First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series) (17 page)

BOOK: First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series)
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“To a room, of course.” He set her on her feet with her back against his powerful frame. An enormous fallen tree had bent several others to the ground years ago. The living ones curved and struggled their way skyward once more, but not without forming a thick, fragrant bower of evergreen branches that swept
the ground. A part between them formed a narrow doorway, and Travis led her inside.

“This is pretty amazing,” she said, admiring the thickly interwoven limbs above and around them. The shelter it formed was roughly bowl shaped, with the center ceiling over seven feet tall. The floor was a mix of dry grasses, strangely flattened and stirred into odd spiral patterns. She frowned then. “Hey, does something live here? I’m not staying in a damn Sasquatch hotel, buddy.”

“Nobody lives here,” said Travis. He pulled her tight against him, the bulge in his jeans pressing into her backside. His big hands cupped her breasts as he bent to nuzzle her hair. “Deer bed down in here in bad weather because it’s dry and protected. Nothing else.”

He planted soft, open-mouthed kisses along her neck as he unbuttoned her jeans, and she shivered with pleasure as he slid a hand inside. Questing fingers stroked the soft mound of her vee, and she rocked her hips, wanting, needing
more
. A wave of heat flushed the delicate skin above her breasts and up her throat, and her clothes seemed cumbersome and heavy. In a single smooth movement, she pulled her T-shirt over her head, taking the tiny scrap of a bra with it.

The blood pulsed in his veins, in his ears, his head—and especially in his cock. The throbbing drowned out every thought, every sense of caution, every hesitation he might have had. And when Neva began to undress, he was utterly lost, swamped in deep water by a wave of sheer want. Travis shrugged out of his jacket and shirt in a heartbeat. Groaned as his hot skin came in contact with hers, as she rubbed herself like a cat against him. Turning her, he held her tightly, reveling in her firm breasts and erect nipples pressing into his flesh. And when he could no longer stand it, Travis seized her by the waist and lifted her straight
up so he could taste those luscious caramel-colored nipples. Neva squealed and kicked as her head brushed the ceiling of tree limbs, but he held her there firmly, effortlessly, and feasted on her breasts until his cock threatened to burst from its denim prison.

As if she sensed his need, she reached for his zipper as soon as he set her on her feet. He groaned as he sprang free, but his relief was incomplete. He had to have more, and he had to have it with the woman who was in his arms. No one else would do, came a new thought.
No one else would ever do.
He wanted, needed, yearned, ached to have her. Nothing in his world, in his entire long life, had ever been so important, so imperative, as being skin to skin with Neva Rayne Ross…who was even now kicking free of the last of her clothes.

In a flash he was on his knees, clutching her hips as he kissed his way down her belly to the dark, delicate curls of her vee. Her hands tangled in his hair, and her breath came faster as he slid his arm between her knees and planted his hand at the small of her back, pulling her tight against his mouth as he began to lick where her clit lay hidden. With the other hand, he thumbed aside a soft fold, exposing it to his tongue. Writhing against him, she moaned as her breath hitched with pleasure, her clit beginning to swell against his lips like a smooth round pearl. He took turns bathing it with his tongue and suckling it ever so gently, like a nipple. He could feel her excitement climbing, her hips instinctively arching into the sensation, and he reveled in heaping pleasure upon pleasure. She gasped as he slipped a finger inside her, as he began to stroke the velvety heart of her core, as he continued to flick his tongue over her clit.

The orgasm screamed through her like lightning, raw and powerful.

The wildness rose in Travis, too, and he stood, lifting her until he could settle her velvet sheath just above his cock. She
grinned at him and clutched his shoulders as he allowed her to hover there for a breath, then two, letting her moisture tease the head of his penis, letting the tip tease her soft folds apart. “
Yes, yes, yes, yes,
” she chanted, and wriggled in an effort to get what she wanted. The movement teased him unmercifully until finally he released her…

She orgasmed again as she slid down his cock to the hilt, clawing at his back as if trying to pull him in even farther, even as he fought to remain still…Ah hell, three seconds of stillness was long enough. He began to pump his hips, and she matched his rhythm, wrapping her legs tightly around him, rubbing her breasts against his sweat-slicked chest. He rolled to the ground with her, moving with her, breathing with her. They gasped and clutched at each other until he couldn’t tell where he left off and she began. Two universes merging, colliding—

Exploding into one.

They reached for each other twice more before collapsing in the grass. Every molecule seemed utterly spent, and Travis wondered if his brain had leaked out of his ears. He couldn’t seem to put together a single coherent thought. What he
felt
, however, was plain. More than merely sated—more like
complete
. He closed his eyes, enjoying the simple sweetness of the sensation, with Neva’s head nestled on his shoulder and her body draped like a rag doll across his.

He was almost asleep when a single word drifted across his mind, a word that didn’t come from his human self at all.

Mine.

Go away,
he thought. He didn’t feel like dealing with his alter ego right now. He’d rather nestle down into blissful sleep, breathing in the warm fragrance of Neva’s skin and the satisfying tang of recent sex.

Mate.
His wolf was insistent.
Mine.

Give it up, will you? It’s been the best afternoon of my goddamn life. Don’t spoil it with your bullshit.

Mate. Mine. Ours.

We can’t do that, and you know damn well why.

It did. He had a mental image of the wolf pulling back, bowing its head a little as if ashamed. But instead of retreating to wherever it lived inside him, the wolf suddenly came roaring up to the surface, snarling and clawing as if it would tear him in two. Travis managed to fling Neva to one side just as he Changed form. The massive tawny wolf leaped from the shelter and hit the ground, running hard.

What the hell?
Neva was in no mood to be awakened, especially not so abruptly. She sat up from where she’d landed, but there was no sign of Travis, only a pair of sparks that slowly floated down to the dry grass and sizzled there. She grabbed one of her shoes and beat them out, then brandished the shoe as if looking for something else to pound with it. Nothing appeared, however.

Where had he gone? Her hair crackled with static as she pushed it out of her eyes, telling her that he’d taken on his furry form, but why? And why the hurry? Were they in danger? Had someone found them? Just in case, Neva got dressed, although her body was slow to obey her commands. It was still in that delicious state of languor that followed satisfying sex—and the sex had been utterly incredible.

She certainly had no regrets. She’d been attracted to Travis for some time now, maybe even from the very beginning. And she’d finally decided to act on the attraction—
oh, hell, I did way more than that.
Neva had discovered a wildness in herself that both startled and excited her. She’d indulged herself thoroughly in exploring, rubbing, touching, licking, tasting this man…and enjoying all those delicious things in abundant return. Travis
had given her everything she ever wanted and a few things she hadn’t even
known
she wanted.

As she tied her running shoes, she wondered if perhaps Travis was having second thoughts.
Is that why he left?
Naw, that didn’t make sense, she chided herself. If the guy wanted to leave because he was uncomfortable with the inevitable after-sex interaction, he would have just walked. After all, the door was literally open, right? Why shove her to one side and go all
Wild Kingdom
inside this small space?

Speaking of which, what about his wolf? During the first round of sex, she’d spotted the great tawny creature lingering like a golden shadow behind Travis’s features. She’d been too preoccupied, too aroused to give a damn, of course. So the wolf wanted to watch? So what? She’d heard it howl in her mind, too—not the mournful howl of wild wolves, but a throaty roar of triumph that echoed through her own orgasm. It was a wonder she hadn’t joined in.

During rounds two and three, however, Travis’s wolf had been strangely absent. Maybe it had gotten its fill the first time. Maybe it had just been curious. After all, one of her friends had a black Lab that was forever sticking its nose into her physical relationships—literally—if she forgot to shut the bedroom door. The fact remained that Neva had never had sex with a werewolf before. Was it supposed to be like that? She hadn’t been a werewolf before, either. Had Travis seen
her
wolf as well?

There were no answers, just more questions. Like, did Travis expect her to just wait here or what? Well, she certainly didn’t need his permission to head for the truck—but she
would
approach it cautiously just in case any of Meredith’s minions were in the area. She’d keep her head down and recon the area from the cover of the woods before she walked out in the open.

An hour later, Neva was still in the bushes at the edge of the tree line. The truck was in plain sight. Travis, however, was not, and it was really starting to piss her off. Geez, had he bailed on her? She felt more than a little foolish for declaring that she trusted him, and yet she’d only told the truth.
Get a grip, girl.
Wasn’t it more likely that he just didn’t know how to handle things between them, postintimacy? She pictured his characteristic frown, imagined him struggling to think of something to say.
Ha.
Maybe he thought she’d be looking for some sort of commitment from him. Sure, she was warming up to the idea of building something between them, but she was going to let that happen—or not—at its own pace. Whatever his issue was, there was no sign of man or wolf anywhere, and she had no idea what she should do. She did know that she’d had enough of waiting around. What if she just started driving until he caught up to her?

Assuming he planned to come back at all,
said an unwanted voice in her head.

Shut up,
she told it, even as she shouldered her backpack. After being chased by Meredith’s enforcers, she didn’t feel like hanging around any one place for very long—and she didn’t even know where the hell she was. Travis could damn well find her later if he was so inclined. And if not, well, she’d be pretty disappointed, but at least she didn’t need his help anymore.

At an abandoned garage that morning, he’d spent an hour demonstrating what he called Clothing Retrieval 101. Of course, he made it look easy—one minute he was a wolf, the next, a hot guy who rocked an old leather jacket and jeans. Then he did it twice more. He talked her out of trying it herself, citing that she needed more rest before she shifted form again, but she thought she had the basic points down. In case she didn’t, she’d filled the backpack full of clothes at the thrift store.
Best to be
prepared.
Hopefully, if she practiced enough, her human form would one day be fully dressed when she was finished running on four feet.

Funny how things changed. Originally, she’d determined to
never, ever
take on animal form again. Yet she knew darn well she couldn’t have escaped Meredith’s servants yesterday if it hadn’t been for her powerful and agile lupine form.

And Travis.

At least she’d had the chance to ask Travis about the werewolf—correction,
Changeling
—laws he’d spoken of. He’d insisted that Changelings like himself followed a strict code. They weren’t supposed to force others into becoming like them, and they didn’t believe in harming humans. Was it possible that not all werewolves were the brute animals she’d come to hate? She certainly didn’t hate Travis—although his disappearing act wasn’t winning him any points, and she was
so
going to kick his ass if he showed up again. (When.
When
he showed up again.) If there was such a thing as a good guy among werewolves, it was probably Travis Williamson. He’d assumed responsibility for her when he didn’t have to, and he’d managed to take pretty good care of her. He was a thief, certainly—something that still puzzled her—yet he had chosen not to be a killer.

He wanted to kill my sister.

Obviously that code of nonviolence didn’t extend to Changeling justice. A sudden chill made her shiver as guilt pointed an accusing finger at Neva. She’d just had sex with someone who wanted to sentence her only sister to death. Not that Meredith didn’t deserve it—after all, she murdered people regularly without a second thought. Her followers did, too. But there had to be another way. Had to be. Meanwhile, Neva was left with a question—were all werewolves natural-born killers, just as she had thought? What about Travis?

Hell, what about
me
?
Neva was a werewolf now, too. Could she trust
herself
? Was her judgment influenced by the creature that lived within? Would her basic nature change, making it only a matter of time before she took someone’s life? She hadn’t fallen in line like the rest of Meredith’s victims—but was that only a matter of time, too? Would she one day run back to her sister, as anxious to please as the rest of the mindless followers—and just as willing to murder for her?

Neva’s head hurt from all the answerless questions. Her only chance was to avoid Meredith, and that meant living out her days on the run or in hiding. There was no hope that her sister would either forgive her or forget about her. Not because she missed her or anything like that, of course. There was no love lost between them, and hadn’t been since day one. Meredith would take tremendous pleasure in humiliating Neva and forcing her to do everything she could think of that was against her nature.
Especially
hurting people. And Neva had no doubts that remaining family members would top the list—Meredith had hinted at that more than once.

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