Far From Innocent (13 page)

65

Lorie O’Clare

“Lovely.” A creeping, warm feeling churned inside Erin. She put down her cup.

The coffee suddenly wasn’t sitting so well in her tummy. “The last thing I want for you or my den is trouble. And I swear I’m not trying to force myself on Juan. I’m really not.”

She left the kitchen and hurried to where she’d slept the night before. Folding the blanket, she placed the pillow Moira had given her on top of it and set them on the couch.

“Thank you for allowing me into your den.” She nodded with the respect she’d give a queen bitch and headed toward the front door.

“Where are you going?” Moira asked and then added quickly, “Juan would want to know.”

“I’m not sure. I need to clear my head.” She was an idiot not to think through the repercussions of coming here.

And now possibly Juan’s feelings for her might have changed. If he thought she tried to trap him, he would run. No werewolf liked being cornered.

The cold air hit her and she turned, meeting Moira’s gaze as she stood in the doorway to her den. The bitch’s expression wasn’t readable. Erin stifled her nerves, always leery around werewolves whose scent wasn’t obvious.

“Be safe.” Moira stepped back into her den and closed the door.

“I’d rather be happy,” Erin murmured.

She had to look like shit, but at the moment she didn’t care. There weren’t any werewolves on the road as she stomped toward her den, ready to take on her littermates the moment she got there. A mixture of relief and frustration settled inside her when neither of them was home.

“Lucky for you,” she told her empty den and stripped before heading for a hot shower.

The steamy, hot water was better than she’d thought it would be. Every muscle in her body screamed with relief while she rubbed a soapy washcloth over her. No matter how hard she scrubbed though, the apprehension trickling through her didn’t fade.

What exactly had Juan said to Dante? What had Moira overheard? Moira had never said exactly what words were exchanged between the two werewolves.

She twisted her hair in her hands after getting all the soap out and then turned off the water. Stepping out, she wrapped her hair and then rubbed her body with another towel. Juan’s hands had been on her, his mouth had licked and nibbled her flesh and his body had pressed against hers. He’d filled her, made her explode and had come deep inside her. Her pussy still throbbed from how he’d swelled inside her, making them one and holding her close until he could pull out of her.

Pulling the towel along her body, she closed her eyes and swore his fingers still touched her. His tongue tortured her. His breath burned into her flesh. The way he whispered her name and demanded her submission got her so hot, she got dizzy aching for him.

66

Far From Innocent

“Damn it,” she whispered, her knees getting weak while her lust fogged the bathroom. It hung heavily in the steam while she saw his determined expression in her mind.

She swallowed slowly, smelling his unique musky scent. He was in her pores, her mind, her soul—his mark was on her. No matter that she’d just scrubbed every inch of her body and thoroughly rubbed herself dry. Juan had claimed her and she prayed her mark was on him too—that every breath he took kept her in his mind.

“Just as it’s been for centuries,” she said to her reflection in the steamed-over mirror.

Werewolf tradition stated if a werewolf fucked a bitch, he mated with her. It definitely wasn’t a rule that was paid heed too much these days. And she’d enjoyed a stray or two that she knew hadn’t left any mark on her. But that had been just sex, a stress release, an escape. Physical need being pacified was one thing.

Juan had made love to her. From the first moment she’d spotted him when her pack had arrived here in the mountains, he hadn’t been just another werewolf. At that time it hadn’t occurred to her. But as the months passed and she’d seen more of him, he’d gotten under her skin. Then when he’d found her running from the
lunewulfs
and fucked her on the side of the mountain, something had happened between them. Over the next couple of days, she hadn’t been able to quit thinking about him.

Now she saw why. The age-old tradition had come into play. When a werewolf found his mate, he marked her, put his scent on her so that other werewolves would know she wasn’t available.

Last night, when Juan came to her den, took her—no, made love to her—they had mated. Every inch of her tingled. Her pussy throbbed, matching the hard beat of her heart.

“I love him.” She wiped the mirror, creating a circle so that her reflection could stare at her clearly. “I really do love him.”

There were no other emotions to compare to what took over her at that moment.

Heat built inside her. But it was more than physical. Her thoughts were hot and her feelings smelled like they were on fire. It wasn’t a bad smell. Not at all.

She pulled the towel off her head and her tangled hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, cooling her feverish skin. Licking her dry lips, she had to know where he was, what he was doing. And most importantly, what thoughts were in his head.

“You’ve got to be thinking about me too, wolf man.” There was no way they could have shared such an intense night and he not be dwelling on her too.

Not to mention he’d taken a beating from her littermate. Werewolves had a very high metabolism compared to humans. Even though Dimitri knocked Juan

unconscious, today his bruises would be minimal. He’d be completely healed before the day was out.

67

Lorie O’Clare

Dimitri would still pay hell for being such a pompous idiot and taking advantage of Juan having such strong values. It made her littermate appear the bully, a coward. That wouldn’t look good when he ached to be pack leader. And she sure as hell planned on telling him that.

But Dimitri could rot for all she cared. Releasing a long breath, she wrapped her towel around her and opened the bathroom door. She’d get dressed and head back out.

No matter what Moira suggested—or what Erin feared the bitch had meant—she had to find Juan.

The phone rang and she glanced out the front window as she followed the sound to where the cordless lay on the coffee table. Getting out of here before Dimitri or Nicolo got home would be a hell of a lot easier. Not that she’d let either of them bully her—not after that stunt last night. It would just be better if there were no confrontation at all right now.

“Hello,” she said.

“What are you doing?” Juan’s deep voice rushed through her like wildfire.

“Hi there,” she said, suddenly flustered.

“Moira said you left. I wanted to make sure I knew where you were.”

Shit! He did care about her as much as she did him. Her heart raced so quickly it was hard to get her mind to work. Her body was on complete overdrive, every inch tingling with need.

“Where are you?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as completely unnerved as she felt.

“We just finished hauling some lumber up the mountain for another den. More Malta werewolves arrived today and are staying in Valle until they can settle in our territory.” He spoke to her as easily as if they shared their daily lives with each other all the time.

She didn’t want to ruin the relaxed moment. Something had passed between them the night before though. And Dimitri had escalated it with his outburst. It needed to be discussed. She hated doing it on the phone though, not when she couldn’t see his face or smell him while they spoke.

“When can I see you?” she asked.

“Do you want me to stop by on my way to my den?” he asked, laughing instantly as if her littermate beating him was a light matter.

“Sure.” She couldn’t help smiling, imagining he grinned at his own joke as well.

“I wish I could.” His voice got deeper. “There were too many werewolves around earlier when I saw Dimitri and Nicolo, but when I can, I’ll speak to your littermates.”

Her heart came to a skidding halt. He would speak to her littermates? About what?

“I’ve got to get back to work. Be good and I’ll talk to you soon.” He hung up without saying goodbye, leaving her with even more questions than before he called.

68

Far From Innocent

She dropped the phone, growling and storming into her room to find clothes.

“Damn werewolf,” she grumbled.

Her heart jump-started to life, pounding harder than her human body could handle. Now she really needed to see him. And she didn’t even know where he was. All they had was a simple phone line, so there was no caller ID. Obviously he had her number, but she hadn’t managed to get his yet. He’d made sure she was where he wanted her to be. But damn him for not thinking she had a right to know his whereabouts.

“Well, I can find you,” she decided, putting on her bra and pulling a sweater over her head, then grabbing jeans out of her drawer.

He wanted to train her, to show her how to let go and submit to him. And the night before, she’d craved giving him that pleasure, completely handing him the leash. But it was a two-way street and no werewolf on the planet seemed to have that one figured out. Juan was no exception.

She grinned, happiness taking over her frustration and giving her room a clean, fresh smell. He had called. In spite of the fact that she had so many questions, he’d sniffed her out.

A swelling inside her turned into an unbearable pressure. Need coursed inside her with newfound energy. Not only would she find him, but at the first chance they had, she would make love to him. If they could even come close to the intensity they’d shared the night before, she would have to have him on a very regular basis.

She tugged her jeans over her still-damp skin and the rough material pressed into her pussy. Hard, rough waves of lust ripped through her insides. When had she ever craved a werewolf so much?

It was more than a physical need though. She wanted to see him, touch him, hear him tell her what he’d do to her. And she definitely loved how he got rough, spanked her, demanded that she hold a certain position for him. She wouldn’t deny the physical part mattered. But that wasn’t all there was with Juan. She wanted in his mind, to know his thoughts, to experience the werewolf who was so strong he would endure a beating simply to honor tradition and her.

The front door to their den opened, and at the same time she heard Nicolo and Dimitri talking.

“Shit.” She hadn’t even heard them pull up.

Before she could grab her brush, her littermate appeared in her doorway.

“I want to talk to you,” Dimitri said, his expression relaxed even though his tone was stern.

“You made an ass of yourself last night.” She turned her back on him, running her brush through her tangled hair.

“What has already happened isn’t the issue here. We’ll discuss what is going to happen.” He sounded too calm, and she didn’t smell any anger.

69

Lorie O’Clare

Slowly she turned around, parting her hair and brushing it out as she met his gaze.

Nicolo moved behind him, giving her a quick once-over.

“She can come out here and talk to us in the living room once she’s done.” Nicolo put a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, forcing him to turn.

Trepidation oozed through her when she entered the living room a few minutes later. Something in the air didn’t set well with her. Both of them were too resolved, as if they’d plotted and now were satisfied with their end result. She had a feeling she wouldn’t experience the same satisfaction.

Not to mention, she did want to talk about last night.

“How do you think the pack will react to a werewolf who takes advantage of an age-old tradition to beat the crap out of another werewolf?” she asked, starting the conversation as she took a seat on the couch. “You made yourself look bad, Dimitri.”

“I protected your honor,” Dimitri hissed. “And the pack will see it that way too.”

“I love him.” Speaking the words out loud, and in front of her littermates, shocked her almost as much as it did them.

Nicolo cursed, running his hand through his hair. Dimitri glared at her, rendered speechless only for a moment. His anger filled the air—an emotion a lot easier to deal with than the unnerving calm resolve she’d sensed on both of them moments ago.

“No you don’t,” Dimitri said after they’d stared at each other for a minute. “If you even understood the emotion, you wouldn’t feel it for a werewolf who belongs to a den that ruined our lives.”

She almost screamed at him. She wouldn’t let go of her happiness though. It was the only way to show Dimitri how wrong he was. She shook her head, feeling for her littermate and all the hatred he harbored.

“What happened in Malta did ruin our lives. But it wasn’t Juan’s fault. And you must be able to smell on Dante that he tells the truth. He didn’t help burn our pack. It was a terrible day. I still cry over losing our sire and mother.”

“We all do,” Nicolo said quietly.

“It’s time to let it go, Dimitri,” Erin said, daring to move closer to her littermate and reach for his arm. “We need to move forward and forgive so that we can be happy.”

He grabbed her hand, his eyes glowing with hints of silver. “Exactly. And I’ve taken measures to see that will happen.”

“Now don’t get your claws out.” Nicolo scooted the coffee table to an angle, sitting in front of her. “Hear us out and I really think you’ll like what we’ve done.”

“What you’ve done?” She smelled a rat.

Dimitri pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. He held it out. “There is a pack in Fargo, North Dakota. John Campbell leads the pack there. Decent werewolf, I hear tell. He and his mate Margo will take you in. They said you can stay with them until you find a den that suits you. They need a teacher for the pack’s school.”

70

Far From Innocent

“A teacher?” Erin jumped off the couch. “In Fargo, North Dakota? You’re shipping me out of here?”

She couldn’t believe her fucking ears.

“This is a good idea.” Dimitri actually seemed to believe what he said. There wasn’t anger in his eyes, just determination. “Erin, I know you think you’ve found a werewolf here. Trust us, please. We really want your happiness.”