My Secret Werewolf Lover (My Secret Lover) (2 page)

“Damn it,” I whispered, folding my arms over my bare breasts.

Now I had no choice. I either had to go outside and hope no one stumbled over me while I put my wet, smelly things back on, or I needed to get into the wolf-occupied section of the tent. I knew I probably should check on the creature, anyway. The silence was ominous, and chances were damn good that I now had a rapidly stiffening canine corpse to deal with. What a fucking idiot I’d been, practically dragging that thing into my tent!

By the time I reached for the zipper with shaking hands, I wasn’t sure which would be worse—finding the animal dead or still alive. The fact that I might not find the animal at all never occurred to me, so when I unzipped the nylon flap and peeked inside, my mouth fell open.

“What the hell?” I whispered.

A man was lying where the wolf had been. He was naked and unconscious on my air mattress, with his head dropped slightly over one end. A dark, wavy tangle of hair hung long over the edge of the bed, and his stretched-out body was tanned and smudged generously with dirt. His powerfully muscled chest glistened with sweat and bore an ugly, gaping hole near one shoulder. I’m ashamed to admit that I skimmed right over the wound to focus my attention below his waist. The biggest cock I’d ever had the privilege of seeing in my bed lay along a thickly corded thigh. The man was dirty, he was disheveled, and he was an utter mystery.

And he was magnificent.

He flinched as though he were having a vivid nightmare, and a shudder passed over him. The sight of rippling and very male flesh froze me like a statue, but when his eyes suddenly shot open, the eerie, golden glow in their depths shocked a scream out of me.

They were the wolf’s eyes.

My yell drew the man’s attention before I could slap a hand over my mouth, and his head whipped toward me. The way those eyes targeted the fact that I had practically nothing on shot my arms over my chest. My predicament had taken on a whole new level of danger that I hadn’t considered.

I started to back away, but with a speed that hardly seemed possible, he was on his feet—though staggering profoundly—and he grabbed me around the waist. I struggled while he shoved me onto the bed, climbed on top of me and lowered his head straight to my bare breasts.

Jesus, the man was warm. And hard—everywhere that counted. His desperate, wild hunger was obvious as he growled and sucked my nipple deep into his mouth. The flood of sexual current was sharp and immediate. So was my reaction. I shoved him away and slapped him across the face, hard.

“Get off of me,” I said, scrambling backward until I half-toppled off the mattress.

I was contemplating running naked into the woods, even though I knew he would no doubt catch me, when he gave me a look of genuine confusion and then winced in pain. He collapsed onto his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said with what appeared some difficulty as he clutched at his injured shoulder. His stiff cock, however, didn’t look a damn bit remorseful. “I thought you were offering yourself to me.”

I glanced away from his swollen meat. “Oh, really? Do most women give themselves up to you before they even know your name?”

He gritted his teeth as he tried moving his injured arm. A new trickle of blood flowed down his chest. “You were standing there naked. Of course I assumed you were trying to heal me with an offer of sex.”

I’d been standing in a semi-combat stance up until that point, but now I let out an indignant snort as I straightened, covering my breasts with my forearms. “I do have underwear on, you know. I was just coming in here for dry clothes. And are you serious? Sexual healing? This is a campsite, not a Marvin Gaye song.”

“What’s a ‘Marvin-Gaye’?”

He spoke with a deep tenor that struck a pleasant chord in my stomach, along with a slow deliberation that could have been because of the pain, but sounded more like he wasn’t used to talking much.

“Marvin Gaye makes music guys like to play when they want to get laid.” I cocked my head at him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Elijah,” he said. “Thank you for hiding me from the hunters. They would have succeeded in destroying me if not for your kindness. They knew me for what I am.”

I swallowed. “And what are you, exactly?”

He paused, and the jolt I felt when his searing, golden gaze met mine spiked heat through every inch of me. “I would answer if not for the fear in your eyes, beautiful though they are. So blue under that pale gold hair.”

That twisted happily in my stomach. Oh, no. Hot, Dirty Stranger was
not
trying to seduce me right in my own tent.

I blinked away some X-rated fantasies that thought conjured up. “You’re a werewolf,” I whispered, wishing my voice wasn’t so shaky.

He didn’t reply. His eyes were on the move again, sliding along every inch of my poorly-covered body. I suppose he had a point about why he’d assumed my intentions were naughty.

Against my better judgment, I slipped inside the sleeping compartment with him. I found the black duffel and stuffed a hand inside, yanking out the first garment my fingers closed around. I stuck my arms into the massively oversized, brown plaid shirt and secured the button over the center of my breasts first. That’s as far as I got before I heard Elijah’s bulk shift on the mattress. I spun around, afraid he was about to make another grab for me. Instead, I saw that his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open in a silent scream while his fingers dug into the wound near his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped. His silent scream turned into an anguished moan as he pulled his finger out. It was smeared with his blood.

“The bullet is silver,” he said through clenched teeth. “It will have to come out.”

“Well, of course it has to come out. But not with your dirty finger. The hole will get infected.”

“The only thing that can make a werewolf’s wound fester rather than heal is silver,” he said, raking a hand through his messy, black waves. How could the man make snarled hair look so damned sexy?

“Take it out,” he said. “Please.”

My eyes widened. “Me? I don’t know anything about taking out a bullet. I don’t even know what half the shit in my First Aid kit is for.”

“Do you have a knife?”

My head shook back and forth rapidly. “No. No way.”

“You went camping without a knife?”

“I have a knife. I’m just not about to use it on you.”

“A reassuring thought, though there would be no danger to me if you did. Not unless the knife was silver or plated.”

“We should get you to a hospital,” I said, folding my arms over the single fastened button to stop a sudden shiver. “A doctor can take the bullet out surgically.”

“I think you know why that isn’t possible.” His head rolled to the side so he could glance at the wound. “Please do this. I will heal rapidly if you cut the bullet out. If you don’t, I will lose my arm in a matter of days.”

I sucked in a breath at this. His eyes, which were dimming to a much duller, almost grayish glow, pleaded his case. I’d tried to save the wolf, after all. Shouldn’t I try to save the man?

“Let me get some stuff,” I said. “Stay here.” Not that he seemed in any shape to go anywhere else.

After a couple minutes of dashing around, I returned with a towel and wet washrag, the First Aid kit, both of my flashlights, and a small hunting knife.

I spread the towel beneath his shoulder and propped one of the flashlights nearby to direct more general light than the faux lantern provided. I sat beside him with the knife in my hand, not sure what to do. I pointed the other flashlight beam directly at the wound.

“I can’t even see the bullet. How am I supposed to get it out?”

“It’s deep. Cut down until you find it.”

I gripped the knife handle tightly and held it over the wound. The blade looked huge compared to the bullet hole. My hand began to quiver.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, shutting my eyes as I pictured cutting through his magnificent flesh. “I don’t even have anything to numb the pain. You’ll suffer.”

“I’m suffering now.” The inflection in his voice left no doubt of that.

With a nod, I sucked in a deep breath and dug into the wound. He cried out and stiffened as the knife sliced down, and I used the tip to search until I felt it tap against metal. Blood flowed bright red over his chest and onto the towel as I worked, cutting down beneath where the bullet had lodged deep in his shoulder. Elijah was trying desperately not to thrash around with fair success, and not to scream with only partial success. The agony I was causing flooded out from him in waves, and I had to blink away the hot tears that fell onto his chest so they wouldn’t blur my vision.

“I’m sorry,” I said tearfully as I edged the blade tip beneath the bullet. “I’m so sorry.”

It took a few tries, but I finally got the bullet out of him. By then, the wound was flapped open wide and bleeding profusely. I clamped the damp rag down on it to staunch the flow.

“Thank you,” he said, and while he definitely sounded weak and shaky, there was an overwhelming relief that I knew both of us felt.

My limbs wobbled as I cleared everything away and left to clean up, returning to paw through the First Aid kit. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, and I did a piss-poor, but well-intentioned job of bandaging up the damage.

“There’s some aspirin in here,” I said, holding up a bottle of pills from the kit. “And I brought some beer. It might help a little.”

He shook his head.

I sighed. “I wish there was something else I could do to ease the pain.”

“There is.” He paused, and my brow arched. “Let me make love to you.”

I shot up off the air bed so fast that the First Aid kit toppled to the floor. “And we’re back to that again? You don’t even know my name.”

“You’re a beautiful, compassionate woman who helped me even after learning what I am.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you.” The fact that he was so damn virile might, however.

“I wasn’t lying when I said sex would help heal me. It’s an instinctive drive for my kind when we’re injured.”

This was evident by the fact that his cock had revived and was throbbing against his waist. His sheer, masculine perfection, smeared and dirty as it was, resonated deep enough in my libido to make me want to act on his request, whether or not he was telling the truth. But a one-night stand with a werewolf?

I cleared a suddenly hoarse throat. “So I’m supposed to believe that a man in no shape to move, let alone fuck, will miraculously rally if I let him stick his dick in me? Just how gullible do I look?”

“You don’t look gullible. You look irresistible.”

His cock jerked as if nodding in agreement. His eyes were glowing bright again, and they raked over me seductively. I realized I still only had one button closed on my shirt, and I clutched the edges together. My heart was pounding like crazy, and not because I felt threatened that he might force the issue. I was afraid that I might actually go along with this.

Hi hand skimmed down over the taut, ridged muscles of his stomach to slide over his erection, and my heart nearly stopped. “Please, Shawna,” he murmured.

I gasped. “How do you know my name? Can you read minds, too?”

“It’s written on your bag.”

I glanced at the tag on my duffel and felt ridiculous.

Elijah pushed himself up with his good arm and scooted so he sat on the edge of the bed. “You will enjoy it. I promise.”

I had little doubt of that. Just looking at his sculpted body was enough to make my cunt spasm with need.

“You’re not going to eat me or turn me into a werewolf or anything, are you?” I asked, wondering if I was really about to fuck a total stranger who wasn’t even human.

He reached for my hand, and I let myself be pulled closer, in between his knees. “You might feel tired afterward, but you won’t become a werewolf. As for eating you—most definitely. But only to make you scream with pleasure.”

Those final words seized control of my body, sending tingles along my spine. Elijah used his good hand to release my lone button and part my shirt with reverence. My nipples tightened under his gaze. With a light, teasing touch, he ran his fingers over my stiff, throbbing nipples, pinching and tugging each until a warm gush of heat flooded between my legs. My hands threaded into his long hair while he kissed his way down past my navel, pressing his hot mouth against the front of my panties. My legs nearly gave out as his tongue laved against the silky fabric, sending my clit into a fierce throb. Even injured with one arm hanging limply at his side, Elijah proved himself more adept at bringing my body to life than any other man had managed while fully functioning.

After working his tongue along my panty-covered slit until I thought I might go insane, Elijah tugged the last bit of fabric down roughly, almost hard enough to tear the seams. My stomach jumped with anticipation as I stepped out of them, baring my pussy. Fuck, the things that man’s tongue did to me were inhuman, swirling over my clit and plunging deep into my soaking cunt until I could barely hold myself upright. Each pass with that tongue drove a louder cry from my throat until I was sure that all the surrounding woods knew exactly what was going on.

I wanted to come so bad that my cunt ached, but I wanted to do it with his monster cock jammed deep inside me. So when I edged too high near the abyss of pleasure, I pushed him away and bent over him.

“Get on your back, Wolf,” I said in my most demanding, sinister tone.

His eyes flashed bright yellow. “No. I will have your pleasure first.”

It was odd, the way his speech fluctuated back and forth from modern to archaic. “You’ll have it when I’m riding that hot cock. Do it, Elijah. I know you’re hurting. Let’s not delay that one fucking minute longer. I need you inside me. Now.”

Had his shoulder not been bandaged, I would have brutally shoved him down to prove the point. My urgency was a bit unsettling. I was no dead fish in bed, but this was way out of my norm. Sleeping with a werewolf might not change me into one, but I was definitely embracing my primal nature more than I had ever dared.

The smoldering smile he gave me in return ignited my insides, and he slowly, sensuously scooted back and lowered himself flat. I straddled his thighs like the bitch in heat that I was, gripping his firm meat in my palm and squeezing it until the head of his dick was shiny and purple. I was so damn wet that he slipped in readily, and the more I lowered myself over that cock, the more I realized that he was going to bottom out much deeper than I’d ever felt before. And it was unbelievably good.