Seducing the Wolf (34 page)

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Authors: Maureen Smith

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica

BOOK: Seducing the Wolf
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Magnum shuddered with revulsion. As he grabbed his glass of wine and took several gulps, everyone burst out laughing.

“A big, tough firefighter who gets queasy at the thought of eating snails.” Maddox
tsk-tsked
. “Makes no damn sense.”

Magnum scowled, which earned him more ribbing from the rest of his brothers. Stan and Prissy just grinned and shook their heads.

Taking pity on Magnum, Taylor decided to change the subject. “So,” she announced conversationally, “I saw the billboard downtown.”

This set off another round of laughter mingled with groans.

“Let me be the first to say I was opposed to the whole idea,” Maddox piped up.

“We all were,” Magnum added.

“Not all of us,” Manning corrected.

Taylor grinned, looking around the table. “Who wasn’t opposed to it?”

All eyes went to Mason, who grinned sheepishly.

Taylor laughed. “I should have known. You looked like you were having
way
too much fun in that picture, Mason.”

“Oh, he was,” Montana confirmed. “During the photo shoot, he wouldn’t stop flirting with the photographer. Had the sista all hot and bothered, stuttering and fumbling with her camera. It was ridiculous.”

As the others chuckled in agreement, Mason grinned unabashedly. “What can I say? I’ve got a serious weakness for beautiful chocolate women.” He winked at Taylor.

“Watch it, Pipsqueak,” Manning warned.

Everyone laughed.

“All joking aside,” Prissy said with a warm smile, “we were truly honored to be recognized by the mayor and given the keys to this city that we all love so dearly. But unlike my husband and his brother—who both had to be dragged to the photo shoot—
I
didn’t have a problem with the billboard.” Her eyes glimmered. “What better way to advertise my handsome sons and nephews to potential wives?”

The fellas reacted with amused groans, which made Prissy smile.

“Now that Marcus is off the market, I’ve only got six to go.” She serenely contemplated her glass of wine. “Maybe that number will be down to five soon enough.”

Taylor’s face heated as the others glanced meaningfully at her and Manning, who reached under the table and captured her hand.

Prissy looked at Taylor, her eyes twinkling. “Do you have any plans for the Fourth of July?”

“Um, not that I know of.”

“Good. That means you can come to our annual cookout at Sterling’s house. We dance, play games and stuff our faces until it’s time to watch the fireworks at Stone Mountain Park, which we can see from Sterling’s backyard.”

Taylor smiled. “It sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it is. We always have a blast. And Mama Wolf will be there, and you know she’d love to see you. So what do you say, baby?”

How could Taylor refuse such an invitation?

“I’d love to come to the cookout.”

Prissy beamed with delight. “Wonderful.”

When Manning laced his fingers through Taylor’s, she smiled shyly at him.

Dinner was a festive affair filled with laughter and teasing and lively conversations that flowed from one topic to another. Taylor answered questions about her music, her travels and her life in Paris, deliberately leaving out any mention of Aidan. She eagerly interrogated Maddox about his books, warning him not to reveal spoilers from his latest bestseller because she hadn’t started it yet. When the discussion turned to sports and the Atlanta Falcons, Mason shared his hopes and expectations for the next season, and told Taylor she’d have to come back to attend one of his games.

Sitting at that table, it was hard for Taylor to think of leaving Atlanta.

Leaving this beloved family.

Leaving Manning.

God…

“It’s so good to have another woman at the dinner table,” Prissy remarked as if she’d read Taylor’s mind. She sighed contentedly. “I could get very used to this.”

“So could I,” Manning murmured.

Taylor met his gaze, then blushed.

“Is everybody ready for dessert?” Prissy grinned as a chorus of enthusiastic
yeses
went around the table. “Coming right up. No, stay put,” she said when Taylor offered to help. “I’ll be right back.”

As Prissy left the room, Taylor didn’t miss the way her husband stared after her with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. It amused and fascinated Taylor to see that even after forty years of marriage, Stan Wolf still ogled his wife’s ass.

“Play a song with me after dinner.”

Taylor turned to look at Montana, who had leaned close to speak to her. She found herself staring at the lower half of his face. Though he and his brothers were practically clones of their father, Montana was the only one who’d inherited their mother’s dimpled chin. But there was nothing cute or adorable about Monty’s dimple. It was downright masculine, and sexy as all hell.

“Do you have your sax?” Taylor asked him.

“Just need to get it from my car. I came straight here from my last gig.” He smiled, bumping his broad shoulder against hers. “So how about a duet for old times’ sake?”

Taylor smiled. “I would be honored to play with you.”

He winked at her.

Prissy returned with a triple-layer chocolate cake that everyone oohed and aahed over.

After the decadent dessert had been devoured, everyone pitched in to help clear the table. Prissy had taught her sons from an early age that domestic chores weren’t just a woman’s responsibility, and her lessons had stuck with them. It also helped that they’d grown up watching their father tackle housework with the same pride he and his fellow firefighters had demonstrated when cleaning the fire stations they were assigned to.

Once all the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher and the kitchen was restored to order, everyone headed to the living room. The elegantly furnished room featured rich crown molding, gilt-framed oil paintings, a dramatic marble fireplace and an ebony baby grand piano that glistened beneath the lights.

Following Montana to the Steinway, Taylor slid onto the bench and brushed her fingers over the smooth keys. The violin would always be her first love, but she had nothing but reverence for the lyrical poetry produced by a piano.

Once everyone was comfortably settled, Montana took center stage and exaggeratedly cleared his throat, drawing snickers from his brothers.

“Thank you all for coming to this impromptu performance at Casa Wolf,” he announced in the deep, velvety tones of a suave showman. “This evening I will be accompanied by the lovely and talented Miss Taylor Chastain—”

Mason gave a long wolf whistle. When Taylor blew him a kiss that Manning pretended to intercept, everyone laughed.

“What’re you two going to play for us?” Prissy inquired.

“ ‘Summertime’ by the great George Gershwin,” Montana responded.

“Awww. Just like old times,” Prissy crooned, laying her head on Stan’s shoulder. “I’m getting nostalgic already.”

Taylor and Montana grinned at each other.

When he gave the cue, she began playing, watching her fingers glide across the keys as the opening bars of the melody filled the room.

Montana winked at her, then brought his sax to his mouth. The bluesy notes that poured from his instrument blended harmoniously with the piano chords.

As Taylor got into the piece, she glanced around the room, enjoying the rapt expressions on everyone’s faces as they listened to the music. But it was Manning’s reaction that ensnared her. He was leaning forward in his chair, watching her with an intensity that made heat coalesce between her thighs. She had to look away from him before she messed up on the keys.

Though she played the piano well, it was the soulful wail of Montana’s sax that made the song absolutely mesmerizing.

At the end of their duet, the room erupted in hearty applause.

As Taylor rose gracefully from the bench, Montana gallantly took her hand and brought her around to his side. As his family whistled and cheered for them, she gave a curtsy and he bowed, then grinned at her.

“We should do a collaboration together,” he said.

“I was gonna say the same thing,” Taylor enthused.

“What’s your schedule like?”

“Well, I go back on tour for a few months starting in October. I haven’t finalized next year’s concert schedule because I’ll be working on my next album, so—”

“You guys make beautiful music,” Manning interrupted, joining them.

Taylor smiled at him. “Did you enjoy our little performance?”

“I did.” He curved an arm around her waist, a subtly possessive gesture. “But as much as I’ve always enjoyed your duets, I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little jealous of how well you two play together.”

Taylor guffawed. “Why would you—”

“If you’re jealous now,” Montana interjected, his dark eyes glinting with mischief, “wait until we start recording and touring together.”

Manning’s brows knitted. “What’re you talking about?”

Montana grinned. “Taylor just agreed to do an album with me. So that means we’ll be spending a lot of time together. First in the studio”— he slid an arm around Taylor’s shoulders —“and then on the road.”

Manning’s eyes narrowed with lethal menace. “You got three seconds to step away from her before I wrap that damn saxophone around your neck.”

Montana threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Clenching his jaw, Manning grabbed Taylor’s hand and led her away from his brother. “I can’t let you out of my sight anymore,” he muttered darkly.

Taylor grinned. “Why not?”

“Too many damn wolves on the prowl.”

 

 

They hung out with the family until ten-thirty. Since it was a weeknight, everyone had to be up early, whether it was for work or another commitment.

Stan and Prissy walked everyone outside, then stood on the porch with their arms around each other, smiling and waving as they watched their children depart.

Manning took Taylor to Piedmont Park, where they went for a long romantic walk under the stars. With her hand tucked through his arm and her head resting on his shoulder, they strolled along in contented silence, their pace unhurried.

After a while, Manning glanced down at Taylor and asked gently, “You sure you’re okay doing all this walking in those heels?”

“I’m sure.” She grinned. “The first thing any respectable Parisienne learns is how to wear stilettos on cobblestone streets. Everything else is a cakewalk. Besides,” she added teasingly, “you’re a foot taller than me. Wearing heels gives me some leverage.”

Manning chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

She snuggled closer to him, gazing up at the glittering Midtown skyline. “What a great view,” she said with a sigh.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Manning said warmly. “I used to fantasize about having you here with me. I wanted to show you around Atlanta, take you to my old neighborhood and all the other places I used to tell you about when we were younger. Your being here is like a dream come true.”

“It feels like a dream come true,” Taylor whispered.

Manning stopped walking and turned to face her. As they stared at each other in the moonlight, he said softly, “I like you, Taylor.”

She instantly melted, recognizing the words he’d spoken shyly to her when he’d asked her to go out with him all those years ago. The sweet memory sent pleasure curling through her veins like sun-warmed honey.

A winsome smile curved her lips as she recited her response to him: “I like you too, Manning.”

His dark eyes twinkled. “No, I mean. I like you,
like
you.”

Taylor laughed softly, her eyes misting with tears. She felt the same tender yearning she’d felt that day, the yearning of a young girl in love for the very first time.

“I meant the same thing,” she whispered.

Manning gazed at her for a long moment, then gently cupped her face between his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. She sighed, closing her eyes as she melted into him.

Though their romance had blossomed out of youthful innocence, there was nothing sweet or shy about the way Manning kissed her now, his tongue tracing the fullness of her lips before sliding between them to lick the roof of her mouth. She shivered, her pulse pounding as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

His tongue swirled around hers in a seductive dance that hardened her nipples and fired her blood. She curled her fingers into the back of his shirt, clenching the fine fabric as he deepened the kiss. He was consuming her, possessing her with a sensual hunger that was heady and intoxicating.

Her clit tingled and throbbed as he licked her bottom lip, then tugged it between his teeth and sucked on it. She moaned into his mouth, swaying slowly on her feet. He whispered her name as his hands moved down her back to cup her bottom, bringing her flush against his bulging erection.

A throaty groan escaped her, and a hot flood of juices wet the crotch of her panties.

By the time Manning lifted his head, her senses were reeling and her legs were so wobbly she feared she’d go down in her heels.

His eyes glittered fiercely. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

Taylor nodded, and he grabbed her hand and began leading her toward the car. When he saw that she was struggling to keep up with his determined stride, he bent and effortlessly swept her up into his arms, startling a laugh out of her as he carried her the rest of the way.

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