Wolf Bitten (3 page)

He watched her move toward him with deliberate movements. She'd learned to be careful around the werewolf, and he was thankful she'd lived with his PACk—before she ran. He focused on her and allowed her innocence and seductive curves to ease him from his battle rage. His thoughts cleared, no longer fuddled by the red haze.

Gloriously full breasts rose and fell with the anxiety she tried to suppress, but he could sense her blood race, hear the beat of her heart, and smell the nervous sheen of sweat with the slight tang of fear. Her thin, tight waist peeked through where her shirt wasn't closed all the way. Smudged with dirt and stinking of gas, the misbuttoned denim top lay rumpled against her. He wanted to soap her body to rid her of the abominable smell as badly as he wanted to shove his nose into her cunt again.

So young, her flushed face was unlined. Her lips, full and lush, trembled. When she licked them, he whimpered. His tongue lolled, drool flooded his mouth and dripped to the floor. She neared him. Forever a part of his being, her scent imprinted on him. Her crotch tempted him to jump her, even though she'd covered the delicious treat with her slacks.

The smell of her cream mixed with oil vapor. He sneezed.

Her silky mane of black hair fell to her shoulders. Bed tousled, fuck-me hair. He growled as she edged by him. Unbelievably horny and ready to finally, finally make her his, he needed to calm the beast to show her the man. Brock had waited twenty-one long years. So long.

When she sidled past him, he did not move or give in to the urge to chase. She wasn't wolf and couldn't protect herself if he played rough games with her. He retained enough humanity to meet her man to woman, but his growing excitement to play threatened his leash on his baser instincts. Allie pushed the red button for the elevator.

Chase, chase.

He yipped at her, and she cut her gaze his way. Brock jumped in the air and, unable to contain his growing frenzy, pranced in place. Unbelievably, she smiled at him before she stepped into the lift and allowed the door to close behind her.

What did that smile mean? Was she ready for him to hunt her? He was more than ready.

He dashed down the stairs.

Allie slid across the tile floor of the apartment lobby. The click of Brock's paws scrambled down the stairs. Closer and closer. Her heart raced when she stepped through the automatic doors.

Yes!
As usual, a taxi waited at the curb of the hotel across the street. She hopped in.

"Do you know Fonso's garage off I-85?” she asked.

"Sure.” The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb.

Allie reached for her purse.
Damn.
She'd rushed out without her wallet or money.

I hope the hell the boss-man is there, or I'll have to borrow from the register
.

Wetting her dry lips, Allie angled toward the rear window. Her wolf skidded to a halt at the side of the road, thrust his snout into the air, and let loose a protracted wail.

Under the light of the awning he stood, braving discovery. Before, she'd been too frightened to really focus on him. She didn't have long now, either, now that the taxi sped along the street. Such a magnificent creature. He
was
hers. She could not deny it any longer.

His beautiful fur streaked with silver and glistened at the outer fringes. The light tips graduated to dark against almost black skin. His dark legs contrasted with his bright, sterling tail. Visible from this distance, arresting ice-blue eyes stared after the taxi.

Darting between shadows, he loped down the street. The light accentuated his muscles while he bunched low on the ground, spread wide at full bore, and streaked after them

"Breathtaking,” she whispered.

"You say something?” The cabbie eyed her in the rearview.

"Nothing,” she muttered and shook her head. The streetlights flicked by, and she remained quiet over the rest of the short ride, but her foot tapped restlessly on the floorboard, and she shifted in her seat.

The chase was on. She needed to get Brock away from her apartment building and Max. Getting caught would be the icing on the cake.

She laughed. The driver stared at her in the mirror again. She couldn't help it. All these years dreading Brock and she wanted to stop the car and go to him.

Not vicious, the culture of the PACk only became deadly if danger threatened a mate or cub. Hierarchy loose, the alpha pair dominated but did not demand abject submission. Although, they did enforce obedience to their culture and moral codes. If those codes were broken, the Alphas could be brutal but never cruel. For the most part, the PACk led a peaceful existence in the southern Appalachians.

Three years ago, her mother had been thrilled to learn Brock would return and marry her daughter. Unsure of her future and more than a little nervous, Allie had walked the forest to think. She'd spied a zealous wolf coupling with the male behind, teeth bared. Though PACk females readily submitted to their males, this male had been brutal and even drew blood when he bit her. In the end, the male mounted the female, furiously entering her while holding her down by the neck. Allie had nearly lost her lunch.

Brock had returned that night and asked her to be his wife. She'd been frightened and disgusted at the thought of marrying something that fornicated as an animal. After a flat refusal, she'd fled. He might have been good-looking and hot as hell, but she couldn't handle the promise of feral sex and dominant play.

For years, dark images and sharp teeth had filled her dreams. In her darkest visions, she'd run like a rabbit before being caught and ravaged by a werewolf.

Now she'd seen his wolf, touched the man, and remembered the kind protector from her childhood. In the space of a heartbeat, his wicked tongue had awakened her buried need. With the last few minutes fanning the flames of desire, her remembered dreams also added fuel. She was on fire for him. Her panties were soaked, but she didn't care. The scent would lure him to her, as long as the fumes of asphalt didn't overwhelm him.

The cab came to a halt outside the service station. The fluorescents splashed down over the concrete at the pumps, the inside of the station bright for all the world to see. It was eerie to see it lit like a Christmas tree with no one around. For security, the lights blared all night, but it had long since closed.

Empty. Fonso would not be here to lend her fare. It was who-knows-what-time in the middle of the night. She jumped out of the taxi.

"Hey, wait a minute.” The driver yelled after her.

She didn't stop to bicker, since she intended to pay him. She yelled over her shoulder, “I'll be right back, and there's a good tip in the deal for you."

Allie jogged to the rear entry and scanned for any witnesses. She picked up a rock where she'd hidden a key. Allie unlocked the door, nudged it with her hip, and entered the security code into the pad on the wall. At the register, she keyed in her PIN and grabbed two twenties from the till.

A scuffle came from behind her, and she jolted. The driver stood in the door and eyed the register. She gulped and pushed the drawer shut. At the loud “ding” from the machine, the cabbie blinked and looked at her.

Under the counter at her knee, Fonso's gun gave her courage, though she'd never use it. Her words came steady and strong. “Thanks for waiting. Have a nice night."

The driver stood still for a moment, and she couldn't read his intent from his blank expression. A soft growl interrupted the silence. A giant, man-sized wolf, teeth bared, stalked into the office.

"Holy shit!” The heavy-set man backed away from Allie and circled away from Brock, who edged toward her with a deep grumbling.

"Is that thing yours?” he asked with a shaky, high voice that cracked. His face etched in fear, he backed toward the door.

"Yes, he's mine."

At her declaration, the cabbie darted out the door, and Brock grew quiet with a few left over chuffs. His blue eyes hadn't changed and were so like the man who'd been such a part of her life. His head was as high as her chest, so he had to bend to nudge her hand.

She ran her fingers lightly over his fur, eliciting a whimper of pleasure. Pleased with his response, she scratched behind his ears, ruffled the tuft under his chin, and skimmed across his back. Grabbing a fistful of his pelt, she tugged and sifted his coarse yet soft fur.

At his continued nudging, she sat in the office chair that creaked in protest. The force of his head dropping into her lap wheeled the chair back against the wall, and the windows in the small office shook in their casements. She stroked his head. His chest rumbled, and he licked her hand. When he started to nuzzle her crotch, she stiffened.

"Stop that. Not like this,” she insisted.

Before she could push his nose away, he trembled. Recognizing the signs, she waited for his shift. Countless times, she'd seen others change, but now it struck her speechless.

His fur dropped off and scattered along the oil-stained floor in gossamer strands. As if a soft wind blew away the hair, golden skin appeared, and he straightened his legs with an audible pop, one at a time in a leisurely stretch. He kept his nose in her lap. His snout retreated, and his head rounded beneath her splayed fingertips. He groaned a human sound of a male in pain. To comfort, she rubbed through his jet-black, silky hair.

"I've missed you, Allie."

At his croaked admission, Allie began to cry like the ten-year-old he'd left behind. He stood to reveal a gloriously nude body in prime condition. An impressive erection strained in front of him with unabashed interest. She didn't have that kind of experience, but he seemed large to her. He wanted to slide all that inside her. Her tears stopped abruptly. The shock sliced through her from head to crotch and ended with an electric current to her clit.

He scooped her up and held her against him. His arms were like heaven, a homecoming so sweet she gave in to the sobs again. She threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Her life. She had been so empty without him. Now, warmth grew inside her, furling, encasing her heart. He was a man. Brock. Not an animal.

And she wanted him.

Brock loosened his grip after Allie stepped away with her every ragged breath tugging at him. She put another step between them and looked him in the eyes, tears glistening but no longer falling.

"I missed you, too,” she said, and peace washed over him.

She pushed her hair out of her face and rubbed at the bared midriff that tantalized him. When she caught him looking, she smiled nervously for a moment then firmed her lips. With a flirtatious smirk, she unbuttoned her denim service shirt and threw it to the side to reveal her ample breasts.

His chest began that damn rumbling he hadn't been able to still since he'd caught her scent.

He took the one long step separating them. Intent on caressing that pure, beckoning pale skin, he hesitated for a blink of an eye. He didn't want to mar her perfection. He moved behind her before she could say a word and tickled her ribs. As she had when she was young, she leaned over, wrapped her arms around herself, and giggled. Unlike before, her sweet ass bumped into his erection, and he nearly came on the spot.

"Ssst,” he hissed. His fingers hardened around her, no longer playful. Now demanding, seeking.

"Did I hurt you?” she asked and tipped her head back to face him over her shoulder.

If he hadn't scented her before to be sure, now he was certain she was inexperienced. She wouldn't mistake that groan if she'd ever been with a man. He would be her first and her last. His cock practically wept to be inside her.

"I'm fine,” he answered with a tight voice that threatened to break. “I'll be better if I can touch you."

She blushed. The red points on her cheeks coincided with a rush of heat from her. The scent of her arousal nearly shoved him past civility. He had to hold her but without hurting her. Brock needed to talk to keep his mind just this side of sanity.

"When you denied my offer of marriage,” he began.

She tensed as if to interrupt, and the sorrow in her profile eased some of the old heartache. He silenced her with a finger on her lips. She kissed the tip of it. He trailed down her chin, throat, breast, and then brushed across her nipple. Her skin pebbled, and a light dusty hue rose on her neck and spread over her chest. The heat resonated on his own skin and sent shivers all over him.

"I got angry,” he continued in a soft voice. His tale would not be pretty, but the woman standing patiently for his touch was beautiful and deserved tenderness.

"Shh,” he said when she tried to turn and speak. “Wait."

He cupped Allie's pert breasts and massaged. They fit perfectly in his large hands. Much taller than her, he looked over her shoulder and straight down the valley of her breasts to the waistband of the slacks he wanted to tear off. He ran a finger down her side to stop on her hip and pulled her bottom flush against his erection.

To keep from ripping the rest of her clothes off, he kissed her neck and continued. “I ran and ran. The running wasn't enough. I stopped at an out of the way bar. I planned to think over a beer. Instead, I didn't think, and I got stupid and very drunk."

Allie reached over her shoulder to cup the side of his face, and he leaned into her gentle touch.

"What did you want to think about?” she asked. Her softness soothed more of the emptiness he'd carried for three years.

"Nothing. Well, about you. How to change your mind. What had caused that fear I saw in your eyes when you looked at me."

She cringed and dropped her hand, but she didn't move away. Before he could stop himself, he smoothed his hands on her stomach and eased a finger into the top of her pants. They both froze, but her growing excitement grew thick in the air. He sucked in the scent and ran his tongue over his lips. Damn if he wasn't panting.

"Okay. It's okay for you to put your hand there,” she said. There was no mistaking her compliance. Her pheromones thickly coated his mouth, but a nervous edge tinged her hunger.

"I want to put my hand there,” he said. He nudged against her clothed backside with his cock in an unconscious response before he caught himself. “We'll take this one step at a time. We have all night, but I won't stop if I start. Are you ready for this, Allie?"