Black Mesa Wolves Complete Series Boxset Bks 1-7
Page 40
For a split second, she imagined his hands traveling over her body, smoothing along her flesh, dipping into her hollows and caressing over her curves. A gasp rose in her throat at the force of the image, which she knew was underscored by her wolf's firm attention on him. Swallowing it down before she embarrassed them both, she blindly jabbed at the elevator's “up” button.
Wolves had a tremendous amount of sexual energy. It simply defined them as what they were. To be perfectly frank, Claire had no problem acting on her needs, especially with her wolf very eagerly urging her on. She'd had casual, fun one night stands before when she traveled for readings. Just one night, then she never saw them again. Those encounters never worried her before, or made her gasp with longing before she'd even touched the guy. And, of course, they were almost always human men. But Tate—something was incredibly different about him. Something drew her to him in a way she'd never felt before. It was as unsettling as it was exhilarating.
Following her instincts to get naked with him was not unusual for her. He was gorgeous and as interested in her as she was in him. What kept frying her brain was the crazy sense that she already knew him—and that she would see him again after this.
The elevator door softly opened. Attempting to keep her stride steady, Claire walked in. Every sensation in her body was wildly alive, keenly attuned to the presence of the sexiest man she'd ever set eyes on just a few feet away from her. The man she'd invited up to her room.
“So,” Tate said, leaning back against the elevator wall and eyeing her in that soft way, one lip curved up in what she'd begun to suspect was a perpetual smile. “You write. You read your writing to groups of people. You live near my home, but I've never seen you before. Yet for some reason, it almost feels like I know you already. What to make of that, huh?”
Claire jumped inside as he echoed her own thoughts. But despite the fact his last words were a question, his tone was so utterly nonchalant she didn't even tense. Something about him put her at ease so totally, she felt on a core level that she could trust him with her life.
Aside from Melle, Claire never felt that way about anybody. Ever.
“But enough about you,” Tate said, a sudden twinkle in his eye and a flash of a cute dimple—a dimple! Who knew she'd ever find a dimple on a man to be so sexy?—letting her know he was teasing. “Bet you wondered why a dusty old cowboy was wandering the urban streets of Denver.”
“You're hardly old.” Teasing him back came so naturally she still felt a little startled.
“Old enough to know how to treat a beautiful woman who clearly has a brain, her wits about her, and is getting more intriguing to me every second,” he returned. This time, although his voice was still mild and the grin still shaped his mouth, something with a more serious intent crept in as well.
Something more seriously sexy.
In her mind, Claire's wolf stretched and rolled, exposing her belly, then leapt to her feet in a playful fashion. She liked this game of repartee. The deep ache throbbed between Claire's legs again, and she drew in a somewhat shaky breath as strong desire pierced her.
Tate abruptly stilled, his eyes going straight to hers. The smile eased away from his features, leaving them focused. And aroused.
Claire tipped her head to the side and met his gaze head on. There was no way she could hide her attraction to him. Any wolf within a mile of them would be able to sense it as well. But she wasn't afraid of her attraction to this dark-haired, gentle wolf. Nor was she afraid to let him see it.
The only fear she really had was acting on it. After her most recent brush with a possessive male from a wolf pack, she wasn't keen on letting that possibility happen again. Even though every erotic possibility with Tate, especially the kind that led to them both being sweaty and satisfied, was looking more enticing with each moment she felt herself falling into the gorgeous pool of his velvety brown eyes.
8
As soon as Claire focused her gaze on him, the sensuality behind it had Tate futilely pressing his hands behind him against the elevator wall to keep himself from making some dumb move that would startle her off and end this very promising evening far too prematurely. He heard the hitch in her breath, smelled the spike in her arousal.
His wolf pawed at his mind, demanding to be allowed to lead Tate into his natural state. Bit by slow bit, Tate relaxed his control, allowing his wolf to join the forefront of his more rational human mind. He'd let his sides merge closer, as long as he didn't scare her off. He often relied on his wolf when he was training horses, to let that more instinctive side hold forth.
Hopefully, the technique worked just as well on a somewhat skittish, utterly absorbing woman. Not that she seemed remotely skittish about her own interest in him. Claire was a wolf, and clearly fully in tune with the sexual side of herself. That, he was pretty clear on. Something else, though, held part of her back. Damned if he wouldn't figure out what it was. He just needed to take his time, go slow, and not make her run away again.
If only he could remember exactly what it was he'd said in Cortez the other day that made her take off. He'd never broach the subject again, if it kept him close to this bewitching female.
His mate. His human mind still boggled with that knowledge, despite his wolf's total acceptance of it. Then again, wolves naturally mated for life, while humans didn't necessarily have that tendency. In the wolf shifter world, it was the extremely rare wolf who never discovered a mate and instead might share a less deep bond with a random partner of choice. Tate had just assumed he'd have years before stumbling across his mate. Then again, he also knew full well what the word “assume” really meant. It was a good way to make an ass out of “u” and “me.”
He reached for careful words, although he didn't drop his gaze just yet. “You're the most intriguing woman I've ever met, Claire. I know you can sense that. We both know.”
Clearly not one to blush, she nevertheless shifted on her feet. Just the sight of her soft curves moving beneath her clothing sent an abrupt thickness to his cock, making it necessary for him slightly adjust his stance as well.
Was that sudden amusement in her face? Not one to let a potentially humorous moment slip by, Tate said, “Obviously I'm interested. I don't like to hide things. Especially not important things like letting a woman know I like her.”
A smile broke across her face, illuminating it to the point of almost painful beauty. Tate wanted nothing more in that moment than to rub his face against hers, nibble at her ear, softly kiss his way down her beautiful neck.
“I can tell you aren't one to mince words,” she said. Her rich voice still wrapped around his senses, keeping his arousal firmly ignited. She'd dropped her gaze again, fingers fiddling with her dark jacket. But the smile remained. “So, okay, I'll bite. Why are you wandering around Denver, anyway? There can't be many horses downtown.”
Tate laughed. She was matching him on the scale of humor. He liked her more and more every second, beyond his purely male appreciation of her body and his deep knowledge that she was meant to be his. And he hers.
“I train horses. I flew here the other day to see clients outside the city. Flying home tomorrow, too.”
Watching her carefully since her eyes were still averted from his, he caught the light twitch of her eyelid when he said the word home. A-ha. That was a trigger for her. Seemed he still had to be somewhat delicate in his approach with her.
“Horses? That's an unusual occupation for someone like us.”
Someone who was a wolf shifter, she meant.
Tate shrugged. “It's always come fairly naturally to me. The connection to horses part, I mean,” he hastened to add, in case she thought he was bragging. “The training—well, let's just say I've had a steep learning curve over the years, and I'll never stop learning.”
Claire sighed a bit wistfully. “I love horses. But I've never really been near them.” She looked back up at him. Something in her face softened, despite the ever-present natural wariness that seemed to liv
e under her skin. God, he couldn't wait to stroke that smooth, beautiful skin. “I don't really understand what's happening here,” she said, changing the subject so suddenly he felt briefly unmoored. “But I feel totally comfortable around you. At ease.” Pausing for a split second, she went on in a very quiet voice touched by curious wonder, “Like you'd never hurt me. Maybe that's how horses feel around you, too.”
Tate tilted his head a bit and looked at Claire. He couldn't let this woman walk away from him again. Ever. Studying her closely for a moment, he carefully read her body language. She was aroused. She was letting him up to her room. She might recognize he was her mate—or maybe not yet.
Even if it seemed arrogant to admit it, Tate knew he was extremely good at reading body language. And Claire's body language was crystal clear, even if he still sensed some hesitation behind her eyes. In a split second, he firmly made up his mind on how to approach the rest of the evening.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Without skipping a beat, Tate reached for Claire's hand and gently tugged her out. Trying not to stagger from the sparks of flaming desire as his skin touched hers, he quietly said, “Which room, Claire? Because right now, darlin', I can't even remember my own name for wanting you so badly. So please take me to your bed before I explode right here in this hallway.”
Her beautiful lips slowly parted as her pulse wildly sped up. Clear green eyes wide and focused on him, Claire stared at him. His wolf pushed hard at his mind, demanding to be let out so he could claim his mate. Gently, Tate brought her hand up to his mouth and grazed the back of it with his lips, never taking his eyes from hers.
Claire closed her eyes. A small, needy sound escaped her, nearly causing Tate to spasmodically crush her hand in his as he struggled for control for at least another several moments. Swallowing hard, Claire opened her eyes. They'd darkened to a smoky green with her arousal. Voice low and full of an intent that had Tate swaying on his feet, she said, “Follow me, then.”
* * *
Claire held her breath as they hustled into her hotel room. The delicious pressure between her legs seemed full to bursting. Behind her, Tate was completely silent. She was so keenly attuned to his presence, though, that she could sense his own undeniable need as loudly as if he were yelling it. The second the door softly clicked shut behind him, Claire turned a half step and looked over her shoulder at the gorgeous man who prowled into the room after her.
Tate sucked in his breath, then breathed out, “Claire.” All laughter was gone from his expression. The intensity in his chocolate-brown eyes touched Claire on an equally deep level. Her wolf stirred even more strongly, staring back at Tate through Claire's eyes with an avid hunger. Easily, Claire let her wild side guide this most instinctual of dances.
“Yes,” she breathed back, nodding her head once. “Yes, please.”
The dark-haired cowboy needed no further invitation. A groan spilling out of his mouth, he strode forward the two steps it took him to reach her and enveloped her in a embrace that tangled their lips, their tongues, their arms together. Claire felt fire lick along her limbs, racing through her in alternating hot shivers as Tate's mouth descended on hers, gently demanding and finding entrance. The spicy, heady maleness of his scent overwhelmed her as the mingled sound of their breathing filled the room.
He felt so right. His body molded against hers perfectly. Claire moaned into him as his tongue explored her. Her legs shook a bit. Tate slid a hand down her back, then over the swell of her rear. Gasping, she tipped her head back a bit as sensations zinged through her. She felt her rational human reasoning drift away as her feral side took over, guiding her movements with joyous excitement. The sense of utter acceptance she felt about this man still somewhat baffled her, but she wasn't about to question it now. Not when she knew down to her toes he was about to touch and stroke her body into stratospheric sensations. She'd missed this.
Not only that, it somehow felt like she'd also missed this particular man.
Tate leaned down and nipped at her neck. His teeth grazed the hypersensitive skin there, sending mini earthquakes of desire skittering through her.
“I like it when you groan like that,” he murmured. The movement of his lips made a delightful buzzing against her skin. “Have to admit I'd been wondering what you'd sound like when I kissed you.”
“Oh, really?” she managed to say. Her voice came out in a ragged whisper. The faint background roaring of something huge and undeniable began to overtake her, pushing her rational human side ever farther back as her purely instinctive wolf side reveled in this sensual moment.
“Yes, indeed, darlin'. Since the very moment I saw you.”
His lips traveled up her neck, slowly exploring, each centimeter of their movement causing more ripples to shimmy their way down her skin. She'd never known her neck was so capable of sensation. When Tate's lips reached her ear and carefully played with the soft lobe, Claire gasped in surprise at the intensity of the feelings that made her shiver and twist in his arms. A bolt of wet need pulsed between her legs so powerfully she wondered if she was actually about to climax on the spot.
“God, Claire,” he murmured, amazement sounding from his own voice. “You are so responsive to my touch. Can you tell what that does to me?” He growled those last words, pressing hard against her body.
Yes. Yes, she could indeed feel the impact she had upon him. The hard length of his cock pressed into her thigh, hot and straining against his jeans. Whimpering a bit, Claire let the little shudders of anticipation race up and down her spine. A hot wave rolled through her, seeming to melt her bones and her mind into a puddle of goo.
Pulling back from him, she tugged at his fingers and pulled him to the king-sized bed. The hotel cleaning staff had left it neatly made. She was about to muss the hell out of it with this man. This man, who made her weak in the knees, scattered in the head, and tingling all over her body. This man she'd just met, didn't even know, but who felt so comfortable it was if she'd been with him her entire life.
This gorgeous, stunning man she was about to get very naked and sweaty with. Breath hitching in her chest, she turned around to face him when they reached the foot of the bed. Tate's eyes were darkened almost to black with his desire. Slowly, she rubbed her hands up his arms, feeling him shiver as she did. The slide of his muscles beneath her fingers made her pulse bang as she felt the strength in them. He could hold her so easily, keep her safe in his arms.
The faraway thought that she didn't need him to keep her safe, she could protect herself just fine, flared briefly before flickering out completely as she batted it away. This moment. This moment was all she cared about right now.
She lightly ran her fingers up to his shoulders, then traced the collar of his shirt before dipping them under it to touch his bare skin. A satisfied male groan told her how much he liked that.
“Come here.” She whispered the words, watching him closely. His pulse jumped and his black licorice eyes, darkened from his arousal, were half-lidded but far from sleepy. “I want to feel you close to me. Like this,” she added, and pushed herself up against him. The long, firm length of his body against her once more made them both inhale, hard. Claire could smell the sweet need of his desire as much as hers. Caution fled her as she allowed her senses to drive her fully.
Gently, Tate leaned on her until the backs of her knees bent at the edge of the bed. Guided by his hand at the small of her back, she slowly felt herself reclining in a half-sitting, half-lying down position onto the mattress. Tate braced himself on his arms above her, looking into her eyes. She saw the focus of his wolf staring out, making Tate's eyes glow behind their darkness. Carefully, he urged them both farther up the bed until they lay completely on it. Silence held them in thrall the entire time, although Claire's heart beat so loudly she was positive he had to hear it.
“Claire,” he said in a casual voice.
“Mm?” She wondered if it was possible for her heart to beat its way out of her chest.
> “How attached are you to your clothes, darlin'?” His voice hoarsened. Lowering himself to one elbow, the other arm still bracing above her, he trailed a fingertip along her side.
Sucking in a sharp breath at his touch, Claire shook her head, slightly confused. “I have other clothes. Why?”
Tate smiled and hooked a finger beneath her blouse. “Because I want you out of them, now. But I don't want to make you too mad at me just yet.”
Despite the nearly overwhelming sensations zipping through her tensed, ready body, Claire stuttered out a small laugh. “If you make me mad, guess you'll just have to pay the price for it.”
Tate groaned. “Don't tease me like that. Oh, god,” he muttered. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, when he opened them again their rich glow stole Claire's breath. “I can't hold back anymore.”
Arching herself into him, pressing her breasts against his hard chest, she urgently replied, “Then don't.”
With another small groan tearing out of his throat, Tate ripped her blouse off in one move, sending popped buttons zinging off all over the bed and onto the carpet. Claire gasped from shock and a sharp, aching spike in her wild desire. Her panties immediately flooded with hot, wet warmth. Tate gazed down at her breasts, encased in a lacy rose-colored bra, with the worshipful attention of a man who was aware of nothing else in the world at the moment. Muttering a low swear word, he reached down to cup one breast in his hand.
Claire uttered an inarticulate cry, thrusting herself into his hand as her nipple stiffened just from the touch of his fingers on her bra. Hot swirls of feeling puckered her nipple even more as he began to play with it through the silky fabric.
“Christ, Claire,” he muttered. “You're beyond stunning.” She closed her eyes, spinning in the sensations his light touch caused. “Claire, beautiful woman, look at me,” he suddenly demanded.