Wolf Instinct

by Paige Tyler

  “Did you always want to be a fed, or did you just end up there?” he prompted when she didn’t answer right away. “Kind of like me and the Dallas SWAT team.”

  Alyssa smiled, wanting to point out it was unlikely anyone in the world had a career path quite as convoluted as his. But then she remembered exactly why she’d gone into the bureau and the smile faded from her face.

  “When I was seventeen, my friend Amanda and I were kidnapped on our way to see a movie,” she said softly, her face mostly hidden by her mug as she slowly inhaled the aroma of her coffee, letting it soothe her. She very carefully avoided looking in Zane’s direction, not wanting to see the expression on his face.

  “It was in Tampa, where I grew up, and it was during summer break between our junior and senior years in high school. We were young, naive, and just plain stupid when it came to protecting ourselves. We foolishly parked in the darkest part of the lot at the movie theater and didn’t even notice the van following us as Amanda looked for a space. Hell, we wouldn’t have thought twice even if we had.”

  “They grabbed you when you got out of the car?” Zane asked, his voice tight.

  “Yeah.” She swallowed hard, reliving that moment as if it had been yesterday. “They pulled up beside us as we were walking toward the movie theater and rolled down the window like they wanted to ask us a question. Amanda and I walked right up to them without even thinking about it. Before we knew what was happening, two guys jumped out, dragged us into the back, and the van sped away. We tried to fight, but there were four of the assholes, and they’d done this enough times to be good at it.”

  She set down her mug and finally looked at Zane to see him sitting there with a stunned expression on his face. “They’d grabbed several other girls over the previous few weeks, including the daughter of a foreign diplomat who’d been in town on vacation. That’s why the FBI got involved so fast.”

  Alyssa fell silent, dark thoughts and memories overtaking her. She gave herself a little mental shake.

  “They chloroformed Amanda and me, but for some reason, it wore off faster on me than it did on her. When they stopped the van, they left us alone for a few seconds and I was able to escape. I tried to take Amanda, but she was completely out of it and I knew I could never carry her. So I bolted, praying I could get away and find help.”

  She popped open the box of frosted brown sugar Pop-Tarts to give herself something to do with her hands, hating the way they were shaking all of a sudden. Opening the silver wrapper, she offered one of the pastries to Zane. He took it without comment.

  “It was dark, and we were way out in the swamps.” She set down her Pop-Tart and broke off a piece but didn’t eat it. “The kidnappers realized fairly quickly that I’d escaped and came after me. All I remember is a lot of falling and running into tree branches and thickets. They shot at me a few times and I’m pretty sure there was a gator in there somewhere, but after running for what felt like forever, I finally made it to the highway, where someone stopped for me.”

  It seemed as if Zane was right there in her nightmare with her, his chest rising and falling so fast it seemed like he was almost hyperventilating—kind of like what she was doing. She abruptly realized how similar what had happened to her was to the twins she and Zane had rescued the other night. The kidnapping part of the story anyway. Maybe that’s why she was so concerned about them.

  “Unfortunately, I ran for hours through the swamps without a clue where I was going, so when the FBI tried to talk to me, I was a complete mess,” she said. “The agent in charge of the case decided I was a lost cause and that I didn’t have any information to help find Amanda and the other girls they’d kidnapped. I overheard him saying to the other agents that my escape almost certainly meant Amanda and the other girls were dead.”

  The guilt she’d felt at that moment was something she’d never forget.

  Zane cursed. “What happened?”

  She gave him a small smile. “Christine happened. She came into my room and asked me bizarre questions, like what movie Amanda and I had been going to see, whether we were going to get popcorn or candy, even if we liked to sit in the center of the row at the movie theater or on the end. I didn’t have a clue why she was asking me all that stuff, but I answered her anyway. So she kept it up. For hours. Then when I thought she couldn’t possibly ask me anything else, she wanted to know what the van smelled like, whether I remembered driving over any bridges or gravel roads, what the kidnappers had said while they were chasing me, whether the moon was in front of me or behind me as I ran. And even though I couldn’t recall any of those things before the two of us talked, I started to.”

  Alyssa nibbled on the piece of pastry she was still holding. She remembered thinking that all of those questions had been a waste of time—or maybe simply a way to distract her from the fact that Amanda and the other girls were already dead and it was her fault. But at the same time, Alyssa remembered latching on to Christine’s sure, confident style, believing her when she’d said that it was all going to be okay.

  “The next morning, Christine brought me out to the swamps, believing I should be able to work my way backward along the path I’d taken to escape. I thought she was absolutely insane, but…”

  “But?”

  “But we did,” Alyssa said. “We found this ugly, little cabin in the middle of the swamp with the van parked beside it covered with a military-style camo net. Christine called in for backup, and when the cavalry arrived, she led the way in and saved Amanda and three other girls. They’re all alive today because one junior FBI agent figured out how to get that information out of me.”

  “And that’s when you decided you wanted to be just like her.” Zane grinned. “That’s why you went into the FBI.”

  “Pretty much,” Alyssa admitted. “But I couldn’t have done it without Christine’s help. She’s the one who helped me figure out the best college to go to and what degrees to get. My poor parents weren’t thrilled with my career choice. They wanted me to do something less dangerous, like become an accountant. Even after getting a bachelor’s in criminology and a master’s in criminal psychology, they still thought I’d change my mind. It wasn’t until after I completed my training at Quantico that they realized I was serious about becoming an FBI agent.”

  “They’re okay with it now then?”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh. I mean, they still worry about me, but they’re cool with it. They just want me to be happy.”

  “Are you?” he asked. “Happy being an FBI agent, I mean.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “The pay isn’t the greatest and I practically live in hotels, but I love what I do.”

  “That’s what’s important.” Zane leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I am curious how you find time for anything resembling a social life since you’re never in one place very long.”

  She snorted, remembering how Christine had ragged on her about this same subject. “Social life. What’s that? As far as I’m concerned, if the FBI wanted me to have a social life, they’d issue me one, like my sidearm and badge.”

  Zane lifted a brow. “Are you saying that a woman as beautiful as you hasn’t gone on a date with anyone in a year and half?”

  Coming from anyone but Zane, that question might have irritated her. But for whatever reason, it didn’t. She especially liked the compliment. “While I’m not going to come out and put an exact time frame on it, I’ll admit it’s been a while. But if we’re going to discuss our social lives, how about you? Don’t tell me a big, good-looking man like you isn’t involved with someone.”

  Zane’s gaze turned molten in the sun coming through the window and she felt her stomach do that funny flutter thing that had only started happening after they’d met. “If I were involved with someone, do you think I would have kissed you like I did last night?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Would you?”

  He lifted his mug and took a long, slow sip of coffee. “No, I wouldn’t have. I�
��ve dated a few women since moving to Dallas. Probably more than a few, I guess. But it never felt right with any of them, and after a while, it didn’t seem worth the effort. Then I met you and everything felt different. That’s why I kissed you.”

  She’d just been messing with him about kissing her if he was involved with someone. His response was a lot more real than she’d expected. The part about why he’d kissed her made her warm all over. But the stuff about him not connecting with anyone since leaving London hurt more than she would have thought possible.

  “You broke up with your fiancée a long time ago,” she pointed out. “Are you saying that in all that time, you never met anyone you could see yourself falling for?”

  He didn’t answer at first, pausing to slowly chew his Pop-Tart. When he did finally answer her question, he kept his gaze fixed on the mug in front of him. “This probably won’t make much sense, but for people like me, it can be difficult finding that perfect person we’re supposed to be with. Some might even say it’s impossible.” The words were so soft she had to lean forward to hear them. “When the woman I thought was the right one for me walked out, I didn’t think it could happen again. But since meeting you, I’ve started thinking maybe I gave up too soon.”

  Alyssa didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t a declaration of love or anything, but still…

  Picking up her mug, she got up and poured herself more coffee. She held the pot up in Zane’s direction, but he shook his head. She didn’t necessarily want a refill, but it gave her a chance to think about everything he’d said. The guy had just unleashed a lot. It would take a while to absorb it all.

  Like those three simple but significant words: people like me. Just that fast, the big, sexy Brit had confirmed he was different. Surprisingly, that acknowledgment didn’t bother her as much as she thought it might. While she’d discounted the possibility of him using some kind of spell on her, part of her wondered if Zane was putting out some kind of supernatural pheromone to attract his victims with and make them easier to subdue. But one look at him sitting at the table chewing thoughtfully on his frosted brown sugar Pop-Tart made her toss that ridiculous idea right out of her head. Zane didn’t need to put out any pheromones to lure her in. All he had to do was look at her.

  She shook her head. One smile from him and she was ready to throw caution to the wind. Was she really that easy?

  Alyssa walked back over to the table with her coffee, thinking about the other stuff Zane had said—especially the part where he’d confessed he’d given up on the idea of finding someone until meeting her. She’d never thought of herself as the kind of woman who cared about romantic drivel, but when Zane said those words, she had to admit there’d been some serious feels going on. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him. The other part wanted to throw him on the floor and bang him like a cheap screen door—but that part was only making noise because it had been so long since she’d gotten laid.

  “So,” she said, ignoring her chair and instead sitting on the edge of the table right in front of Zane. “I’m guessing you think I might be this perfect someone you’d given up hope of ever finding? Do you mind if I ask what makes you think that?”

  Zane pushed his chair back a bit to make room for her, his dark eyes meeting hers. “You’re not going to like this answer, but…it’s complicated.”

  He was right. She didn’t like it. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  “Let’s just say the first time I saw you at that club, taking down Stefan’s goon, I knew you were someone special. And even though I’m still not sure if I’m comfortable with the idea—actually, I’m downright terrified—I’m also sure you’re The One for me.”

  That sounded so romance-bookish Alyssa almost laughed out loud. The serious expression on Zane’s face was the only thing that stopped her. It might be crazy as heck, but the big, sexy hunk seemed to genuinely believe it.

  They sat there looking at each other, Alyssa cupping both hands around her mug, breathing in the warm coffee while Zane seemed to be holding his breath like he thought she might bolt for the door at any second. Which was crazy since this was her room.

  “Okay,” she said, setting her mug on the table. “Assuming you’re right and I’m The One for you, what do we do now?”

  Zane grinned. “Kissing would be nice, yes?”

  His big hands were coming up to wrap around her hips, tugging her forward off the table and onto the chair with him until she was straddling his thighs. As sexy as that position might be, Alyssa couldn’t help laughing. “Seriously? That’s the movie line you’re going with to get into my panties?”

  Zane buried his fingers in her hair, tugging her mouth closer to his. Just before their lips met, he flashed her that thousand-watt smile, which made her pulse skip a beat. “I don’t know,” he murmured, his coffee-scented breath warm on her skin. “Did it work?”

  Alyssa hadn’t realized exactly what she’d said—about getting into her panties—until right then. But as she gazed down at Zane and his beautiful smile, she decided letting him have his way with her unmentionables sounded like a really good idea. After that, who knew what she might let him get into?

  She didn’t bother to answer his question. Instead, she lowered her mouth to his and kissed him hard enough to pull a growl out of him. And what an interesting growl it was, rumbling up through his chest and straight into her open mouth, making little tingles and shivers dance all over her body.

  Apparently, she was into guys who growled. That was new.

  When Zane’s fingers tightened more firmly in her hair, Alyssa responded and deepened the kiss, her tongue tangling with his, tasting him as her hands came up to slip inside the top of his leather jacket to get a firm grip on his broad shoulders. She massaged them, digging her fingers into the tense muscles there until another growl of pleasure slipped past their joined lips. That only encouraged her to do it even harder. Soon, she was rocking back and forth on his lap, kissing him hard enough to leave a smile on his face for the next week.

  Alyssa was so caught up in the sensations she barely noticed when one of his hands came down to rest on her hip—until he slid her higher up his lap, so the junction of her thighs was resting right on his hard-on.

  She moaned as she found something firm and inviting to wiggle herself against. Damn, it really had been a long time. But just like riding a bike, her hips remembered the rhythm she’d always enjoyed, grinding in tight, little circles until her clit began to tingle like mad in her jeans. She sighed against Zane’s mouth, positive her panties were already getting wet.

  The sensations only got more intense when his other hand slipped out of her hair and teased its way under the hem of her T-shirt, warm fingertips tracing up and down her back, toying with the strap of her bra when they weren’t moving along the ridges of her spine and shoulder blades. Then, just when she thought she might go mad from how good those simple touches felt, Zane moved his right hand around to her front, pulling her shirt up to tease those magical fingers along her belly button, her ribs, and her stomach.

  She was practically hyperventilating by the time he reached her breasts, her nipples screaming for attention, even with the soft material of her bra in the way. Zane didn’t disappoint. His strong fingers found her already-hardened nipple and squeezed it to an even stiffer point.

  “You have no idea how good that feels,” she said hoarsely, breaking their kiss to bury her face in the curve of his neck, breathing in the combination of Zane’s masculine scent mixed with the leather of his jacket.

  He chuckled as he tweaked her nipple even harder before moving over to its neighbor and doing the same. “If the scent you’re putting off right now is any indication, I’m guessing it feels nearly orgasmic.”

  Before she could ask what the hell he’d meant by that, she realized he was right. All this grinding and teasing had her on the edge of coming. He was so hot she was ready to explode before she even got her clothes off.

 
; She closed her eyes, grinding her hips even harder, pushing herself those last few inches toward the precipice, when Zane suddenly stood, making her yelp in alarm and completely ruining her chances to come. Her legs went around his hips out of pure survival instinct, even as she felt his right hand come down and cup her ass protectively to make sure she didn’t fall as he carried her toward the bed.

  “You do realize I was close to something kind of important there, right?” she complained against his chest as he walked.

  Zane laughed softly, the sound making her shiver in a completely different way than his growls had. “I was aware. But the first time you fall apart for me, I’d prefer if you were completely naked. I’m kind of visual that way.”

  She started to respond, but her mouth snapped closed as Zane’s words finally filtered through. The first time you fall apart for me. Multiple orgasms were on the menu? Yes, please!

  Alyssa was about to ask him how many climaxes he planned on giving her—purely out of academic interest, of course—when Zane dumped her onto the cushy bed, distracting her. By the time she got her head working again, her shoes, jeans, and T-shirt were already halfway across the room and the sexy man in front of her was working fast to get himself naked, too.

  She lay back in her bra and panties, taking in the scene as he slipped out of his leather jacket and T-shirt, then shoved his jeans down and kicked them aside. Daaaaammn! His chest was the stuff of fantasies. It was all she could do not to jump up and run her hands all over those lusciously sculpted muscles. Then there were his rock-hard abs. Seriously, she could wash her clothes on them—if she was interested in washing her clothes at that moment, which she wasn’t.

  She lifted her gaze to his chest again, paying more attention to the tattoo on his left pec that she’d barely glanced at before. Although, now she was focused on it, she didn’t know how she’d missed it. The head of a fierce-looking wolf with S.W.A.T. in bold letters above it, the ink was truly a work of art.