White Wolf 2: The Call of a Soul (24 page)

“I’m positive I will.” She sighed, thought about Shuman, about his blinding rage at the end, and worry forced her to concentrate. “They aren’t our real tribe. Gramps moved us from our reservation, which was right outside Twisp, Washington, when Papa started drinking after he was injured. Because Gramps was who he was, the tribe couldn’t refuse us. But I always had the feeling they didn’t want us.”

“What’s that look for?” Mike tipped her chin up.

“Bad memories.”

“Tell me. Talking about bad times can be therapeutic. That much I’ve learned the hard way.”

“Your mother?”

“Yeah. It was only after she started therapy and talking about things that she returned to the real world. What happened after you moved here?”

“Gramps made Papa do a
Kaskitewâw Nîpîy
.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a purifying ritual to get rid of the poisons in the body. Gramps took Papa on a journey to the Black Waters and when they came back, Papa didn’t drink anymore. That was in the January we moved here.” Melanie toyed with the soft yet prickly hairs lining the hollow beneath his cheekbones.

“When did he start drinking again?” Mike kissed the tips of her fingers.

“I’ve searched and searched my memory and honestly, until the day of the accident, I had no clue that he was drinking again. Then my grandmother died on March nineteenth. Gramps fell apart. He honored her with a pilgrimage to the sacred grounds in the desert. Mama and Papa started quarreling every night. Papa kept vanishing for days at a time. I didn’t know what to do.”

“When was that?”

“A couple of weeks after Gramma died. Then the car accident happened. Mike, my father virtually killed yours. I can’t help but wonder if that will come between us. My mother—yours. How does someone forgive something like that?”

“We’ll figure it out day by day, moment by moment. I want things to work out with our families, Melanie, but I don’t need them. I need you.”

Melanie cradled his beautiful face. “I don’t want you to resent me.”

“Never. Finish your story.”

“Gramps came back two days after the accident. Papa and Gramps fought, and Papa kept insisting that he hadn’t been drinking. And then about six weeks later the tribe’s leader died. At the elder ceremony to choose the new chief, Gramps had a vision. He warned the tribe not to accept Shuman as leader. Shuman was furious. He called for us to be exiled from the tribe. Gramps challenged the banishment.”

“Your brother told me about your grandfather’s vision that Shuman’s son would turn to the black wolves. That your grandfather’s challenge was a takuskanka-otaktay, a fight to the death. Why would he do that? He must’ve known he wouldn’t survive.”

Melanie sat up. She shook her head. “I never knew it was a fight to the death. Neither Gramps nor Mama believed Papa about the not drinking after the police report. Mama fell apart. She couldn’t believe Papa had caused your father to become paralyzed. To die.”

Mike traced her eyebrow. “Did you know both your father and grandfather came to the hospital to see my dad?”

“No. I didn’t. I don’t understand. I heard Gramps telling Papa that he must have been drinking. It doesn’t make sense—why would Papa and Gramps go to the hospital together if Gramps thought him in the wrong? My Gramps was a black and white man. Either something was wrong or it was right. And he’d never support anyone in the wrong, even his own son.”

“I wonder if we’ll ever know all the answers.”

“How are we going to make all this work? So much pain all around.” The worrywart in Melanie refused to stand down.

“We take it one moment at a time.” He smoothed her frown. “What happened after Shuman was elected leader?”

“Shuman accepted Gramps’ challenge. They fought. Gramps died. Papa died. I thought I would go mad. But someone had to take charge. To keep everything together. I made sure there was dinner on the table, homework was done, and all the while Shuman tried to banish us.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I’m still not sure why we weren’t thrown out.”

“You are an amazing woman, Melanie Frances White.” Mike looked so solemn, so grim and determined. “You and I are going to be happy together. I promise you that.”

Melanie wished she could believe him. She’d already decided to settle for whatever time they had together before the situation exploded.

“You’re pruning. Let’s get dry and order in some food.”

“Sounds good to me. On one condition.” An imp surfaced as she spread her palms over his wonderful chest. “I get to dry every inch of you.”

“Deal. Just remember turnabout is fair play.”

They didn’t eat the country stew and French bread they ordered until well past midnight. Dressed in Mike’s shirt, sitting on his lap in front of the magnificent blazing fire he’d built, they took turns feeding each other. She told him what her mother’d shared with her earlier, and he was quiet for some time. Melanie kissed his cheek, and his inattention went poof.

He trained his sultry gaze on her. “What, woman mine?”

“How did you manage? After leaving here? You were so young, and you had Drake and no place to live.” Melanie dipped a crusty slice into the stew and thumbed a big chunk of beef into the middle. “This one’s yours.”

Mike chewed his food before answering. “Virgil. He fronted us rent for the first six months. Hooked me up with a buddy at a casino that wasn’t chain owned.”

“That’s when you started playing poker?” She grinned when he left a couple of flakes of bread on his lips and quirked a brow in invitation. “It’s amazing how much expression you can put into those eyebrows.”

“You like my eyebrows?” His one-sided smirk had a direct connection to her vaginal walls.

She kissed the curve of one charcoal brow. “You know I do. You made a lot of money playing poker.”

“Means to an end. I needed to support us, put Drake through college, and get Mom into a better place.”

“You said poker was a means to an end. Is there something else you want to do?”

“When I started trying to find our maternal grandfather, I discovered that I enjoyed the investigative aspect of it. I’ve done a few missing persons cases for friends and been toying with the idea of making it into a business.”

“A detective, huh?” Melanie winked at him, retrieved another piece of bread, loaded it and popped it into his mouth. “Sexy. I go could for a detective mate.”

“Well then.” He stopped talking when she licked his mouth clean. “How you do that like a dainty tiger, I don’t know.”

“Is that why you bought the Laroque building?”

“Nope.”

She smacked his shoulder and wrinkled her nose. “What’re you planning to do with it then?”

A muscle under his left eye twitched. “The mill fire killed nine good people, wrecked their families, and hurt Chabegawn economically. Drake and I decided a long time back we wanted to atone for what Boyd had done. Something sustainable. A while ago, we came up with a plan to do that. This area’s known for its wildlife and fishing. We’ve been buying up land over the last three years, and we’ve got enough to build an eco-resort, which will specialize in corporate and sport retreats. The Laroque building will be the retreat’s headquarters. Hopefully we can come to some sort of agreement with the tribe regarding gaming nights. A win-win for the town, the tribe, and the resort.”

Did she love this man or what? Melanie had to swallow a couple of times to control the wave of emotions threatening happy tears. The practical side of her forced her to blurt, “Then the damned building needs to be renamed.”

His raucous hoot made her plop the slice of bread she’d just picked up into the stew.

“How about the Melanie Frances White building?” His daredevil grin was back in full force, and he had that surprised, happy look that made him ten years younger.

“Don’t even say that aloud again.” She smacked his shoulder again, and that brought back what they’d been speaking of earlier. “So Virgil fronted you money and you started playing poker, but you didn’t win your first tournament until three years ago. What happened in between?”

“I came into my wolf, and that’s when I decided to train myself. To figure out what I can do with the wolf side of me.”

“What do you mean, train yourself?”

“We were at a small casino in the desert. Fairly isolated. I would run at nights. Test my night vision. Track different animals. I don’t have an appetite for raw meat like some wolves I’ve heard about. I can’t shift, but well, you’ve seen how I run.”

“That was amazing. So powerful. So smooth.” Even in the shadowed room, she could make out the twin stains ridging his cheekbones. “Why, Mike Dorland, you’re blushing.”

He crossed his eyes.

She laughed. “What was that for?”

“I’ve never talked about my wolf side with anyone but Drake. It feels good, but does it turn you off?”

“It turns me on big-time, my macho wolf.”

“It does? How?”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t give me that innocent look. You just want your ego stroked.”

But he didn’t immediately flash her his bad-boy grin. Did he really not realize how much sex appeal he oozed? She spread her palms over his heated and taut chest and looked right at him.

“It’s amazing that you don’t wear aftershave, because you reek of sex. I’ve decided it must be your wolf scent. I call it Mike’s I-promise-to-give-you-screaming-orgasms smell.”

A flush stained the hollows beneath his cheekbones, and his lips curled. “Screaming orgasms, hmm, I like that one. Tell me more.”

“No way. I’m going to show you more.” She gave him a little push. “Lie down.”

When he complied with her order, she straddled his waist. All of a sudden, a gush of shyness had her stymied, but she hooded her eyes and trailed a finger up the middle of his chest. “Your hair’s so soft when you’re not aroused, which happens for like only maybe three minutes after you climax.”

“Is that a complaint?” His wicked-sexy grin was back in full force.

“Never. All I have to do is touch you and the hair on your chest coarsens. You’ve no idea what that feels like on my nipples when you’re sliding in and out of me.” She played with the light coating of hair arrowing up from his groin. His cock poked insistently at her bottom, she grinned, met his gaze, and shifted off him to his side. “See what I mean. There you are in full glory.”

“Hell, Melanie, you’re killing me.” He reached for her, and she slapped away his hands.

“Uh-uh. You wanted to know and you’ll have to listen.”

“Remember what I told you before. Turnabout is fair play.”

Melanie giggled when he did his eyebrow leer. “Seriously I love that your wolf can’t get enough of me, because I can’t get enough of you either. After that first time when I thought it would be the only one, I so regretted not touching you. Not doing this.”

Rolling onto her side, she settled on one forearm and rested an ear on her palm before tracing the outline of his rampant arousal.

“I’m not going to last long, babe. So whatever you want to do, do it fast.” The scratchiness in his voice did wonderful things to her pussy.

She twisted onto her knees and went straight for the target, curled her hands around his erection. “It’s so hot. And throbbing. Like a rod forged to glowing red.”

“Fuck.” His breathing quickened, and a film of perspiration covered the steel-ridged six-pack of his stomach.

“God, you smell of screaming orgasms. Or maybe I should say howling orgasms.” She shot him a smirk, dipped her head, and swiped her tongue over the swollen and engorged, reddened crown. Salt-musk richness flooded her mouth. Chocolate would never do it for her again. She slipped her lips around the enormous head, going slowly to savor each flavor, and firmed her hands around the base, pulling his foreskin taut. She sucked and licked at the same time, relishing the thin line that led to the apex of his cock. His spiciness zinged to her nose, and she gave him one last lingering twirl before turning her attention to the length of him.

“I can see the blood pulsing right here.” She set her lips to the blue-green vein beneath his flesh and followed the path to the underside of his crown.

“Warned you,” he growled, hauled her up, rolled them over, and elbowed her legs wide. His hand cupped her mound. He slipped a fat, delicious finger inside and muttered, “Thank you, God. Wet and ready.”

His shoulders hooked her knees; he threw his head back and drove into her core. Melanie shuddered at the impossible impact. The rapid penetration had her walls fisting and contracting to accommodate his thickness. The head of his cock hit a smattering of nerves, and the climax bulleted through her. She dug her nails into his slickened back and let the physical release pulse around his fierce piston thrusts, not realizing until long after that the piercing screams filling the cabin came from her own throat.

Chapter Fourteen

Drake couldn’t abide closed-in spaces and always slept with a window open, so Mike circled the other cabin until he found the culprit, and then climbed into Drake’s room at the crack of dawn.

He’d left a note for Melanie, who slept so soundly she never even budged or reacted when he kissed her forehead. But then again, he’d kept her up almost all night. Not that she’d objected. His mate had a sexual appetite to match his and then some. But Mike had noticed the change in her scent about halfway through their third session. The first long, lingering, slow loving he’d managed. Melanie would be in full heat soon. His cock hadn’t gone flaccid for more than ten minutes after he inhaled the first signs of her fertility.

Mike shook his wet hair. He’d taken a cold shower before leaving her, and it hadn’t dampened his ardor one bit. He nudged Drake’s heel with his boot and stepped back.

Drake awoke the way he always did. He leaped out of bed, fists primed and legs in fight-ready stance.

“You really need to try to wake up like a normal person.”

“It’s still fucking night. And what the hell are you doing here?” Drake pushed his hair back from his face.

Mike cut a silence gesture across his neck and then whispered, “Don’t wake the women.”

He pointed at the forest bordering the resort’s perimeter. “My future brother-in-law was out on the prowl last night. He’s waiting for us in the woods.”