? He didn’t think so, not if he wanted her prepared to hear the whole truth. He didn’t elaborate further, nor did she seem to want to press. They both needed time to absorb being together, enjoying each other’s company.
Taking the plate of chicken outside, he got the grill started while she sipped her wine and watched. While the grill heated, they made small talk.
“This is a nice setup. Each of your quarters is like a condo with its own private patio and a small yard.”
“It’s nice, but not too fancy, and I like that. It’s home.”
“I like it, but it’s hard to imagine living among all of these people. You’ve almost got your own town right inside these walls.”
Anxiety made his wolf restless. Would she reject living with him? What if she wanted to return to Missouri when she was finished with her studies? What the hell would he do then?”
He would move with her if she was determined to go. That was a given. But what if she didn’t want him? God, he was borrowing trouble before it even began.
“It took some getting used to, but once I did, I fell in love with it here. Not just the compound, but the Shoshone. You won’t find a more beautiful national forest anywhere in the United States, and my wolf loves to run for miles and miles without stopping.”
“You’re going to show me your wolf,” she said. It wasn’t a question. He could tell she still needed visual confirmation of his claims. Like Rowan had when she met Aric, Daria required tangible proof. But she was tougher than Rowan had been, even after meeting Blue.
“I’ll show you after we eat, if that works for you.” He wanted to at least savor a nice dinner before she rejected him and ran home to her father.
“All right.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I can’t wait to see.”
She was trying, he’d give her that. “My wolf is anxious to meet his—to meet you.”
Taking a sip, she studied him over the rim of her wineglass, and he sweated that she’d caught his near-slipup. If she had, and he thought she must’ve, she didn’t say anything.
He laid the meat on the grill and tended it as they talked and refilled their glasses. He learned that she held degrees in fish, wildlife, and conservation biology from Colorado State.
“I’m part wolf and I’m not sure I even know what that means,” he joked.
She laughed. “That’s irony, I suppose. What it means is I studied topics like ecology, forestry, fish and freshwater ecosystems, mammalogy. You know, easy stuff like that.”
“Sure.” He snorted.
“Then for my master’s, we delved into more specific areas such as conservation biology and genetics, ecotoxicology, wildlife population management, and so on.”
“I’m impressed,” he said. “I like a smart woman.”
Her bronzed cheeks flushed. “Thanks. But I’m just a regular person carrying on my father’s work.”
“What work is that, specifically?”
“He was a part of the government’s conservation effort in the eighties to save the wolf population in the Shoshone from extinction. The program was a success, and now I’m a member of a small group that keeps track of the wolves’ progress. We make sure they’re still thriving all over the forest.”
“You have a cool job. I’ll bet you’re good at it,” he praised.
“I love animals,” she said simply. “It’s easy to be good at a job you love and believe in.”
“True. I have one of those myself.”
“I just protect wolves.” She waved at hand at him. “You protect the rest of the world.”
He started to protest, but she was right. “That doesn’t make your contribution any less. What you do is so important,” he said earnestly. “If the ecosystems fail, there will be nothing left for guys like me to protect. People like you have to prevent that from happening.”
He’d struck exactly the right chord with her. But he wasn’t simply trying to get into her good graces. He meant every word. He valued her work, and wanted her to know that. She did, and her elation trickled to him through their bond like liquid sunlight.
“Thank you for that,” she said softly. “I can’t tell you how many people, even friends, don’t think that what my father and I do constitutes a real job.”
“Well, they’re assholes,” he growled. “They’re part of what’s wrong with the planet.”
Her expression became one of playful amusement. “So fierce. I think I like it when you get all rumbly like that.”
That surprised a laugh out of him, and he had to remind his poor cock yet again to behave. “Then I’ll make sure to do it often.”
They chatted until the chicken was ready; then he decided to set the table outside. The weather was great, so they might as well take advantage of it. He brought out plates, utensils, tortillas, shredded cheese, and all the rest of the goodies they needed for their meal. Placing foil on the grill, he laid down some tortillas, loaded them with chicken strips, onion, and cheese, then browned them on each side. In moments, they were ready to eat.
“Mmm, this is fantastic! You could make me fat, feeding me like this.”
“You’ve got a long way to go before that would ever happen. You’re perfect.”
“No, I’m not, but thank you. I love what I see, too.” She took another bite and swallowed. “I have a thing for blonds.”
“A thing?” His brows shot up.
“Yes, I know. How cliché, right? But I adore blond men.”
If he had any say, her days of adoring any man but him, blond or purple, were over. “I like silky black hair myself. Just like yours,” he murmured. “I’m partial to brown eyes and bronzed skin. A whole lot like yours.”
After that, they pretty much rode a rising tide of arousal that simmered in the air between them. They cleared the plates, brought everything inside. They stacked the empty plates in the sink, and he told her he’d do them later.
“Right now, there’s something I’m much more interested in doing,” he said, turning her to face him.
“Is that so?”
“I want more of those kisses, because I’m a greedy man. Am I wrong in assuming y
ou feel the same way?”
“You’re not wrong at all.” Her eyes searched his. “Kiss me before I go crazy thinking about tasting you again.”
“Just kisses?” he asked, wanting to be sure.
“And more, if you want.” She sucked in a breath. “I need you.”
“You have me.”
His mouth covered hers and gave her what she’d asked for. Delved his tongue into her heat, tasting spicy wine. All woman. She pulled back first.
“Oh, Ryon. Make love to me,” she whispered. “Now.”
He blinked, unable to believe his ears. What he’d done to deserve such a priceless gift, he didn’t know, no more than he knew how to go about telling her the rest of the truth. Putting that out of his mind, he concentrated on his woman. Could he please her? Whether his experience was a blessing or a curse, he wasn’t sure.
They only got as far as the living room before he stopped. Undressed her slowly, revealing each beautiful layer of Daria. In wonder, he eased her to the floor and then skimmed his palms down the graceful curve of her neck, to her slim shoulders, careful to avoid bumping her casted arm. The limb was probably okay, but he couldn’t be too careful. He brushed his fingers across the swell of her breasts, her puckered little nipples. Marveled at the sensation, the pleasure of touching her at last.
Fascinated, he rolled the taut peaks between his fingers, pinching them lightly. Bracing her weight on her elbows, she leaned back, spreading those long, toned legs. Offering herself to him.
Her pink slit glistened, begging for his attention, and he groaned. Drinking in her natural beauty, his heart pounded at the base of his throat. She was all tanned skin, curvy breasts, and lean hips, a dark nest of curls at the vee of welcoming thighs.
He stood next to her, unzipping his jeans, pushing them past his hips. His erection sprang free, hot and hard. Throbbing to the point of real pain. Already, a drop of cum beaded at the head of his penis. He and his wolf strained, eager for fangs and cock to be buried deep, to shoot inside her heat.
But he couldn’t claim her properly. Not until she knew she was his mate.
Smiling, she sat up on her knees and tugged his jeans to his ankles, pulling them as he stepped free. She laid them aside and wrapped her fingers around his erection, stroked and swirled the pearly drop around the head of his penis. He gasped at the wonderful, wicked bolt of desire sweeping him.
“Daria, I’m not going to last,” he croaked. “I can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t hold back.”
Her tongue laved the tip, licking away the sticky wetness as she continued to pump his shaft. He shuddered, balls tightening, the heat rising in his loins, on the verge of losing control too soon. Her other hand found his sac, kneaded gently, and his breathing hitched.
Unable to help himself, he let his gaze drift down to watch. The sight nearly undid him. Beautiful Daria, kneeling between his spread legs. Working his cock with her silky touch, her warm, wet little mouth. Taking obvious enjoyment in reducing him to a mindless puddle. Demanding all of him.
Oh, yeah. She can have me. Whenever, however she wants.
She took his length deep, sheathing his cock to the very base. He buried his hands in her hair, closing his eyes in ecstasy. Hers now. All hers.
“Daria! Oh, God.”
He pumped his hips slowly, in tandem to the pull of her sweet mouth. She sucked eagerly, teeth scraping, tongue sweeping the ridge of his penis. So damned good. He wanted more. Harder, deeper. How could she take all of him? He didn’t want to hurt her.
Then he wasn’t capable of thinking anymore. She grabbed his hips, urging his thrusts. There was nothing but the rising throb of heat threatening to burst him into a million pieces. Blow him apart.
“Yes, baby, yes!”
He gave himself over. To Daria. Gave her what they both wanted. Fucked her mouth, hard and fast. Just like that, fuck yeah, so good . . .
With a hoarse cry, he stiffened. Shot down her throat, pumping on and on. Riding the waves crashing through him until he stood trembling on legs that barely held him upright.
When the last of the aftershocks had faded, she released him and wiped her mouth with the edge of her discarded shirt. His rubbery knees folded and he sank down in front of her. She looked at him with a saucy grin, and his heart turned over. For a second, he’d been afraid of how she’d react to their lovemaking.
Unbidden, a surge of raw emotion took him by surprise. For the first time in as long as he could remember, happiness swelled in his chest. And a fierce protectiveness. His mate. Mine. He didn’t want to try to examine the powerful feelings any further right now. But looking at the ominous cast on her arm, he knew he’d send the white bitch wolf responsible straight to hell.
“Mmm.” She slanted him a sexy look. “I loved doing you. I think you’ve corrupted me.”
“I hope so.” He enjoyed her laugh. “It occurs to me that you didn’t get any attention.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“This.”
Taking her chin, he kissed her. Reveled in the dark flavor of himself on her lips. Him, and no one else. Ever again. The knowledge aroused him all over again, his half-softened cock waking anew. Thank God for shifter stamina.
He laid Daria back gently, following her down. Cradling her, he pressed butterfly kisses to her lips, nose, chin, forehead. She rested a hand on top of his head, running his hair through her fingers, and he loved the sensation.
Dipping lower, he turned his attention to her breasts. Capturing one tight pebble in his teeth, he groaned, sucking it. Feasting like the starving man he was. She arched into him, gripping his head, gasping encouragement. He swirled one peak, then the other, as one hand skimmed down her flat belly.
His fingers found the springy nest of curls, and lower still, to her wet sex. Her thighs parted for him, hips urging his touch. He stroked the hot, sensitive nub, the pouting lips, slick and ready for him. Suckled her breasts, teased her clit until she writhed, unable to take any more.
“Ryon, please,” she moaned, yanking his hair. “I need you inside me.”
He lifted his head, regret spearing his gut. “Shifters don’t need protection for STDs, but we do unless you want to risk a small complication.” He didn’t add that a wolf shifter could not impregnate anyone but his mate—and that she was at risk.
“I’m on the pill, and I’m healthy,” she insisted, eyes searching his.
Her words sent a thrill through him. “Daria, sweetheart, are you sure?”
“Yes! Please, just make love to me.”
He needed no further encouragement. Positioning his body over hers, he guided the tip of his penis to her moist opening. Worked it in slow, making certain he wouldn’t hurt her.
And in one long, delicious stroke, pushed deep. Her tight sheath gripped his cock with silken heat. She clutched his shoulders as he began to pump. In as far as possible, his balls rubbing against her bottom. Relishing the feeling of being buried inside her. Then out, inch by wicked inch. Skin deep, inside her again. Wanting to crawl in and never come out. Fusing their souls.
Never, ever anything like this. The power of their connection, that physical bond, shook him. Humbled him. She was a gift, a treasure. Mindful of her arm, he held her close, making sweet love to her right there on his living room floor.
Her nails dug into his back. “Oh, yes, yes. Faster!”
The feral wolf in him came undone, howled in triumph. Mine. He barely resisted sinking his fangs into her shoulder. Clutching her tight, thrusting hard, their bodies slapping together. Hot, blazing, burning him up. Higher and higher. Going to freaking explode.
“Come with me,” he demanded.
Hips bucking, she cried out. Her release shattered him. Seated deep, he let her carry him over the edge, into oblivion. Her orgasm milked his cock as he spurted into her, harder than before. More than he’d thought possible.
Raising his head, he looked into her face and swept a damp tendril of hair from he
r eyes. She gazed at him, smiling dreamily, a woman well satisfied. A new emotion clogged his throat.
One he wasn’t brave enough to name. Yet.
Seven
It was deliciously decadent, lazing on the floor with Ryon after making love. In the middle of the afternoon.
Her buttoned-up ex-fiancé had never committed a spontaneous act in his life. Much less anything that involved getting naked and messy.
As soon as the uncharitable thought crossed her mind, she felt bad. It really wasn’t fair comparing two men who were so different. Ryon was an open book, his smile honest, his handsome face reflecting his love of life. Of laughter, his friends, the poor creatures like Chup who were displaced in a strange world. The exact opposite of her ex, who’d never had time for much of anything but his own career.
Head resting on Ryon’s chest, she trailed her fingers through the crisp, dusky hair that was a darker shade than what was on his head. She teased each nipple, enjoying the way the brown disks puckered into tight points, then skimmed her palm lower, stopping at the intricate tattoo on his left hip. The artwork was a wolf’s head, ears laid flat against his head, muzzle snarling fiercely in the direction of its owner’s belly button. The ink appeared black at first, but upon closer inspection she saw it was actually a dark blue. Very, very fetching.
“I love the tat,” she said, running a finger over it in appreciation. His abdomen quivered at her attentions and she smiled against his chest.
“Thanks. It was a moment of insanity, I suppose.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Hurt like a bitch. I’ll never get another one—that’s for sure.”
“You can fight vampires, nearly get gutted, then go back to battle again without batting an eyelash, but you won’t get another tattoo?”
He made a noise of agreement. “Damned straight. Nothing like having to hold still for the torture when I’d much rather go down swinging.”
“Well, it’s nice. I’m glad you got this one.” Sitting up, she sat and traced it. “I noticed some of the other guys have them, though they’re each a bit different. Was it some sort of team thing?”
