My Sister Is a Werewolf (4 page)

“Hey there, what’s a pretty lady like you doing sitting by herself?”

Elizabeth flicked a quick look at the man who braced his arms on the table, leaning toward her. Then she returned her gaze to the other man. The man with the eyes like the deepest forest.

But in that glance, she had made note of the man next to her. He was average height, muscular, good-looking in a rough sort of way. His blond hair was shaggy. His jeans were a little greasy on the thighs, like he’d been working on a vehicle of some kind and had used the denim as a wipe rag. The same engine grease lined his fingernails.

“Can I buy you a drink?” the shaggy blonde asked.

“No,” she heard herself say, not looking at him. She had to watch the one with the eyes, the forest eyes. She had to study each of his moves. Tracking her prey.

“Come on, one drink won’t hurt. I’m as harmless as a lamb.”

Elizabeth tore her gaze from the man she wanted, meeting the blonde’s eyes directly.

“But I’m not,” she stated, her voice little more than a low growl.

Instead of being turned off by her warning, the blonde’s interest heightened, his attraction filling the air like the musk of an animal. He wanted her. He wanted sex.

“Well, that’s how I like my women. Dangerous.” He grinned, and more arousal radiated from him.

Go with him. Take him back to his place, screw his brains out, and get yourself under control. One human male will serve your purpose as well as another.

No, not just any man would do. Only one.

“Go away,” she stated flatly, looking back to the man at the other table, although she was irritated to see her view was blocked by his returned friends. No matter, she could still keep an eye him.

“Come on—”

“Go now,” she snarled, and maybe this time there was just enough crazy in her eyes, because the shaggy blonde backed away. Then he shrugged, trying to look as if he couldn’t care less that she’d rejected him. He strolled back to his friends, a table of men who all watched her with interested eyes.

She registered their attention, then moved hers back to her target. She shifted so she could see that he was taking occasional sips of a drink, listening to his friends, but talking very little himself. And he was making a concerted effort not to look at her.

Pointless.
She’d have his full attention before the end of the night.

He leaned toward the pretty blonde at his side, trying to hear something she said over the off-key croon of yet another karaoke singer. The woman touched his arm as she spoke.

A shard of possessiveness ripped through her. He was
her
man. At least for tonight.

That could be his girlfriend, his wife, her reasonable mind murmured, the notion barely registering through her need.

So. She just wanted the use of his body. Then the blonde could have him back.

“I heard you weren’t interested in my buddy.”

A growl built in the back of her throat at yet another interruption, but some tenuous hold on her human side made her restrain the noise. Still, her only thought was that she couldn’t lose sight of her prey. She didn’t even glance at the new speaker. All her senses were locked on the man at the table in front of her.

“Maybe I’m more your type.”

She fought back another irritated growl, but this time she did turn to the man standing very close to her.

This guy was taller than the last, more muscled, a goatee and an arrogant twist to his lips. His hair was equally as shaggy as the blonde’s, but a shade darker, somewhere between blond and brown.

She let her gaze move slowly down his body. Thickly muscled arms, a broad, equally muscled chest. A noticeable bulge was outlined by his faded jeans.

“No, you’re not my type,” she stated, her voice low and husky with need, but not for this mortal.

Then she sensed
her
man moving.

She whipped her eyes back to him just as he rose from his chair. Tall, lean muscles moving under his blue button-down shirt, long legs encased in worn jeans carrying him smoothly across the bar. She started to rise, too. She had to follow him. But the man at her side touched her arm.

She sneered at him, registering him as little more than an annoyance, then she made to follow the other man, noting that he headed to the men’s room rather than the exit.

“Now, you are hardly giving me a fair shot here,” the man beside her said, catching her wrist in a large hand.

She spun back to him, this time not containing the growl that rumbled from deep in her throat. The man’s eyes widened slightly at the sound, but still he didn’t release her.

“Let me go,” she warned, intense rage filling her. This was her chance. She had to go after her man. She couldn’t allow anything to come between herself and her choice.

But instead of dropping her wrist, the man tugged her toward him. Her body hit his, her chest brought fully against his massive one. The contact enraged her more, all her instincts growling,
fight
. And she obeyed. She shoved him hard, barely controlling the strength of her overstimulated body.

The large man launched through the air, crashing down on a tabletop. The man and the table crumpled to the ground, the noise causing everyone at the bar to turn in her direction. The music, lyric-less and oddly discordant, did nothing to fill the sudden silence of the room. All eyes were on the man—then on her. Even the latest karaoke singer just gaped, his hand on the mic.

Elizabeth looked around her, then back to the man, who struggled to his feet. She backed away, stunned by what she’d done—or rather, what the wolf had done.

God, she was losing it. She was totally out of control. She had to leave now, while her rational mind had taken a brief hold on her thoughts.

“Elizabeth,” Christian said, appearing at her elbow. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and steady, as if he knew he was talking to someone who was more animal than human.

Shame filled her. What did her brother think of her now? There was no disguising that she was not the Elizabeth he remembered. Not now.

She didn’t meet his eyes as she nodded.

“Is
she
okay?” the man she’d just shoved demanded. “She’s the one who attacked
me
.” He jabbed an angry finger in her direction. “Crazy bitch.”

She opened her mouth to apologize, but only a low, angry growl escaped her throat. Christian stepped between them.

“Then maybe you should take your hands off a lady when she asks,” her brother said, his voice still even but leaving no room for argument.

The man glared at them both, then called to his friends, loudly announcing what he thought of this establishment and its owners.

Once he and his buddies left, Jolee came on the microphone announcing that the still-gaping man at the mic was going to start his song again.

As soon as the music restarted, the bar patrons settled back into normalcy, most of them continuing their socializing, only a little more subdued than before.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Christian asked again.

“I’m okay,” she assured him, even as she felt the wolf rising in her again. She had to get out of here. “I’m just going to go.”

Christian looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he nodded. “Be careful.” Then he smiled. “Although I think you are pretty capable of taking care of yourself.”

She thought she might have seen pride in his eyes, but she was too embarrassed and too afraid to be sure.

She mumbled her farewell and rushed to the door. She needed to go back to her house, away from people. She was dangerous. She’d never acted like this. Never. Something was very, very wrong.

Rain now fell in a steady drizzle as she stepped out into the parking lot. She put distance between herself and the bar, stopping in the shadows among the parked cars to gather herself.

Raising her face toward the sky, she prayed for the cold rain to dampen down some of the heat inside her. Heat from embarrassment and from the desire still swirling inside her, unsatisfied and growing.

She had no idea how long she’d been standing there when she heard the bar door open and the crunch of footsteps on wet gravel. Her body tensed. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who was coming in her direction. She could smell him. Woodsy, clean, and so, so tempting.

She opened her eyes to see her man, walking right toward her, his tall, strong body silhouetted against the lights of the bar. And just like that, the wolf was back and in full control.

She stepped out of the shadows in front of him.

“Hi there,” her voice was low, husky, and full of hunger.

“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in giving me a ride.”

Chapter 4

J
ensen came to a halt as the figure appeared from between two parked cars, directly in front of him. It took him only a fraction of a second to recognize who the tall, slender form was. The watcher. She’d seemed to materialize out of the darkness, appearing now as quickly as she’d disappeared.

He’d noticed that she was gone as soon as he’d come out of the rest room, making an escape of his own. He’d assumed she’d left with the rough-looking giant, whom he’d noticed talking to her. He’d felt oddly disappointed, even as he told himself she, with her leather jacket and pants, appeared well-suited to the dangerous-looking man. And it wasn’t as if Jensen was going to talk to her himself.

Or so he’d thought.

And now she was asking him for a ride. And he got the feeling she was talking about a ride that wouldn’t necessarily get her safely home. Again, his muscles reacted, tensing with need.

Stop
, he ordered his rebellious libido that had suddenly chosen tonight to decide it had been long neglected.

“Are you having a problem with your car?” he asked, managing to sound far more relaxed than he felt.

“No,” she said, taking a step toward him. The movement brought her into the light.

His eyes started to move down her trim body, but he stopped himself. “Did your ride leave you?”

“No,” she said again, then smiled. His pulse reacted instantly to the wide curve of her lips—his muscles vibrated with desire. She was definitely a beautiful woman.

You’re not interested,
he reminded himself. Despite what his body might think. And it thought being alone in a vehicle with her was a freaking fantastic idea. Still, he ignored his body’s enthusiasm.

“So, if you aren’t having car problems, and your ride hasn’t left you, then I’m not sure why you need a ride from me.”

Her smile turned indulgent as if she knew that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being alone with her.

“I have my motorcycle,” she said, tilting her head toward a silver-and-black bike parked against the bar. “Not a good night for driving on these twisty roads.”

She held out her hands, palms up, as if to display the rain falling on them. “At least not on two wheels.”

Jensen couldn’t argue with that, but reluctance still kept him motionless. He couldn’t be alone with this woman.

“But I guess if you aren’t interested in helping a lady in distress... ” Her words trailed off, and she started toward the bike. A bike that looked too big for her to handle on a dry, straight road, much less a rain-slicked, winding one.

Shit. He couldn’t have her on his conscience, too.

“My truck is this way,” he said, walking away from her, not waiting, not looking. Like that would stop his body from reacting to her.

Just give her a ride, then go home. No big deal.

He heard her boots on the gravel, then she was beside him. Though she was at least a couple of feet away, he swore he could feel the heat radiating off of her body.

This was not good, he told himself. His body sizzled merrily in her heat, not listening.

She didn’t speak until they reached the truck; he unlocked her side first and opened the door, making sure he made no contact with her.

“Gallant,” she murmured with another smile as she slid up onto the bench seat.

He laughed wryly. “I don’t know about that.” Not with the way he was feeling at the moment.

He crossed to the driver’s side, unlocked the door, and joined her in the dark vehicle. He didn’t glance at her as he slid the key into the ignition.

“I wouldn’t want you to be too gallant, though,” she said, her husky voice brushing over him. The desire crackling through his limbs flared.

He shot her a quick look, then shifted the truck into Drive. When they reached the road, he braked. “Which way to your house?”

“Right,” she said, pointing in the correct direction, her eyes never leaving him.

He nodded, trying to concentrate on driving, which was no easy task. He could feel her eyes locked on him, studying him.

“I guess I should introduce myself,” he said after a moment, the uneasy silence making him more aware of her gaze. “I’m Jensen.”

She smiled. “Hi, Jensen.” She didn’t offer her name.

Again silence filled the vehicle, the only sound the whir of the tires, and the rhythmic swish of the wipes. Yet, his senses were overwhelmed. He could feel her just a few inches away, smell her, realizing the spicy, rich scent he’d smelled in the bar had been her—although that didn’t seem possible.

“You can turn here,” she said, her voice almost startling him. She pointed to a narrow dirt road that he wouldn’t have even noticed if she hadn’t gestured toward it.

Slowing, he made the sharp turn, and the truck was quickly encompassed by gray, nearly bare maples and oaks and thick evergreens.

“You can stop here,” she said after they had driven only a few hundred feet.

“Here?” He glanced around, seeing no sign of lights in the thick woods, no sign of a house. But he braked as she asked. He put the truck into Park, then turned to look at her. As seemed to be her way, she regarded him with those spookily pale eyes, saying nothing.

“Where is your house?”

“Close,” she answered. Then she reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips over his lips, a gentle, whispering touch. His breath caught, his muscles contracting into painful alertness.

“You have a beautiful mouth. I can’t take my eyes off it.”

He pulled in a shallow breath. Shocks of violent need burned through him as her finger continued to trace the sensitive skin of his lips.

“You saw me watching you.” Her words were a statement, but he felt the need to respond.

“Yes.”

“You liked it.” Her fingers grazed his cheek, his jaw, the side of his neck.

He thought to deny it, to put a stop to this right now. But the words wouldn’t come.

“I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” she murmured, her voice low, husky. And so sexy.

He’d wanted her, too—he couldn’t refute it. He looked into her pale eyes, a blue so light they were the color of the moonstones. Her dark hair swirled around her face, adding to the feminine beauty of her features. High cheekbones, a pointed chin. And her lips. So pink and wide that they should have overpowered her delicate features. Instead they looked unbearably sexy, utterly kissable.

Before he realized what he intended to do, his mouth was on hers, tasting her with a greed he couldn’t restrain. She responded in kind, her mouth opening to let him in, their tongues tangling. The kiss grew into a frenzy. He wanted to devour her, each brush of their lips, each sweep of their tongues firing his need more, until he couldn’t remember wanting anything more than this woman.

Catching her under the arms, he pulled her closer. She sank willingly against him, her hands stroking his face, his chest. Wildly, they consumed each other.

She moaned, her lips leaving his to move hungrily over his throat, across his collarbone. Her fingers moved deftly on the buttons of his shirt until the fabric was undone and parted. Then she pressed open-mouthed kisses over his chest, her tongue flicking over his ignited skin, her teeth nipping.

He sucked in a sharp breath as she caught his nipple, worrying it gently. Desire needled through him, the sensation bordering on pain, like blood returning to a sleeping limb. Not an inaccurate analogy, really.

She pulled back, her eyes hooded but just as intense as earlier. “I want to fuck you.”

He wouldn’t have thought he could be any more turned on, but he was wrong. Her raw demand, said in that soft, almost purring voice, was the most erotic thing he could remember ever hearing. His cock pulsed and hardened further.

As he watched her, she sat back and slipped her leather jacket off to reveal the black camisole underneath. He could see, even in the faint light, she wore no bra under the tiny shirt. She didn’t need one—her small breasts were perfectly rounded, tipped with hard little nipples.

Then her fingers moved to the button of her leather pants. She undid them. A few wiggles of her hips and they were down, exposing tiny black panties. She kicked them off along with her boots. Then she was watching him again with those peculiar eyes.

His fingers itched to touch her, but instead he said, “This is crazy.”

She reached out and caressed him again, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. Soothing him, encouraging him. He caught her hand and pulled her back against him, kissing her. She caught the back of his head, tasting him with greedy demand.

“Do you want to be inside me?” she murmured against his lips.

God, yes.
He wanted that so badly that his whole body ached with it. Shards of biting need scored through him.

But instead of saying so, he stared into her eyes. “What do you want?”

She stilled, for the briefest moment something like uncertainty filling the pale depths. For the first time since seeing her, she broke their gaze before he did. She hesitated, and again he thought he should stop this. It was too fast, too out of control.

Then her hands moved to his jeans and worked the button open. Slowly she pulled down the zipper. She slid her fingers inside the worn material, cupping the granite hardness there.

He groaned, fighting the need to thrust himself against her palm. She smiled, a pleased, naughty smile as if she sensed his struggle. He groaned again. God, she was sexy.

“Lift your hips,” she whispered, that husky voice of hers a low vibration throughout the dashboard-lit vehicle.

He did as she asked, and she worked his jeans and boxers down until his erection bobbed free.

She smiled up at him, a wide, wolfish grin. “Very, very nice.”

Then she leaned forward and lapped him, her tongue a hot, velvety rasp up the length of his penis.

Shit! He was going to explode right here. Damn, he wanted this woman.

In one move, he lifted her slender body, sliding so he was on her side of the vehicle with her knees on either side of his hips.

She gasped at the sudden shift, but he didn’t give her time for further response. His lips caught hers, licking their softness, nipping at her velvet skin. As he continued to assault her mouth, his fingers slipped into her panties, finding the steamy moisture there. She was so wet, so hot, for a moment, his control nearly fractured. But he focused, finding her tiny clitoris, stroking her.

Her lips left his, her head falling back. Soft, growling moans escaped her, the sound spurring on his own desire. She ground against his hand, her sex growing slicker, hotter.

“Come for me,” he growled, loving the feeling of holding her ecstasy in the palm of his hand, loving the noises she made.

She raised her head, her face mostly in shadow, her eyes somehow bright, twin moons, hypnotic, breathtaking. “Not without you.”

She leaned forward, catching his lips. He took her shuddering whimpers into his mouth as she moved his hand from between her thighs and rubbed her soaked sex against his erection. At the first slide, all control dashed away.

He ripped the fragile lace from between her thighs, and braced his hands on her hips and positioned her over his throbbing erection.

In one thrust, he was deep inside her, filling her to the hilt. Her wet heat gloved him, searing hot and incredibly tight. He groaned, his head falling back against the seat. He didn’t move, letting her get used to him buried inside her, letting himself gain a little restraint.

But she didn’t allow him that respite. She tilted her pelvis, moving up and down in full strokes. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she pumped, picking up speed, her movements becoming a little awkward with her need.

He caught her hips, guiding her, bringing her down onto him hard and tight, then lifting her until the head of his penis was just at her threshold. Small moans escaped her lips each time he pulled her down his length. The sound excited him, encouraging him to jerk her down harder, filling her deeper. She cried out, bucking her hips, taking him as deeply as she could.

Their movements grew wilder, more frantic. He rammed into her, his hips rising off the seat. She arched back, grinding her pelvis against him. Her hand left his shoulder, slapping onto the glass of the steamed windows, while the other moved behind her to use the dashboard as leverage. She impaled herself over and over, until he thought his whole body would implode.

Just when he was certain he couldn’t hold off any longer, she cried out her violent release, the sound somewhere between a growl and a whimper. Her muscles clamped around him in hundreds of shuddering spasms, milking him.

Unable to stop it, his muscles tensed and his climax joined hers, fierce, body-shaking as her heat still held him, stroking him with tiny contractions.

Utterly dazed and drained, his head fell back against the seat, his hands still holding her hips loosely. After a few moments, he noticed she still remained upright, their bodies not touching except for where she sat on him.

He managed to crack an eye, fully expecting her to be watching him again. She wasn’t. She leaned back against the dash, apparently as spent as he was. The angle jutted her chest forward, her narrow back twisted at an odd angle, cold plastic grinding into her spine.