Another heavy pause pinched the air.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Her voice cracked slightly.
Mad? He was furious! He was beside himself! He was…he was melting fast, going all soft and mushy inside while his groin was still rock hard. Desperate to touch her, taste her—and that was just the beginning of his list. He sniffed the air and found it thick with her lust. His was there, too, weaving itself around hers. Jesus, the temptation.
Lana leaned toward him, her eyes closed, chin tilted up. Her expression went from inquisitive to warm as she cracked into a satisfied smile at his scent. Her eyes opened and landed right on his. Eyes that were more wolf than human. Gotcha, they said. On the heels of that came an open invitation. I want you, wolf.
He whipped his eyes to the road, jerking the truck back from a swerve that kicked up a shower of giggling gravel.
“Gotta love the night air,” Lana said, refolding the unbuttoned shirt over her torso and tossing her long hair. She had no idea how much he wanted to tangle his fingers in there and pull her to him. She had no idea how bad it would be if he allowed that to happen. The air crackled with the energy of a whip, poised to snap.
As the truck reached the crest of a hill, his traitorous foot eased off the gas pedal. In the rear view mirror, the red tail lights of the rancher’s vehicles were mere fireflies in the landscape. Cody’s vehicle was still back there, headlights pointing into the brush.
He killed the engine but left his hand on the wheel, closing his eyes. Lana was waiting for him, toying with his heart. It was torture, sheer torture. Didn’t she realize why they couldn’t be together?
No, he realized. She didn’t.
“Lana,” he started, mustering all his self-discipline. Her name nearly stuck on his teeth. His tongue wanted to keep it there and roll it around. “Lana, your father is Nate Dixon.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So?”
He waited, hoping the night would do the telling for him. “No one ever told you?”
“Told me what?”
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Your parents used to live here in Arizona. You know why they left?”
She crossed her arms over the flannel. “They wanted a new start out East, so they went back to my dad’s home pack.”
So that’s what they’d told her. A grain of truth buried at the heart of the lie. Nate Dixon did hail from back East. He’d come to Arizona to try something new and worked his way up the hierarchy of a struggling new pack, alongside Ty’s father. The two had been best friends until they fell for the same woman.
“What about your mother?” he asked.
“What about my mother?” Lana’s hands balled into fists.
“They didn’t mention who she was with before she met your father?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
She wasn’t getting it. His fingers drummed the dashboard as he wondered how to say it. Finally, he drew in a deep breath and began. “Your mother was with my father. But she left him when she got pregnant—by Nate Dixon.”
Chapter Seven
“My mother? Your father? Never.” She spat the words out, clenching a fist in her lap.
Ty knew better than to answer that one. At least Lana seemed angrier with the situation than at him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to somehow make it all right. But he was powerless.
It was torture, being this close to her, just as it was torture to think about the blood that ran through his veins. He admired his father as an alpha, but the man was a heartless bastard. He’d knocked up Ty’s mother, then gone off and seduced Lana’s mother. Not that he’d loved either woman. That was the crazy part. The blood feud was based entirely on the old man’s hurt pride.
When Lana’s mother left—in a hurry, no doubt—with Dixon, Ty’s father took his mother back just long enough to knock her up a second time. The tortured woman had stuck around one more year before running away, abandoning Ty and his sister. Ty closed his eyes at his vague memories of a dark-haired woman with sad eyes. He could still taste the salt of her tears, hear her sobs as she hugged him goodbye. But he couldn’t blame her for leaving. Not after the way his dad treated her.
Another woman had promptly filled her place in his father’s bed, if not in Ty’s heart. Cody’s mother. Then she, too, left, her haunted eyes filled with shattered dreams. It was a cycle that had repeated itself, again and again. A cycle that Ty, the oldest child, observed as a mute witness.
He gripped the wheel so hard, the leather started to tear under his nails. His father’s blood ran in his veins and though it gave him strength, it also doomed him to a lonely existence. But it was better to be alone than to be proven a bastard like his father. If only the pack females could accept that instead of trying to twist the occasional night of fun into something more, trying to land what they saw as a prize. He snorted. Some prize he’d be.
At least, that’s what he thought before the phantom came along to tease him. For a time, he’d let himself believe there was someone out there strong enough to be his mate. It was the same now that Lana was here. That vision of a better life was back, tapping inside his skull, begging for him to open the door. He’d been so sure the phantom was his intended mate that he vowed never to lose his heart again. Yet here he was, doing it all over for another woman. If that didn’t prove he was a faithless bastard like his father, what did?
His eyes did their best to focus on a saltbush just outside the truck. It would be awfully satisfying to watch it burst into flames. From the hot feel of his eyes, that might not be far off.
Lana was shaking her head, maybe reconsidering that held-back punch. He wished she’d just sock him. It would make him feel better. Her, too. Why did they both have to be masters of self-restraint?
Then something in her countenance changed. She looked softer, her eyes focusing just left of his face. On his ear. He jerked his hand back to the steering wheel. So he’d been scratching again. Okay, more like clawing. No big deal.
The storm in her eyes dissipated, replaced by puffy cumulus clouds. She looked…sympathetic. At least one chamber of his heart misfired before limping on with the rest.
“Our parents don’t have anything to do with us, Ty.”
“They have everything to do with us. My father put a death threat out on yours.”
“So?”
So? “That extends to all Dixons. Including you. You shouldn’t…you can’t be here.”
Lana threw her hands up in the air. “Then why would I be allowed to come out here?”
“I’m guessing Jean didn’t exactly mention who’d be coming to visit. And your grandmother, too. She must have known.”
“Why wouldn’t Nan be banished, too?”
He shrugged. “She’s a generation older. Not her fault what her daughter did. I mean, that’s the way he’d see it. I just can’t believe she’d risk bringing you out here. Why would she do that?”
Lana let out a stuttering breath. “Good old Nan. Always had her own way of doing things.”
He refrained from adding something about the apple not falling far from the tree. “Lana, we can’t pretend there is no feud.”
She spun around to face him. “We can’t pretend there is no this,” she insisted, fanning the energized air between them.
He shut his eyes and pressed his foot even harder against the brake pedal, as if that might stop her scent from getting the better of him. He wanted her. She wanted him. They’d both been smoldering for days. But this was one fire that could never be permitted to blaze.
In a last act of resistance, he shoved the truck door open so hard it bounced back against its hinges. He pushed it again and heaved himself out into the night, sucking in the cool air. The slam of the door behind him flattened the hushed landscape, and even the wind hurried away. He took three brisk steps, realized there was no escape, and stopped, hanging his head.
How many times had he cursed being his father’s son
? Always having to be the best, not permitted to be like the others. But none of the expectations, none of the foregone conclusions as to who he was and what he would someday be—none of that was as bad as this. The gavel had already been slammed on their case. Whatever there was between him and Lana, it simply wasn’t allowed to exist.
The sole of his left foot found a small rock and rolled it over and back, kneading it into the ground as he contemplated his fate. Maybe if he worked it long enough, he could grind the thing into dust.
Why Lana? Why now? He didn’t understand it. All he knew was that she was incredible. Tough and spunky, ballsy and beautiful. What wasn’t there to love?
The rolling stone stuttered as he slammed the brakes on his thoughts. Who’d said anything about love? Just because he wanted to take a dip inside her didn’t mean he wanted her permanently. He was alpha! He had a job to do. He couldn’t let anything impinge on his duty to the pack.
There. Just another reason he couldn’t have Lana.
Damn but his ear was itchy tonight. He wanted to scratch the whole of it away with the thickest, thorniest branch he could find. He could start with his ear, then go on to the rest of his body, because the itch was all-consuming.
A creak sounded behind him, followed by a gentle thump as the passenger door opened and closed. Pebbles crunched, signaling Lana’s movement around the truck. His canines surged against his gums. He’d have to fight himself on this one. The feud was almost a moot point. If he took her, she’d wilt away, like all his father’s women had done.
She can handle it, his wolf insisted. She’s the one.
He shook his head. We’d empty her. Maybe even kill her.
She looked us straight in the eye. She can do it!
Even if she could, we’ll only let her down.
Never! his wolf screamed.
“Ty.” Lana’s voice slipped through the crisp night air, low and viscous. He wished he could let that honey soothe his throat and free everything shackled inside.
He knew he shouldn’t let her close, but for the first time in his life, he was frozen by a whole host of fears that confronted him at the same time. The fear of failure—what if he couldn’t control himself? Fear of consequences—for her. As for himself, he was already damned.
He closed his eyes. She was only an inch in front of him now. All he needed to do was reach out an arm and tug her flush against his body, and this desperate itch would be soothed.
“Need a little fresh air?” Lana teased. The gleam in her eye made it perfectly clear: her wolf had taken over.
He suppressed a growl. “Need a little of you.” The words popped out through clenched teeth. He winced, knowing she wasn’t the only one having trouble controlling the wolf within. His hands clutched at his pockets, afraid where they might go if allowed to roam free.
Her fingers brushed the line of his jaw before coming to rest on his chest, and his body hummed like a musical instrument plucked, then left to vibrate.
“Need a lot of you.” Lana stretched onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. They were soft, wet, perfectly sculpted to his. And they were driving him wild—both man and wolf.
On the outside, he barely flinched. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this happen! Even if she was reckless enough to push them both over the edge, he would resist. He lifted his hands intending to push away, but somehow, they cupped her waist instead. He huffed out half a curse. Was his mind the only one here who understood something about consequences?
Lana kissed his ear and fondled his collar, making his head angle closer. She was picking at one side of his inner lock while his wolf was scratching madly at the other. Between the two of them, he was a goner.
Need a lot of you. Either she whispered it again or the words were still ricocheting through his mind.
She cozied up to him as though she’d done it a hundred times before. It felt so familiar, so right. “I want you hard and fast,” she whispered, nosing the curves of his ear. “I want you wet and wild.” His cock bobbed in agreement as her lips traced the line of his jaw. Her voice echoed through his head as she went on, breaking straight into his fantasies. “Then I want you slow and sensual.”
His wolf seized onto the words with a lusty howl. Yes, his wolf had a very clear vision of how he wanted her, and when and where. Like right here. Right now. Consequences be damned.
He managed a low grumble despite the roaring in his ears. “Slow and…what?”
She drew the word out, weaving her fingers through his hair. “Sen-su-al.”
“Sensual,” he repeated, drawing it out. The whole language of this night felt foreign. The irresistible pull toward Lana, the humming in his veins. Everything about it gave him a thrill, especially now that her hand was wandering south. Part of his mind still sputtered excuses. How would he ever explain slow and sensual to his father? What would he say to the tribunal that would be assembled to lynch them both once they were discovered?
Lana hadn’t buttoned the shirt and it flapped wide, the fabric brushing his thigh. He felt her take his left hand, circle his palm with her thumb, and press it to the soft flesh of her breast. Warm and supple, it echoed the rise and fall of her lungs. He held his breath, trying to beat back the tidal wave about to sweep him away.
“To hell with everyone else,” she whispered, letting her long, toned body melt onto his. They were a perfect match, two continents lining up after eons of separation.
Mine! his wolf roared, lips already reaching for hers.
Lana’s human side knew she should stop, but her wolf just wouldn’t let go. There was no way to resist this irrepressible force, not even if she wanted to.
Ty wore the expression of a boy holding the key to a lion’s cage, terrified of the beast he was about to set free. His shoulders were tense, his eyes smoldering.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d been living through a drought these last years.
Her nipples hardened as she leaned into him and his lips finally yielded to hers. Slow and delicious, that’s what this was. Her blood swelled as her pulse quickened. It was the first time her heart had ever asked—begged—for anything, and suddenly, she wanted it all.
Finally, he was hers. His eyes were a warm drink, something to sip and enjoy. His lips cried out his need for her. His tongue ventured deeper and everything exploded from there.
One second, she was thinking nice as he gently sampled her lips. The next, his callused hands clamped over her flanks and his mouth ravaged hers.
First up on the program, hard and fast.
A blink later, he had her up against the truck, clutching her left leg to his waist. She went on tippy toe with the right until Ty lifted it, wrapping both of her legs around him. She heard herself groaning, pressing her folds against his naked flesh where his shirt had pulled up, burning for more contact. Growling into his ear as he dipped his head and simultaneously slid one of his hands up from her waist. Lips and fingers met at a nipple and began to tease. The man was walking steel, yet his touch was zephyr light.
“We can’t do this,” he whispered. The rest of him, though, seemed all in.
The chafe of his stubble against her sensitive flesh set her soul singing. “We need to do this,” she insisted, pushing her hips against his. No way would her wolf let him get away this time.
She held on as the tension battered him like an ocean wave, until piece by piece, the stubborn scraps of resistance broke down and washed away. Satisfaction washed through her, because this rock of a man was melting—for her. When she arched her back, Ty responded by kneading her nipple with enough passion to drive all logic straight out of her mind. There was no way she could think now, not with him touching her that way. Not with him…carrying her?
She clung to him, eyes fluttering over a shifting landscape of swaying alders, ragged mesquite, and solid rock. Or maybe the latter was Ty. He could be dragging her off to a cave for all she cared. Everything in her screamed for fulfillment.
There was a creak, then a metallic groan as Ty opened the truck’s tailgate and tipped her back with a sure hand. The night sky stretched out as far as she could see, forming a boundless panorama with Ty in the foreground. She lifted her head, eager to watch him strip and slide into her. But his hands stayed on her hips, aligning her with the edge of the gate, too high for his waist. What was he doing?
His hands reached back for her ankle. “Up,” he rasped, patting his shoulder.
A shiver ran through her as she realized what he intended. It was one thing for a wolf’s tongue to explore a lover’s groin, but the act seemed too intimate for casual human coupling. She’d always shied away from giving men access to that part of her, at least with their tongues.
Until now. Nothing was too intimate with Ty. Her pulse raced as she lifted both legs to his shoulders and let her knees buckle, not just opening the curtains but hauling back the entire theater walls. She was handing herself to a near stranger on a silver platter, possessed by some outside force. Yet it felt good. More than good. Liberating.
She couldn’t think beyond that, not with his finger parting her folds. All she knew was that this was an experience beyond any she’d had before, the kind she thought could only exist in her dreams. Her mind just managed to link together that train of thought before his glowing eyes met hers, and he lowered his head to her core.
At the touch of his tongue, her vision exploded into the fiery trails of a hundred comets. Ty lapped at her, first slowly, then with greed, exploring every millimeter of her hidden flesh. She could feel him inhaling her scent, hovering like an intoxicated hummingbird at her entrance, then drinking his fill of her sweet nectar.
She wanted to hum in return. Hell, to sing, to prance with joy. Somehow, hard and fast had gotten mixed up with wet and wild, and the result was better than her hottest fantasies. Because she wasn’t just wet; she was dripping. Feeling ridiculously delicious. She wound her fingers in his hair, riding a rushing wave as his tongue zeroed in on her bud and explored. Meanwhile, one finger, then another slipped deep into her, eliciting a juicy rush and a moan as her muscles clenched around him. She gyrated under him on the brink of letting go.
Spring Feve Page 6
