He'd accompanied Michelle out here with the expectation of using his shifter strength to impress her by lifting the goats into her pickup.
Instead, she'd impressed him by using her brains instead of her brawn.
At least I got Dooley to stop trying to maul her, back at the house, Carl thought wryly.
The big rancher didn't respond, just turned to unlatch the gate.
"I'll be back in a jiffy," Michelle promised, striding off in the direction of the gravel drive where she parked her big Ford pickup.
Carl stayed put, using the borrowed hiking pole to take some of the weight from his injured leg.
"So you and Michelle are an item, huh?" Dennis asked without turning around. His tone sounded a little too casual.
Carl considered his answer. If Dennis really was a shifter, he could sense a lie.
"She's a very special woman," Carl replied truthfully. "And I feel like a very lucky guy."
Dennis grunted.
Red taillights accompanied by a pair of bright white backup lights approached them, turning the falling raindrops into shards of rubies and diamonds.
Michelle parked her pickup, and Carl stepped forward to unlatch and lower the tailgate.
This is going to hurt like hell, he realized. He gritted his teeth against a renewed burst of throbbing pain from his injured leg as he braced one hand on the lowered tailgate and prepared to swing himself up onto the truck bed.
But he'd offered to help her load her livestock, and he'd be damned if he showed Dennis any weakness.
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Michelle said before Carl could launch himself. She flashed him a smile and continued smugly. "Watch and learn, you two."
She reached into the truck bed and lifted a big plastic bucket standing next to the cab. "Open the pen, please."
Dennis looked at the wet, unhappy-looking goats and back at Michelle before he swung the gate open.
"Hey, chiquitas," she called, and without removing the lid, shook the bucket invitingly. "Want a treat?"
Carl saw all three goats suddenly perk up at the sound.
"Come and get your treat," Michelle called, continuing to shake the bucket rhythmically.
The goats looked around and seemed to come to a decision. They made a beeline for the treat bucket, trotting out of the muddy pen and leaping effortlessly up into the truck bed.
As Michelle lifted the bucket's lid and gave them their reward, Carl raised and latched the pickup's tailgate.
Then he moved around to the side of the truck and helped Michelle put halters on the goats, who were chewing happily away and jostling to stick their heads into the wide mouth of the bucket. The halter ropes were then fastened to metal loops welded to the truck's body.
Once her animals had been secured, Michelle turned to Dennis, who still stood next to the pen.
"Well, I won't keep you standing out here in the rain any longer," she said cheerfully. "Thanks a million for catching my does. Have a good evening!"
She waved and opened the door of her pickup, sliding quickly behind the wheel.
Carl followed her into the cab and leaned back in the passenger seat with a silent sigh of relief. It was good to take the weight off his leg. "Well, for a goat rodeo, that all went pretty smoothly."
Michelle put the truck in gear and began to drive away. "Thanks for playing along before."
"Happy to help," Carl said with complete honesty.
He looked in the passenger side mirror and saw Dennis's dark silhouette receding. The rancher hadn't moved. He just stood there next to his pen, apparently oblivious to the downpour, watching them drive away.
"I really hate lying," she continued, "But every time I see him, he tries to ask me out or makes a pass at me. Though he's never actually tried grabbing me before." She gave an annoyed huff. "Maybe he'll finally get the message now and leave me alone."
"If not, I'll be happy to pay him a visit and have a little talk with him," Carl offered.
Carl's wolf agreed enthusiastically.
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," Michelle said, her attention focused on the unlit path ahead as her windshield wipers swept rapid arcs, pushing water out of the way, only to have it instantly reappear.
As they reached the end of the Dooley Ranch's driveway and turned right on the gravel road that led up the hill to Michelle's Woolly Mountain Ranch, Carl asked, "Do you believe that it's really a bear knocking down your fences?"
Her dark brows drew together, but she didn't take her eyes off the road. "What else could it be?"
"I don't know." Though after meeting Dennis, Carl had his suspicions. "Once the rain stops, I could take a look around, see if there are any signs of a bear on your property."
"Even with all this rain? Won't it wash away any pawprints?"
"Probably. But there might be other signs."
"Like what?"
Carl grinned and tapped his nose. "Ever hear the phrase, 'Does a bear shit in the woods?'"
She chuckled. "Good point."
A comfortable silence fell between them as she concentrated on driving. The truck's cab was warm and dry, an intimate darkened space lit only by the soft glow from her dashboard.
After a while, she said, "Thanks for coming with me. I'm, uh, not used to people wanting to help me. It's…nice."
Carl's heart broke a little at the implications behind her simple statement.
He remembered what she had told him over dinner about none of her family members visiting her ranch and that she'd been left to raise her little brother.
Carl couldn't imagine what her life was like. He couldn't imagine trying to navigate life's challenges without his pack or his smokejumper team. Both the wolf and a wildland firefighter believed fervently in the motto "stronger together."
And here was this brave, strong woman who seemed to think that she had to do it all alone. Were all of her friends and family the kind of people who were willing to watch her struggle without lifting a finger to help her?
If she was my mate, I'd move heaven and earth to make her life easier. To make her happy.
I'd be her partner in all senses of the word. I'd give her a pack that she could rely on.
Then Carl came to his senses. His wolf must have abandoned the frontal attack and was now launching a sneak flanking maneuver.
She's gorgeous and damned sexy, but we can't let this go any further than just a fling. There's too much at stake.
This time, his wolf remained silent.
Chapter 10
Delayed Gratification
Back at her place, Michelle was relieved when she and Carl didn't have to coax the goats down off the truck.
They began bleating eagerly as soon as the barn came into view.
She parked the truck in front of the barn and slid open its tall doors. Each of her does eagerly leaped from the truck as soon as they were untied and promptly scampered into the barn to join the rest of their flock in a dry, sheltered place.
"Mission accomplished," she said with satisfaction as she closed the doors behind them.
He gave her a thumbs-up and hobbled over to join her. She wasn’t imagining things—he was definitely moving with more difficulty.
An instant stab of guilt moved through her for letting him tag along despite his injuries. Selfishly, she'd hoped that his presence would discourage Dennis's advances.
"Here, let me give you a hand." It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to slide her arm around his lean waist.
She'd known Carl Jensen for less than twenty-four hours, but somehow, she felt an odd connection with him, as if they'd been friends for years.
He was technically still mostly a stranger…and an actual werewolf, which was still a difficult concept to wrap her brain around. But he was also someone who didn't feel like an intruder in her personal space.
Or at all threatening, despite the fact that she had seen him transform from wolf to man with her own eyes.
Carl must have been in more pain
than he was willing to admit, because he didn't say anything, just drew her close and put his arm around her shoulders. "Thanks."
Her suspicions were confirmed when he leaned on her heavily and made real use of the hiking pole in his free hand as they slogged the hundred yards or so from the barn over to her house.
It was a relief to step inside and escape the rain. They stopped in her mudroom and peeled off their wet rain gear.
She bent to unlace her soaked work boots, the tan leather dark with moisture, and saw Carl sway dangerously as he attempted to remove his own thick-soled, calf-high laced logger boots.
"Sit. Let me," she ordered.
He lowered himself to the mudroom's bench without protest. "Thanks."
She knelt to untie and loosen his boots. That's when she noticed that his bandage, visible through the hole in the leg of his pants, was stained red. A fresh spear of guilt twisted in her gut.
"I think you overdid it today," she said as she pulled off his boots. She added in a mock-stern voice, "I'm sending you straight to bed, young man."
"Only if you come with me," he said in a low, sexy voice that kindled a slow, hot throb of desire in the place between her legs.
She looked up and saw that his eyes had acquired a definite golden sheen.
Michelle scrambled to her feet. Carl rose with her, all signs of pain gone, and put his hands on her shoulders.
His gaze burned into her, intensifying her need. She fought the urge to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his hard, muscled torso.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and saw his eyes fasten on her mouth. Quite suddenly, she desperately wanted him to kiss her.
"Thanks again for coming with me. Even though you probably should have remained here and stayed off that leg."
"It was my pleasure." He slowly bent towards her.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Every part of her yearned for the kiss he was about to give her.
Stranger, werewolf, it didn't matter. Michelle wanted him with an intensity that hit her like a freight train. He was in a totally different league than the men she used to date. Or the one she had married.
Carl drew her against him, and she yielded willingly. She liked being surrounded by his aura of confidence and vitality.
As his arms slipped around her, his big, warm hands flattened against her back and waist. His head dipped past her waiting lips. Warm breath caressed her chilled cheek, sending a pleasant shiver racing down her spine.
An instant later, his sharp teeth gently bit her earlobe.
She gasped at the electric sensation that shot straight to her pussy, and clutched at him. Carl's hands tightened on her in response.
He began nibbling up along the outside curve of her ear, the tiny bites interspersed with warm, wet flicks of his tongue.
She moaned involuntarily and then stiffened with embarrassment at the noise she had made. She couldn't believe how turned on she was from just having her ear kissed.
Carl's mouth lingered on her ear, nibbling and licking. Michelle nearly passed out with pleasure when he took her earlobe between his lips and sucked greedily.
She hung on to his broad shoulders, closed her eyes, and just let herself enjoy the moment.
It had been such a long time since Michelle had been touched with erotic intent by another human being. So long since she'd kissed a man. Or even wanted to fuck one.
As their marriage faltered, Austin had gradually withdrawn into his own little world in the basement. The two of them had stopped talking—and touching—months before the divorce papers were filed. Michelle had been frustrated by his withdrawal from their relationship and exhausted from working all the time, and that had killed her desire for him. In return, when she did try to reach out to him to see if their connection could be rekindled, he had rejected her and acted like she was being unreasonable and demanding.
Now, Michelle's heart pounded loudly in her ears. She felt dizzy and heated and hungry for more. Much more.
And Carl gave it to her.
Hallelujah! Michelle wanted to shout with joy when his firm lips found her mouth at last, and they began to work magic that was every bit as hotly arousing as his caresses along her ear had been just a moment ago.
He traced the outline of her lips with teasing nibbles, making Michelle's breath shudder with the delightful shocks of each lingering contact.
Then slowly, oh so slowly, he deepened the kiss, until he was devouring her mouth with a hunger that echoed her own.
When she parted her lips, he captured her lower lip between his sharp teeth and caressed it with his tongue.
Michelle returned the kiss with enthusiasm, submitting herself utterly to the penetration of his tongue. Mother of God, he's the best kisser I've ever met! He hasn't touched me below the neck…yet…and I'm already more turned on than I've ever been.
She plastered herself against his hard body, winding her arms around his neck and pressing her hips against his.
The hard bulge of his erection assured her that she wasn't the only one enjoying this kiss. He might be in control right now, but he was every bit as turned on she was.
They stood there in the mudroom, kissing, for a timeless, blissful interval.
Despite their rising desire, Carl clearly wasn't going to rush things, and she liked that.
Eventually, though, he drew back.
Michelle ached at the loss of his mouth but was satisfied to notice that his breathing was as ragged and uneven as hers was. His eyes had turned as golden as a wolf's, and her gut told her that was because his beast half was ascendant over his human half.
"Your bedroom," he growled in that same low, sexy voice. "Now."
Her house wasn't huge or anything, but right now, her bedroom seemed a really long distance away.
Michelle snuck a glance around the tiny mudroom, seized with an impulse to fuck him right here.
Then she remembered his leg.
Without a word, she stepped back, laced her fingers through his, and led him through her living room with its spinning wheel and video camera gear, then down the hall to her bedroom.
He stopped their forward progress several times to push her against the nearest wall and kiss her some more.
The second time they stopped, he yanked her t-shirt out of her jeans and pulled it over her head before tossing it aside, Then he slid his hands up to her breasts, cupping them through her bra, his thumbs moving over the thin fabric to raise her nipples to stiff, needy points.
She thrust her hips forward and ground herself shamelessly against the hard ridge of his erection. It felt so good, even through the thick fabric of her jeans.
He pushed her bra down, letting it lift and frame her bared breasts. His eyes blazed as he looked at her.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he growled.
He bent his head, and his tongue darted out to circle her nipple.
She whimpered, and he pinned her shoulders firmly to the wall. He licked her, teasing with wet pressure, then closed his lips over one sensitive nipple and sucked it hard into his mouth.
A jolt shot through her like a white-hot spear, ripping a guttural cry of pleasure from her throat. She was about to come just from the intense sensations that his mouth was giving her.
She clutched at his shoulders and arched, offering him her breasts.
"I can't wait to make you come," Carl said hoarsely. "I want you naked and beneath me."
She wanted that too. She was frantic with arousal, so turned on now that she couldn't think about anything but riding his thick, hard cock.
"Oh God, yes," she moaned.
He picked her up effortlessly, despite his wounded leg, and carried her the rest of the way to her bedroom.
She landed on her back on her mattress.
He was on her instantly, straddling her legs, his fingers urgently unfastening her jeans. He yanked them down her legs before tossing them aside. Her bra and panties followed her jeans to the bedroom floor, and t
hen she was naked.
Bare-chested but still wearing his pants, he knelt between her knees and spread her thighs wide, exposing her wet, needy core to him.
"So beautiful," he husked.
Carl moved over her and kissed her stomach. She expected him to move up and over her and panted in anticipation of being filled by his cock.
Instead, he moved lower, circling her navel with his tongue before dropping a series of kisses on her belly.
Hard Landing Page 10
