Wicked Cravings

by Suzanne Wright

  Finally, Shawn returned his attention to her. “I wanted to check if we’re still on for tonight.” They’d agreed to meet up at one of the local bars. “Yeah, sure.” Another low growl from Dante, who was suddenly even closer. She gave him a reproachful elbow-nudge, but the big lug didn’t even seem to feel it.

  “Great. Oh and—”

  “This conversation will have to wait,” interrupted Dante, knowing that if he didn’t move away from Pretty Boy soon, it was highly likely that he’d punch him. Not that it would be so bad, but he was quite sure that Jaime wouldn’t like him bringing trouble to her place of work. “We don’t want to be late for lunch, do we, Jaime?” He smirked at Pretty Boy, ignoring the voice in his head that told him his reaction was a little irrational. He didn’t want Jaime dating a human and risking the trouble that came with it. Okay, so he didn’t want her dating anyone. Or, more accurately, his ego didn’t. But that wasn’t the point.

  Shawn cleared his throat. “I, um, I guess I’ll see you later.” Jaime waited until Shawn was out of hearing distance before speaking. “You know, there’s really no need to bully him.”

  Dante shackled her wrist with his hand. “Come on.” Ignoring the sizzle of heat that traveled up his arm, he led her to his SUV and opened the passenger door.

  “What about my car? I can’t just leave it here.”

  Dante snorted. “That is not a car. That is an accident waiting to happen. There is no chance I’m letting you drive that. Give me your keys, and I’ll have Ryan pick it up later. Once it’s in a better condition, you can have it back.” He hated the idea of her driving that rusty old thing.

  Immediately Jaime’s hackles were up. Even her wolf didn’t like the orders, despite being such a huge fan of Dante’s. “There’s nothing wrong with my car. I’ll drive it and follow—”

  “No, you will not put yourself in danger. Give me your keys, and I’ll have Ryan pick it up later,” he repeated, making it an order this time.

  The fucking shit-stain. No woman, submissive or not, would appreciate being spoken to like that, but a submissive female would follow an order from her Beta when it was related to her safety.

  So, gritting her teeth, Jaime dug her hand into her bag, took out her keys, handed them over, and then hopped into the SUV without a word.

  Inside her head, she cursed him repeatedly as indignation surged through her. Not only because of his high-handed behavior, but because she didn’t want to be in such close proximity with someone her body reacted to as if it thought it belonged to him. “So where are we going?” she asked when he reversed out of the parking space.

  “The Steakhouse. Okay with you?”

  “Fine,” she grumbled. The cocky jerk seemed to find her mood amusing. “What is it you want to talk about anyway?”

  “Like I said before, we’ll talk at the restaurant.” He wanted to be looking at her when he quizzed her. Wanted to be able to observe her posture and see right into those mischievous eyes while he tried to solve her secret.

  Earlier, as he’d been pondering Jaime’s current state, he’d realized that this hadn’t been the first time he had seen her looking like that. Although on the outside she always seemed strong, bright, and lively, there was an undercurrent of melancholy about her. Some days she seemed…tired. Not physically, but mentally, as if there was something weighing hard on her that ate at her natural enthusiasm. He didn’t like it, and neither did his wolf.

  He had tried asking Gabe about it, but the male had played dumb. Dante hadn’t been surprised, and he didn’t blame Gabe—his loyalty to his older sister was admirable. That had left Dante only one option: he’d have to go straight to the source. He was determined to solve the mystery that was Jaime Farrow.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled up outside the restaurant. “Wait, I’ll get the door for you.” She gave him a look that said she could do it herself. “I know, but I want to do it, so wait.” When he opened the passenger door, he took her hand and helped her slide from the SUV. Rather than release her, he kept her hand in his as he led her inside the restaurant. He probably should have released her purely for the reason that he liked touching her. Liked it a little too much. He’d give himself a hard time about it later.

  He wasn’t oblivious to the number of eyes that tracked her as she followed the waitress to their table. He couldn’t blame the guys, especially since she was sexy as hell in those jeans that looked as though they’d been painted on. Still, he shot them glares that had them quickly averting their eyes. His wolf settled a little, satisfied that they had been warned off.

  As she sat in the seat opposite Dante, Jaime barely refrained from snarling at the waitress for ogling him like she wasn’t even there—even though she wished she wasn’t. Her body was already heating at the close contact with him, and she just hoped to God that he didn’t sense it. As they placed their orders, he didn’t return the waitress’s flirtatious smile or give her any kind of encouragement.

  That earned him some points. He earned even more points for not paying any attention to the waitress when she accidentally-on-purpose dropped her pen, offering him a view of her ass. Instead, he looked only at Jaime.

  “So,” he finally began after a minute of silence, “how are things going with you and that damn human?”

  Oh this was getting tedious. “Fine. Although it would be better if you’d lay off.”

  “I’m looking out for you—it’s my job.”

  It hurt that that was all she was to him—a duty. “I’ve told you once before, what happens between Shawn and me is really none of your business.”

  Those words made his blood boil, though he wasn’t sure why. His wolf reacted just as strongly. “Don’t ever say that to me, Jaime. Don’t,” he rumbled.

  “Then back off and give me some space. I’m serious, Dante, if you don’t stop butting in, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…” Damn, she’d nearly threatened to kick his ass—something no submissive wolf would ever do.

  He smiled crookedly. “You’re going to what?”

  “I’m going to sulk.”

  He chuckled but quickly sobered as he said, “You look kind of stressed out today. Care to tell me why that is?”

  “I’m just having an off day,” she said with a shrug.

  Her shrug involuntarily drew Dante’s gaze to those breasts that he’d been fantasizing over since she joined the pack. Damn, her nipples were hard. His entire body clenched at the sight of them poking slightly through her aqua-blue T-shirt. It was a struggle to tear his eyes away. “Why?” She was looking down at the table, doodling circles on the mahogany wood and worrying her lower lip. “I didn’t have a great sleep last night, that’s all.” He had been interrogating people long enough to know when someone was lying to him. He cupped her chin and raised her head so that he could seize her gaze. He didn’t drop his hand as he probably should’ve. “I told you yesterday that if there was anything wrong, you should come to me.”

  “And I should come to you about sleep deprivation?”

  “There’s more to it than that, Jaime.”

  She lounged back into her seat, moving out of his hold before she did something dumb, like lick his hand to find out if he tasted as good as he smelled. “I can assure you, there isn’t.”

  “Why am I not convinced?”

  “Because you’re paranoid from all the crack pipes?”

  He leaned forward, still holding her gaze. “Tell me.”

  “Look, even if there was anything to tell, I’m not the kind of person who likes to share, okay.” Like him, he mused. That should have been enough for him to drop it, but he couldn’t. Even if he’d wanted to, his protective instincts wouldn’t have let him—not when it came to Jaime. Even when she was a cutely plump, annoying little kid who’d followed him around, he’d been protective of her; seeing her being constantly targeted by bullies had reminded him of exactly what he was forced to deal with at home with his brothers. “If you don’t tell me what the problem is, I can’t help.”

>   “I don’t want your help.”

  “Well you’re getting it, baby.”

  That endearment shouldn’t have made something clench low in her stomach, but it did. “Come on, Dante, you must know the drill by now. You pester me, and I ignore you.” His mouth curved into a grin. “You really think I’ll be put off that easily? Oh, Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. What you have to understand is that I am vigilant in protecting my wolves. If I think one of them needs protecting—even from themselves—then I’ll see to that. It’s what I do and it’s who I am.

  You can lie to me as much as you want, but I’ll know, and I’ll just keep on asking until you talk.” She put her hand over her heart. “Wow, I almost gave a fuck.” His grin widened. “You are one stubborn little shit.”

  “Not stubborn, just determined.” The waitress returned then with their drinks, once again eyeing Dante like he was a snack. Again, he paid her no attention, which Jaime quite liked.

  “No, you’re stubborn,” he insisted when the waitress was gone. “But guess what? I’m more stubborn. Now, tell me what’s got you so stressed.” When she said nothing, he pressed. “Jaime.” Just like yesterday, the pull in his voice to answer him, to give him what he wanted, sent pleasant tingles down her spine. There was that dominance and assertiveness that had females flocking around him. As much as she wished it wasn’t a turn-on, it damn well was. She liked dominance in a male as long as they understood and accepted that she had a rebellious streak a mile long. She imagined that Dante would know just how to handle it in the bedroom. Quickly she shut the door on that thought.

  “Tell me.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re upset. I don’t like it. I want to fix it.” He wanted to see her bright and lively again, wanted whatever weight she was carrying gone from her shoulders.

  “I’ve just had a rough day. People have them all the time, you know.”

  “Maybe if you went on a run later it would help. I noticed you didn’t go on the pack run. Your wolf has to be going crazy.”

  Crazy? Well, yeah, she was definitely that. Had been for a while. “Maybe I will later.” Without thought, he reached out and wound a strand of her hair around his finger like he’d often imagined doing. “So soft.” The smell of her vanilla shampoo tickled his senses. “I like your hair long. You used to always have it short.”

  “Thanks,” mumbled Jaime, a little thrown. Uncomfortable by the intensity in his gaze, she looked away, casually scanning the restaurant. She almost growled as her attention fell upon a particular female—a female who was glaring at her with utter hatred in her eyes as Dante fiddled with her hair. “Well, well, well, look who’s here.”

  Following her gaze, Dante growled. Glory. He was tempted to confront her—not harm her, he would never harm a female. But he was interested in ensuring that she understood just how pissed he was.

  “Don’t,” said Jaime gently, earning his attention. “All you’ll gain from it is losing our pack’s alliance with Nick. Let him deal with her.” In truth, Jaime wasn’t convinced that Nick would be able to do much. The fact was that Glory was a law unto herself.

  Jaime wasn’t a person who looked down on others, but with Glory it was impossible not to.

  The girl was kind of like a doorknob—everyone got a turn. That, combined with her penchant for spreading false gossip and her love of stealing other people’s boyfriends, made for a very toxic person.

  “How come you never did that whole ‘I told you so’?” She had told him so, had warned him that Glory was poisonous and he’d do better to avoid her. His own instincts had told him that, too.

  But he’d been so hot and hard for the female sitting opposite him, and he’d needed a reprieve. Glory had happened to be there when he most needed it.

  “I figure you’ve learned your lesson without me rubbing salt in the wound. Besides, it wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t listen. You’ve always thought with your dick.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “In that case, do you wanna blow my mind?”

  Jaime smiled. “You got that from Dominic, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe.” He laughed.

  That gruff laugh was like a caress. God, how pitiful was she to be lusting after someone who didn’t want her! Maybe she could have gotten past it if it wasn’t more like a craving than a lusting. It reminded her of that feeling she got when she was unbelievably hungry and all she could think about eating was chocolate; that always made no sense to her, as it wasn’t like chocolate would ease the hunger or was good for her, and yet still she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Only instead of the hunger being in her belly, it was somewhere much lower, and instead of chocolate, it was Dante.

  Thankfully, he seemed to accept that she wasn’t going to answer his questions and simply drove her back to pack territory. Or, at least, he seemed to accept it for now. No doubt he’d do as he said and pester her. While she was confident that she wouldn’t let anything slip, she still couldn’t help but worry that he would catch her at an extremely weak moment—like when she was so damn aroused that he’d be able to smell it and all she’d be able to think about was jumping on him. Her objective would have to be to spend as little time with him as possible, she decided. That and address her hungry libido this weekend before she broke down and assaulted him.

  After three days of nothing more than polite smiles and having Jaime expertly avoid his company and questions, Dante was at a point where he wanted nothing more than to strap Jaime to a chair and torture her secret out of her. He could liken his experiences with Jaime to the act of holding a fish—it was smaller and weaker and therefore should be easy to grab and restrain, but it had a way of slipping out of his grip and going on its merry way.

  Whereas in the beginning his motive to uncover her secret had been concern, the whole thing was now more of an obsession. It hadn’t been long before his frustrations had overridden his males-shouldn’t-intimidate-females ethic. And what had she done in response when he demanded that she tell him? Patted him on the head and sang, “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?” The female was killing him.

  Her attempts to avoid him were helped along by how demanding his job was. Still, each afternoon over the past three days he’d turned up at the dog sanctuary to take her to lunch. Each time she had avoided him. The first day he had arrived to find out that she had left early and gone to lunch with Pretty Boy. The second day she had eaten an hour before and was working the afternoon to cover someone else’s shift. Today she had arranged to go for lunch with her female coworkers for one of their birthdays. What could he say to that? It was only later that he wondered whether it truly had been anyone’s birthday. Taking into account Jaime’s sly streak, probably not.

  His patience was wearing thin. Too damn thin. Making it worse, he had to watch Dominic flirt like crazy with her all the time. He knew they were just playing and that nothing would come of it, but it pissed off his battered ego just the same. Marcus had picked up on how annoying Dante found it, and his response had been to begin flirting with Jaime, too. And Marcus was good at flirting. He could make even the mated females blush. Jaime was unfortunately no exception. Although she didn’t give Marcus any encouragement, she didn’t dis courage him either. Dante’s ego was having a real bad time with it—not to mention his wolf, who had serious issues with both Dominic and Marcus right now.

  Increasing Dante’s agitation, she was still driving that tin can of a car every day. Each morning he had instructed her not to take it, she had given him a “whatever you say” look, and then she’d gone and done what the hell she wanted to anyway. In short, there was simply no controlling her. As a person who was used to being obeyed and having his orders respected, Dante didn’t know how to deal with this female.

  Likewise, he didn’t know how to deal with the raw cravings he was experiencing or the unfamiliar twinges of possessiveness and jealousy. Furthermore, he was beginning to find her intriguing on a nonsexual level. Dante di
dn’t do nonsexual levels. He was pissed with both himself and her about the whole thing. So when he saw her unlocking the tin can later that evening, something in him snapped. “Didn’t I tell you not to drive that thing?” Surprised, Jaime jumped, and slowly turned to face the pain in the ass stalking toward her. She sighed tiredly. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “I told you, it’s not safe,” he insisted, coming close. “It’ll be better if someone takes you wherever you’re going and picks you up afterward. In fact, I’ll do it myself.” He gestured to the SUV

  beside her car. “Come on. Where are you going?”

  “It’s really not necessary.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Shit, that voice. It pulled at her, demanded compliance. As usual, Jaime’s body immediately responded to the dominance that coated it—her pulse went into overdrive and her clit decided hey, what the hell, I will, too. Her need for him beat at her insides, at every defense she had against his raw masculinity. “I’m meeting up with Shawn.” She almost jumped again at his growl. “Dante, you really do need to get over your problem with him.”

  She was probably right, but Dante couldn’t. The thought of her with the human had anger ripping through him. Images of Pretty Boy kissing her, touching her, being inside her, were flicking around his head and threatening his legendary self-control—control which had been tested by this female too many times over the past few days.

  Making it worse, his wolf was clawing at him, raging at the idea of her and Pretty Boy together. As far as his wolf was concerned, no one else had a right to touch her. Feeling the extent of his wolf’s possessiveness only infuriated Dante more. When it came to Jaime Farrow, he was no more in control of his wolf than he was of her. Currently his fingers were tingling with the need to touch her. He wanted to take that mouth, to plunder it with his tongue just as he wanted to plunder her body with his cock.