He placed the screen in front of the fire, went outside, and stood naked on the porch, the cold air doing little to ease the heat of his skin.
The icy rain had turned to sleet and the stars were obscured. He sniffed the air—nothing but cold and pines, and the faintest trace of the squirrels that dared to make their nests in the nearby trees. Sleet wasn’t good for running, but if he didn’t let his beast out, he’d be screwed when he had to spend the day with her tomorrow. A run would calm down the residual anger still surging through his blood.
He shifted to wolf, the wracking change of his bones and skin a familiar pain he welcomed. Then he took off into the dark.
He ran through the muck, sliding even on four feet. By the time he made it back to the cabin, the sleet had become snow. Tiny frozen pellets balled up in his paws. He’d run for miles, checking the perimeter and surrounding area. No one would be driving for a while, the icy mountain roads were a mess. He could keep her here one more day on the excuse of the weather, but after that he would have to come up with another reason.
Fuck Leon and this whole situation.
He rolled in the snow to get clean before shifting and headed inside with his anger mostly calmed but his stomach roaring. No hunting on a night like this, and no chance to hunt with his guest here for the week. He made a sandwich and hoped he had enough food or things were going to get dicey.
Wrapped up in an extra blanket, he sat on the stone hearth and watched Gwynn sleep while he ate. His run had cleansed him, but the feeling dissipated as he stared at her innocent face. He was as much a jerk as her father or Leon.
Worse.
He’d fucked her. And no matter what she’d said about not caring about tomorrow, all women expected something. At the very least, honesty. And he sure as shit couldn’t tell her the truth. And to fuck it up even more, he faced a choice—he either had to let her go, and let his deal with Leon go—or he had to spend the whole week deceiving her.
Somewhere, the devil was laughing. And it was at his expense.
Chapter Five
Gwynn jerked out of sleep. It took her a moment to remember where she was and get her bearings by the light of glowing coals. She was burning up, and it didn’t take long to realize the reason was the furnace of a man tucked behind her on the couch. She wiggled and tried to loosen his death grip.
“Are you awake?” His sleep-roughened voice was muffled in her hair.
The roll of heat that stole over her cheeks had nothing do with the faded fire and everything to do with waking up naked with a man she’d picked up on the side of the road.
“Yeah. I’m awake.” She pulled away, looking around for something to cover her nudity and an excuse to put some space between them. “I need some water.” Her mouth was dry, she had a raging headache, and she knew with sick certainty she’d done something way out of character—she’d had sex with a complete stranger.
Of course, it had been the best sex of her life, and she’d had definite reasons, but still...
Aaron’s hold relaxed and Gwynn stretched her fingertips for the blanket lying on the floor.
“By the way, good morning.” Aaron’s eyes glinted in the dark glow of the coals.
“What?” Flustered, she struggled to wrap up in it before getting all the way up and exposing her breasts.
“Good morning. It’s polite to exchange greetings when you wake up naked with someone.”
What was there to say? That she didn’t know him well enough to be polite? “I’m sorry. I...”
Another rush of heat climbed up her skin. She never did this. She chose the men she slept with carefully, at least trying to make smart choices. Nothing she’d done yesterday was smart. Now, she was naked and out of her depth.
“It’s okay. I won’t hold it against you.” His grin flashed.
She realized this was the first real smile of his she’d seen. Last night he’d ranged from grumpy to aroused. Intense, sure, but not normal. Somehow, this smile of his in the dim light of the coals had her feeling a little better about her choices. Maybe he wasn’t so scary after all.
She smiled back. “Good morning.” The sound of rain was gone. Outside everything was still dark. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Four a.m. maybe? Are you okay?”
“Really thirsty.” She stood up. “I could use some water.” She stumbled a little on her way to the kitchen. He was behind her, fast, stabilizing her with a gentle hand.
When he flipped the switch, they both blinked in the sudden brightness. “The glasses are up here.” He turned his back to reach, and she was confronted with the ripple of skin over muscles.
He was stark-naked and inches from her face. A tattoo of three dark blue stars over a stylized mountain ran along his left deltoid. A sudden craving to trace her tongue along the dip in the muscle ripped through her, and she had to clutch the counter for balance. She wanted him warm and heavy between her thighs again. She swallowed and turned her face to hide her lust, hoping he couldn’t see the way her legs quivered.
This wasn’t her—this relentless surge of want that had her in its grip. She never, ever slept with a man on the first date, let alone a complete stranger. She couldn’t believe all she could think about was having him again.
She was the cautious one, slow and steady, the one who thought ten steps ahead. And yet, here she was biting her lip, trying to keep herself from touching this deliciously sexy man standing next to her. Yesterday’s betrayal must have driven her out of her mind.
She glanced around the one-room cabin for the first time, searching for a distraction from Aaron’s temptation. The polite thing to call it was rustic. The correct thing would be a shack. “Um, bathroom?”
“The bathroom’s off the bedroom, through that door.” He bobbed his head towards it.
Okay, two-room cabin. Barely. “Thank you.” She fled the kitchen, shutting and locking the thin door behind her.
She caught sight of her face in the speckled mirror. The wavy lines of the glass distorted her face into a stranger’s. Who was that girl in the mirror, the one whose life had been turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours?
Yesterday, she’d been someone who’d worked hard to overcome her poverty-ridden past. Someone who did more than her fair share at the office and didn’t think about her scummy father more than a few times a year. Someone whose friends kidded about her lack of social life and her pickiness in dating only suits.
Yet, here she was, after a moment of rank stupidity. And amazingly enough it wasn’t sleeping with Aaron that was her mistake. As out of character as that had been—the way her body purred this morning, the way she wanted him again—that had been a good decision.
No, her mistake had been trusting her asshole of a father.
She washed her face and hands in lukewarm water, then glanced again at the girl in the mirror. She squared her shoulders. It was Sunday. She had a whole day to fix this and get back to her real life in the city. Her—work hard, go out a little, and go back to her apartment—life. Sterile, boring, empty. She didn’t even own a pet. Not even a goldfish to miss her.
Unwanted tears welled up and she swallowed them back. Damn it, no more. From now on, she was making different decisions. Look where doing the same old thing day in and day out had gotten her—nothing.
If this is what it took to shake her out of herself, then so be it. Her dad had betrayed her, and because of that betrayal, she’d thrown away her rules and slept with a stranger. And surprise, surprise, it had been amazing. She’d thought all the stories of instant chemistry were lies. She’d been wrong. Deliciously, scandalously, wrong.
Despite her lonely life, despite her crappy father and his betrayal, despite her crazy situation, she actually felt pretty good. And she owed it all to her new risk-taking attitude.
She gave her reflection a stern look and shook her finger at herself. “No more self-pity. You got it? Got it.” With a sharp nod and a last look at her old self in the mirror, she exi
ted into the tiny bedroom and found Aaron waiting for her holding a grey swath of material.
“I’m sorry. Your clothes are still wet, and I don’t think anything of mine will fit you.” He opened up the material and it shook out into out a huge sweatshirt.
She barely looked at it. All her attention was focused on his bare chest. Thoughts of the amazing sex last night swirled through her. Her hands went damp and she practically stuttered out, “Aren’t you cold? This room is freezing.”
“Almost never.” His teeth flashed into a smile. “High metabolism.” He handed her the shirt, but didn’t face away.
For a second, the old Gwynn peeped out. Drop the blanket and get dressed in front of this man? She swallowed, and regrouped.
What the hell, he’d seen all of her last night. He wasn’t the first man she’d slept with, and it was likely he wouldn’t be the last. And she was a new person this morning—a risk-taker.
Okay, maybe not yet. She turned her back to him and dropped the blanket, trying not to think about him scanning her ass as she donned the dress of a sweatshirt and wrapped back up in the warm wool blanket. When she turned back around, he gave her a pair of large, red wool socks.
“Here, these should help with the cold. Are you hungry?”
At the thought of food, her stomach growled. “Starved.”
“Come on, honey, it won’t be fancy, but I’ll make you a sandwich.” He gestured for her to precede him into the kitchen. “I wasn’t really prepared for guests. I’ve got coffee though. But only if you like it black.”
“Black’s, fine.” Not her typical creamy latte, but caffeine sounded amazing.
Her stomach growled again and he laughed. “Food and coffee, coming right up.”
She was conscious of every twitch of her bare backside beneath the swing of the sweatshirt as she walked in front of him. She was hungry, oh, yes, she was hungry, for more of what they’d had last night. But food would do for now. Besides, she still felt a little like the old Gwynn, with those morning-after nerves making her shy away from the heat in his eyes.
He dug in the refrigerator. “Okay, I have turkey, turkey, or let’s see...turkey.” He tossed the package on the counter. “What would you like? Turkey?”
She returned his smile. “Turkey sounds good.” The tightness in her spine eased. She could do this. He wasn’t one of those judgy guys. Aaron would make the morning after easy.
She glanced around while he put together the sandwiches and coffee. There wasn’t much in the room. The kitchen area was a tiny countertop, stove and sink on one side of the door, a rickety table and four chairs on the other, the couch and fireplace...and the door to the bedroom. Her eyes skittered away from that. Somehow the bed made everything real. Not sure why, but out here in the living room they were just Aaron and Gwynn and that was enough for her to deal with now.
She frowned as she examined the room more closely. No cozy overstuffed chairs. No pictures on the wall. There wasn’t a woman’s touch anywhere, just an old umbrella stand in the corner filled with fishing poles and Aaron’s coats on the hooks by the door. It was actually a little weird. Did he live here with nothing except his backpack and a few clothes?
They brought their sandwiches back to the fire and settled down on the couch. The heat radiating off of his skin filled the small space between them and fueled Gwynn’s desire to forget the food, climb on top of his lap, and grind her way into an oblivion of countless orgasmic seizures.
“Do you live up here year-round?” she asked, desperate to keep from making a complete fool of herself.
“No.” He sipped his coffee, seeming utterly unaffected. “I’m just getting away for awhile. How about you, where do you live? You’re sure as shooting not a mountain girl.”
Gwynn looked away. How did you tell a complete stranger about yesterday?
Aaron reached out and took her chin, turned it towards him with a gentle pull. Desire slid across her skin.
“Look, it’s none of my business, but you might feel better if you talked about it.”
Her face flushed, only this time the heat in her skin wasn’t from Aaron’s touch. What to say? Hi, my name is Gwynn, and I’m on the run from my dad and his bookie?
“My ride drove off and left me.”
Aaron kept his sympathetic eyes on hers, but she didn’t add anything more. The silence and the tension residing in Gwynn’s spine grew. She didn’t understand why the sympathetic, almost tender, expression on his face made her uncomfortable. It was almost as if he knew. Could he?
No, that was impossible. She’d been totally alone when her dad had pulled his dick-act. No one for miles.
“As I remember, we were going to get my phone and call someone for you. Reception here sucks. Just in case there might be a few wild bars, I walked out to the road and checked it while you were asleep. No go. Once the weather's cleared a little, we’ll see how the roads are and drive to where it’s better.”
Who would she call anyway? Her dad? The police?
Her mom was down in Texas with hubby number three and she wouldn’t welcome a call. She had nothing to do with her ex and she expected her daughter to do the same. She’d just be all on Gwynn’s ass about how stupid she’d been to trust Herb in the first place and it would be an hour conversation about how horrible Herb had treated Tracy all those years ago. Gwynn would be lucky to get a word in edgewise, let alone tell her mom she needed help.
Tears prickled behind Gwynn’s eyes and the fire became a blurry sea of orange and yellow.
“Hey, hey, honey.” Aaron took the mug from her, pulled her sideways onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug. “No worries. We don’t have to call anyone. You can stay here for a while. Stay as long as you need.”
“You probably think I’m a nutcase.” Despite her best efforts, a hot tear slid down. She tasted salt on her lips and licked it away.
“You’re going through something. And that’s okay.”
He gave her another squeeze and she snuggled deep into his broad chest, giving in to the seduction of his offered comfort. How was it she felt safer here than she could ever remember feeling in her life? The tears fell faster, making her face hot and his chest slick and wet.
“You’ll feel better if you talk about it.” He stroked her hair, his touch soothing her pain.
“You’re offering to talk about my girl problems?” She giggled a little, the sound choked through the tears.
“Hey, somebody has to do something. It seems like those tears aren’t stopping.”
She sat up and sniffed. “You must be desperate.”
“Maybe.” His smile flickered—back almost as soon as it had gone, but his expression stayed serious.
He reached out and brushed her cheek. A single tear rested on his thumb. His eyes locked on hers and he lifted it to his lips and tasted it. She shivered.
Those eyes—cool gray, but with a banked fire deep in the shadows. A fire that called to her, luring her in with memories of the night before.
He pulled her close and feathered her cheeks with soft kisses that stole the saltiness away. “Shh. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.” His husky voice was barely above a whisper.
The tight wrappings keeping her heart safe, loosened. She might be an idiot. Might, once again, be trusting in the wrong man. But inside, where her deepest instincts lived, she believed him. Aaron would make everything okay.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him, tasting the salt of her tears fresh on his lips. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Well then, honey, I think we should fix it another way.” Aaron spread his legs wide and patted his thighs. “Turn around, sit here, and pull your hair to the side.”
Obediently, Gwynn slid over and settled on the couch between his thighs. Her body pressed into his, she began to relax as his powerful hands worked their magic on her shoulders and neck.
She dropped her chin. “Ohhh, that’s nice.”
Exp
ert fingers manipulated her tense muscles until she was limp and her eyes fluttered closed. She wasn’t asleep though. No, far from it. Each slow push and pull sent a sensual pulse through her muscles, spreading through her lower back and easing through her bones, until all she thought of was the night before. And Aaron. And sex.
AARON KNEADED DOWN the breadth of her hips to the top of her backside. Even through the thick material of the sweatshirt he felt the dip of her crease, the swell of her ass. Her small moans of pleasure as he pushed into her muscles began to work on him. His balls tightened and his cock firmed.
He leaned into her back and rested his forehead on her shoulders, almost dizzy with the damp clean scent of her hair. What in the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t some raw kid, losing control in the front seat of his dad’s pickup for the first time. He was an experienced adult. He’d played around enough with the women of the pack. He should be able to exhibit better self-control. How was it he’d never felt like this with one of them? He was supposed to be comforting her but all he wanted to do was sink inside every piece of her and immerse himself in Gwynn.
Gwynn was a victim, lost and abandoned, and he’d just lied to her. He’d told her he’d take care of her. But when he’d said it, it hadn’t felt like a lie—it had felt like the God’s honest truth.
He stopped rubbing, his hands hovering at her waist. He was no better than scum, he should leave her alone. He tried to slow his breathing, get back his control, but right when he thought he had it, she wiggled her sexy ass against him, and his cock twitched.
Hell no. He wasn’t stopping. He couldn’t stop. She felt too good.
He began again. This time each slow, even caress was a sexual message as he rubbed and stroked his way around her ribs to her belly. Every touch, every sound she made, every shiver from his touch made his feverish skin burn.
Why this woman? Why should she be the one who made him unable to get up and move away from temptation? Was it just his isolation? Had he been away from people, from his pack, so long that he saw anyone, even a complete stranger who wasn’t a shifter, as someone to belong to?
Fated Mate: Paranormal Werewolf Romance (Fated Mountain Wolf Pack Book 1) Page 5
