For Life (6 page)

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Authors: Lorie O'Clare

BOOK: For Life
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“He will die for what he’s done to you,” Josie growled, his lips brushing over hers as he spoke.

There was no such thing as a werewolf in shining armor, one who would sweep her off her feet and rescue her from all of her misery. No matter that Josie had already swept her off her feet several times since she entered his den. Promises were just words.

And words didn’t have the strength of actions. Even as his mouth pressed against hers and his tongue stroked her until she opened to him, she wouldn’t let the heat that swelled inside her melt her heart.

He cupped her face with long, strong fingers, gently caressing her temples while angling her face to deepen the kiss. His body pressed into hers. Maura brushed her fingertips over his smooth flesh, feeling the length and curves of all that muscle bulging in his chest and shoulders. She ached to explore him, to feel every inch of his power. As 28

For Life

she ran her palms over his shoulders and then down his biceps, muscles quivered and then grew hard against her touch. She doubted there was much of anything soft about Josie.

As if he read her mind and ached to show her how hard every bit of him was, he moved his hand to her back and slid her closer to him. Hell. He probably enjoyed every bit of her tormented thoughts at the moment—thoughts of letting herself go and taking in every inch of this wild werewolf.

Her legs spread further and her crotch pressed against his. His hard cock burned like fire against her pussy. Even through denim, heat sunk deep inside her. She opened for him, drowning in him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and did her best to devour his mouth. Maura wasn’t sure she’d ever had so much hard-packed muscle pressed against almost every inch of her.

When his mouth left hers, she was panting harder than if she’d just raced up the side of the mountain.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he promised, his breath scorching her neck as he nibbled on her oversensitive flesh.

“Josie. Please.” She had to find the rational side of her brain. It was in her head somewhere. “Just because Pete cheated on me doesn’t make it okay for me to dishonor our mating as well.”

Josie straightened, and she hated that she had dampened the mood, ending the best foreplay she would probably ever experience in her life. And it had just been a kiss. The dull throb in her swelling heart hurt almost as bad as the sudden growing knot in her gut. Damn, it was tempting to make a hypocrite out of herself and say what the hell.

“Trust me, Maura. There is no mating any longer. I told you to already consider yourself a widow.”

She searched his face, and it hit her that maybe he had some kind of magic that could reach across the mountain all the way to the
lunewulf
pack and destroy Pete. She pushed the thought to the front of her mind, repeating it, and waited to see if Josie would comment.

His expression didn’t change. Maura frowned. “I can’t consider myself a widow until I know that I am one. And why would you kill for me? We’re strangers.”

“Because already I know your honor is as strong as you are beautiful.”

“If you kill for me, then I would be your mate.”

29

Lorie O’Clare

Chapter Four

Josie didn’t comment. Her mind was in too much turmoil to pursue the topic of mating and pack tradition. Instead he turned his attention to the meat. Opening the broiler, he stabbed one steak with his knife and lifted it from its juices.

“That isn’t something I want you to worry about right now.” She deserved some kind of answer from him. “Come eat my kill while it’s still rare.”

Her stomach growled in response. She’d run hard last night, rode hard on

adrenaline while out in the wilderness and more than likely worried through most of the night. It didn’t surprise him a bit that she was starving.

“Can I help?” she asked from behind him.
Anything to keep my hands and mind off
your body
, she added in her thoughts.

“Sit and let me feed you.” He grinned with his back to her, his pride having a field day over how much she enjoyed watching him move around half naked. It didn’t take hearing her thoughts. He could smell her lust on her.

Many bitches reacted this way around him. He knew he was one hell of a catch, or so they thought. But in the end, he was best at one-night stands. Sooner or later any Malta bitch would bring up his promiscuous past, quickly grow jealous of other bitches sniffing him out and would turn into nags or attempt to fight every bitch in the pack who glanced in his direction. Neither appealed to him.

Maura didn’t know about his past. Although if she spent more time with Heidi and Nicolo, he had no doubt Nicolo would warn against spending too much time with the male slut of their pack.

After putting both slabs of meat on a large serving plate, he grabbed a knife and then placed the plate on the table. Roped muscle bulged under his dark skin as he ran the knife through the thick steaks. Her mouth watered and she knew it wasn’t just from the rich, tantalizing aroma of cooked meat. “There are many qualities that make werewolves strong,” he began, gliding the blade down the center of the steak. Blood and juice poured from the thick slab of meat, pooling around it. He stabbed a sliced portion with the tip of the knife and lifted it to her moist lips. “But it is our traditions that keep us invincible, and they will always ensure that we are the strongest, most powerful species on earth.”

She had the most captivating blue eyes. Her lips parted when he pressed the meat to them, and for a moment she stared at him as if she saw deep into his soul. He would swear she understood the meaning behind his words. Feeding a bitch his kill was a sign that he intended to make her his female.

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For Life

According to tradition, it was the first stage in the dating process. Oftentimes done publicly, so both dens would be aware of the interest between a male and female, a werewolf would offer his kill to a bitch. If the dens approved, the next stage would be public runs together—although in the twenty-first century, more times than not, that consisted of simply going out to bars or nightclubs together. Malta werewolves and
lunewulfs
didn’t socialize together. And Josie didn’t have a den to show her off to in order to gain a blessing. Nonetheless, preparing and offering her fresh meat he had killed with his own claws meant he had an agenda. Maura knew that. Slowly she opened her mouth, and accepted the meat.

It had been in her mind earlier that actions meant more than words. Coming up with poetic words wasn’t his style. His actions would show what he could not say to her before. He pulled the knife from the meat and watched her close her lips and chew.

The morning sun shone through his kitchen window, highlighting the different shades of blonde in her hair. It also brought to his attention an almost faded bruise that lined the side of her face. Josie cut more meat, offering her each bite, which she accepted. Silently he contemplated the best way to kill her mate.

No werewolf who treated a bitch like a punching bag had a right to live.

“Enough,” she said after he fed her half of one of the slabs of meat. “I’m really full.”

For the first time Maura smiled genuinely. It was hard to believe her eyes could sparkle the way that they did. They were a dark shade of blue, like a rare sapphire, solid with no other shades mixed in. Her skin was smooth and without any blemishes.

And shy of a tiny scar that wrapped over the side of her jawbone, there wasn’t an imperfection on her anywhere that he could see.

He is sizing me up
,
drawing his conclusions of me now
. She relaxed, leaning back in her chair. Her thoughts were easy to hear.
And if I learn anything from this mess
,
it

s that I
absolutely suck at judging males
.
What if this one turns out to be as bad as Pete
?

Josie let her sit there and study him while he sliced more of the meat. He ate what was left in silence so he could hear her thoughts. Although before he finished off the meat, what appetite he thought he had quickly disappeared.

What is Pete doing right now
?
I know he

ll do just as he said
.
He is spreading lies
,

convincing my pack that I ran from him
,
left him for some fictitious lover
.
Why didn

t I see
sooner what a loser he was
?
This is all my fault
.
I have no pack
,
no den
,
nothing to call my own
,

and all because I fell for a pretty face with a solid reputation
.
And where does it leave me
?
Alone
.

Well
,
not alone
.
I

m in the den of a single Malta werewolf who is better
-
looking and more
powerful than any lunewulf I

ve ever known
.
But what will he think when he learns how
tarnished I am
?

He’d heard enough. Josie had learned over the years how not to explode over some of the thoughts he picked up from other werewolves. Nonetheless, it took a lot of effort to appear calm when he ached to set a few facts straight right now. “Go shower and I’ll clean up here. The bathroom is down the hall. I should have a shirt that you can wear 31

Lorie O’Clare

after you’re clean, and we’ll have Heidi and Moira bring over some more clothes for you.”

He stood, taking the plate to the counter.

“I can wear the clothes I was wearing before.”

“Nope. You’ll wear nothing that reminds you of the stench that sent you packing.

Go. Do as I say now.” He contained his anger. Releasing it in front of her would only make her skittish.

Maura must have sensed that he was serious. She left the kitchen and he heard the bathroom door close behind her. Turning on his faucet, he stared at the blood-covered plate while the water washed over it. Instinct screamed to seek out blood, tear through flesh and then wash it away just as the water in his sink cleaned off the plate.

Maura had been wronged. She deserved the fight. Her honor would be restored if he clawed out Pete Wagner’s heart. But she was right. And her argument left a strange taste in his mouth. Fighting for her would make her his mate. No matter that she was
lunewulf
, that their packs bordered on extreme hostility if not all-out war every time they crossed paths, werewolf tradition ran stronger and deeper than any feud between packs. Even if their pack leaders despised the truth, if he killed for her, Maura would be his.

There wasn’t much that scared Josie. But thinking about settling down with one bitch and keeping her by his side for life terrified the hell out of him. Josie might be many things, but he’d never been accused of running without honor. Not once had he fucked another male’s bitch. He’d never stolen or killed without good cause. His pride and reputation made him the strong werewolf he was known and feared for being. Yet the thought of mating scared the piss out of him. What if he couldn’t pull it off?

And accepting this simple truth made him feel he was less of a male than he liked to believe he was. Somehow he needed to figure out how to kill her mate, set Maura free and restore her honor without taking that freedom away from her the moment Pete Wagner’s heart quit beating. Once he got that one down, then he would work on how he would handle another male looking at Maura. Just having her scent lingering in his kitchen appealed to him.

“Shit.” He blew out an exasperated sigh. His thoughts bounced back and forth and it annoyed the shit out of him. “Distract yourself, man. Figure out the details later.”

Josie had an extra-extra-large flannel shirt, one of his favorites. He carried it over his arm when he entered the steamy bathroom, after letting Maura soak in the shower for a while without disturbing her. He paused once he pushed open the bathroom door.

The humidity wrapped around him, filled with her scent. But that didn’t distract him as much as what he heard.

Maura hummed in the shower, every now and then putting words to the ancient

song she sang. An old standard sung by mothers throughout the world to their pups.

She mumbled the words, her voice melodic and so sweet-sounding. Then she hummed the chorus.

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For Life

The hot water obviously did her some good. Her thoughts drifted without

direction, jumping from thoughts of him, to her past, to briefly contemplating her future. But when she broke into song, keeping her voice quiet so that if the door had been shut it would have been hard to hear her over the water, her thoughts faded and a peacefulness settled over her.

“I’ve got a shirt.” His words silenced her and he immediately regretted speaking.

She peeked around the shower curtain, holding it tightly so that all he saw was her soapy hair and streams of water running down her cheeks and clinging to her

eyelashes. She blinked, then brought up her hand to keep soap from her eyes.

“Just a shirt?”

“I doubt you’d fit into my pants.”

“I’m sure not.” Her gaze traveled down him quickly. Then she disappeared behind the curtain.

Damn. It sucked big time that he hadn’t bought a clear shower curtain instead of the opaque dark green one that now hid her body from him.

“The towel is clean. I’ll throw your clothes in with my laundry.” Or possibly burn them. He didn’t want anything in his den that remotely smelled of the bastard
lunewulf
that she called mate.

She started humming again, but her tone and mood had changed. It didn’t take climbing into her mind to learn why. Her thoughts jumped out at him without his bidding.

I

ll end up fucking him if he keeps me naked in his den
.
And God

what if I like it
?
Who the
hell are you kidding
,
Maura
?
You

d fucking love it
.
All that muscle
.
He

s so tall
,
so perfect in
every way
.
I am in so much trouble
.
Fucking him would be such a mistake but damn it if I don

t
want him
.
Yes
.
I want him
.
I want him now
.

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