by Spear, Terry
His lips swept over her cheek and they were soft and masculine. She turned to look at him, to see his expression. His eyes were dark with interest. He leaned down and kissed her mouth, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to press her breasts against his chest, wanting to crush her body against his.
She barely registered that he’d lifted her in his arms and carried her into the house, slamming the door behind them. He stalked toward her bedroom, not pausing at his room, but she still wasn’t certain what he was going to do. Leave her in her room alone so she could sleep? Join her in the bed?
He laid her on her bed and looked down at her with such longing that she was certain he wanted to stay with her as much as she wanted him to.
“Tell me I’m out of line and I’ll leave without a whimper,” he said.
“I could never see you whimpering.”
“A growl, then.” He gave her the most devilishly sexy look.
“Stay with me,” she said, reaching for her zipper.
“Gladly.” His voice was filled with lustful need as he yanked his T-shirt over his head.
This was what she’d wanted as soon as he’d kissed her in Catherine’s kitchen, black face paint and all.
Not a mating, she thought. But she wasn’t wearing jeans and a shirt to bed. Naked probably wasn’t a good idea either.
She unfastened her zipper, yanked down her jeans and tossed them aside, then climbed under the covers. She meant to pull off her shirt, but she hesitated.
He removed his boots, socks, and jeans. Wearing only his briefs, he climbed into bed with her.
She was going to take off her shirt, but he moved in next to her, ran his hand underneath the fabric, and cupped a lace-covered breast, making her feel sexy.
Especially when he pulled the lace down and exposed her breast, his hand rubbing against it and making her nipple grow erect. He suddenly stopped, and she nearly growled at him, but he lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it. And then he quickly unhooked her bra and pitched it over the side of the bed.
His mouth latched on to her nipple, and she was rethinking the mating scenario, whether he left her behind while he went on missions or not. Just his mouth closing around her nipple was enough to make her come off the bed, but then he used his wicked tongue on the sensitive flesh, and she groaned out loud.
“You shouldn’t have run off,” he said, moving his seductive mouth to hers.
Before he could press his lips against hers, she said, “Ditto.”
He smiled against her mouth, and then he began kissing her possessively, yet waiting to ensure she wanted this as much as he did. She did. She cupped his head and held on for dear life, kissing him like this was the end of the world and they were meant to be together.
She wasn’t sure what he had in mind to do, how far he wanted to take this, but she knew what she wanted. She slid her fingers underneath the waistband of his briefs and began stroking his ass.
His lips paused against hers with that wickedly hot grin, and then he was on his knees, pulling off her panties and tossing them aside.
She thought to say something about waiting to mate, or that she loved him, but she was afraid she was jumping the gun. Instead she soaked in the hot and sexy way he was making her feel as he licked at her nipple again, then lower, down her belly. His tongue curled into her navel, and she was about to come unglued. Until he took a deep breath of her aroused scent mingling with his and began to stroke her already swollen nub.
She was so keyed up with him touching her, so caught up in the feelings swamping her. She wanted all of him, not just a teasing simulation of where this could lead. The mating, the commitment for life, all of it, now.
Slow down, she told herself, but she was already yanking off his briefs so she could see the arousal that she had encouraged, loving the beautiful sight of him—all wolf in human form, strong, muscular, SEAL and wolf man combined. And what a devilishly hot combination that was.
He was hers, she decided. He’d never mate any other wolf. She wasn’t letting him go.
“Lori,” he said, his voice husky, making her name sound as if it was the most beautiful word he could manage to get out. Then he was leaning down to kiss her mouth again and stroking her to completion. This time she let herself go, quit analyzing everything between them, and gave in to that happy conclusion that had her writhing at his practiced touch and crying out with release.
She wanted him to join her, to mate her in the worst way, her body thrumming with the most delicious climax. Yet, again she was torn, not wanting him to reject or put her off.
She sighed, wrapped her hand around his cock, and began to stroke him. He kissed her mouth, which was all he needed to do to let her know he wasn’t willing to go any further. At least not yet.
Lori wasn’t ready for a mating, Paul knew. Even if she smelled like she was, and her eyes and lips said she was.
Was he? He wasn’t certain. For now, this was damned good. Even to get this close. This was near to heaven.
She appeared to enjoy stroking him and watching his expression as she worked him hard, pulling on his every sense, pushing him to the end, to completion, and making him spill his seed all over her.
She smiled at him. “Mmm.”
He smiled back and carried her into the bathroom to shower. Together.
* * *
Paul and Lori had cuddled the rest of the night in her bed after showering. He decided that if they didn’t mate soon, he wasn’t going to last. How would it sound for an alpha SEAL wolf to beg?
For now, he just loved being with her as her breath lightly caressed his chest. Then he began to wonder what they were supposed to do today. He didn’t remember what was next on the agenda until he heard Allan drive up in the old Pinto—the one he left at the cabin until he returned from missions—and parked.
Both Lori and Paul groaned as he realized he had to leave the she-wolf behind and hurry while he grabbed his clothes and dressed. By the time he reached the front door to let Allan in, his SEAL buddy was grinning. “Looks like you had kind of a rough night.”
Paul should have run a comb through his hair. He heard Lori in the kitchen and was damn glad she was quick.
But then Allan’s smirk turned to concern. “Not having nightmares still, are you?”
Hell no. Not with spooning Lori the rest of the night. He’d only had thoughts of her when he’d awakened. Hot, sexy, wanting-to-do-it-all-over-again thoughts.
“I’m fine,” he said, not wanting to discuss why he was fine.
Allan was studying him. They hadn’t moved from the deck and Paul closed the door. “So how did your dates go?”
Allan smiled again. “Probably not half as great as being with Lori has been. I mean, working with her. You know.”
Yeah, Allan had guessed there was more going on than he was saying. Paul leaned over the deck and looked out across the water. He loved it here. He could see staying here with Lori. He could see… Well, he could see being mated to her. He realized he’d never thought there would be anyone else in her life, just like he’d never imagined anyone else in his.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I am.” Paul didn’t want to tell him that talking to Lori had made all the difference in the world to him, again.
“Okay. How about Lori? Emma? About Lee Greypaw?”
“They’re fine. I talked to Emma and she’s sad but relieved he’s finally going to be put to rest with the others in the pack. We need to call her when we’re ready to drive over there. She still has the pine casket she had made so long ago for him, stored in the storage shed. We’ll go over after we get dressed, bury him, and say our good-byes to him.”
Lori poked her head out of the door and greeted Allan, though she still looked rather tumbled herself. So much for her being quick at getting ready in a hurry. Allan considered
her thoughtfully, then smiled a little. “Morning. Heard you made some tasty, homemade huckleberry jam.”
They enjoyed breakfast and the company as Lori good-naturedly grilled Allan about his dates with the women the last two nights. Allan told about the fun he’d had, glancing at Paul from time to time. Paul knew he wanted to ask about how Lori and Paul were getting on. But he knew enough not to broach the subject as Paul eyed him with a warning look.
Allan smiled even more. “Food was delicious,” he said and finished the last bite of his egg.
“Thank you. We’ll feed you again sometime, I promise.” She took their plates to the kitchen. “I’ll clean up while you dive.”
Paul hoped she wouldn’t be too upset when they brought her grandfather’s bones up. It was one thing to rationalize it, another to see the evidence of his demise.
Everyone had been close to Lee Greypaw, had listened to him recalling the adventurous tales of his youth, including one of finding a wolf cub in a flooded den that the parents couldn’t reach, rescuing it as a young boy, and then raising the cub. The rest of his tribe wouldn’t permit the wolf to come into camp, so he had lived outside the camp. From then on, his kin had called Lee “Runs with Wolves.”
Every time Lee went on raiding parties against another Native American tribe to steal their horses, the wolf warned him when danger was near, saving his life twice when he was young. But wolves had to follow their natural inclinations, so the cub grew into a mature wolf and left Lee and found a mate. He still returned to visit Lee, but the female wouldn’t approach. And then they had cubs of their own and left the area.
Lee had taught the children in the lupus garou pack that they were brothers to the wolves and to treat them with respect. He’d been a storyteller at heart and Paul had loved to hear his tales. He missed Lee’s stories and how he’d taught the children of the pack to fight and move stealthily through the woods as humans. He had been a wonderful mentor, patient and understanding.
Allan also was quiet when they walked down to the water, following Paul’s lead, both of them carrying soft brushes, mesh diver bags, and their flashlights. They heard the roar of a motorboat headed in their direction, and Paul glowered at the driver who sped past, too close to shore for the rate of speed he was going. Paul couldn’t make out who was in the boat, just three men with baseball caps on their heads, the two in the back looking away from the dock. The driver was focused on the front as the boat kicked up water and waves, and sent them crashing into the dock.
“If we weren’t diving for bones, I’d call the sheriff’s office and report them,” Allan said.
“You and me both.”
They got into the water and then made their descent. After swimming a short distance, Paul motioned to where the wolf’s bones were. Allan nodded and swam over to their location, then began removing them from the sediment.
Paul swam over to where Lee’s skeletal remains were and carefully, reverently began to collect his bones, knowing Lori’s grandfather’s spirit had long ago left them. Yet, Paul treated them with respect. When he had gathered all that he could find, he swam over to see if Allan was done. He motioned to the surface, indicating he’d also found all he could. Using up the maximum time they could safely spend on the dive, they headed for the surface, pausing every twenty feet for a couple of minutes to decompress properly. They were still ten feet from the surface when they heard the roar of a boat headed their way.
Surely it couldn’t be the same reckless idiot who had passed them more than an hour ago.
Then the engine slowed down and they saw the boat idling by the dock. Hell. Now what? Each of them had a skeleton in his bag.
When they surfaced, they realized the driver of the boat was Dusty Cooper, along with his brother, Howard, and the other ranch hand, Jerome, who had been at the auction.
Lori was talking to them, arms folded across her waist. She’d seen Paul and Allan surface, her gaze shifting that way for a second, but then she quickly ignored them as if they hadn’t been there, giving them cover in case the cowboys decided to get really reckless and try to run them over.
“I heard you were still up here at the cabin.” Dusty got out of the boat and stepped onto the dock.
Paul was itching to climb out of the water and knock the bastard into it.
“I’m still working on fixing the place up,” Lori said coolly.
“Do you want me to come over and help you?”
A red hawk soared overhead screaming kee-eeee-arr for two to three seconds as if warning her that the men were danger.
“No. Thanks.”
Dusty couldn’t be serious after what he’d done to her necklace.
“Paul is still helping me. Allan came by to lend a hand too. So we’re doing fine and I don’t need your help.”
She sounded as pissed off as Paul felt.
“So where are they? Up at the cabin working? We saw them on the dock getting ready to scuba dive, so it doesn’t look like they’re doing much work for you.”
Paul motioned to Allan, and they disappeared beneath the water.
Lori knew that Paul would be just as pissed at Dusty as she was, but since Paul wasn’t able to help her if she riled up Dusty, she continued to play it cool. Not that she wasn’t ready to use a jujitsu move to take him down if he tried anything. But she was certain the other two would get involved, and she couldn’t handle all three of them at once.
Dusty glanced down at the necklace that she was proudly wearing around her neck. The notion that he had ripped it from her and tossed it into the lake aggravated her all over again.
“Paul retrieved it from the lake for me. Wasn’t that nice of him? After you threw it into the water, and I was afraid I’d lost it for good. I’ve got work to do. See you around.” Lori didn’t trust Dusty. He knew Paul and Allan were in the water, yet he’d barreled toward the dock without regard to speed regulations or the divers’ safety. She hoped Allan and Paul stayed way below the surface of the water so that if Dusty barreled out of here, they would be safe. She was afraid to look out at the lake to see where they were now and give their location away. Instead, she turned and headed back to the house.
She prayed Paul and Allan were able to dive deep enough to stay out of harm’s way.
“Maybe we can see a movie or something sometime,” Dusty called out to her.
She ignored him and listened to him climb back into the boat. It seemed strange that the three cowboys were riding a boat across the lake, instead of galloping across a range on their ponies. She wondered where they’d gotten the boat. They yelled, “Yee-haw!” and then tore off across the lake toward where Paul and Allan had been swimming.
She turned then and watched the boat speed away. Her heart racing, she dashed back down the steps and ran down the dock. When she reached the end, she saw a hand grasp the edge.
“Paul? Allan?”
“It’s me,” Paul said and set his bag on the dock.
Allan followed behind him and also deposited his bag.
“Where were you when that idiot peeled out of here?” she asked.
“Underneath the dock. When he was talking to you, we swam underwater to reach the dock. The other two men must have been watching you and Dusty. Has he been hassling you since the day you were here together?” Paul asked, getting out of the water. “I thought you hadn’t seen him again.”
“I haven’t. I think this all had to do with you being up here. Maybe he was trying to learn if you were still staying here to help out.” She stared at the bags, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow. In their hearts, they’d known her grandfather had died with the rest of their pack members, but still, there’d always been a little bit of hope that he’d lost his way, and they’d find him some day. “Were you able to get all of them?”
“As many as we could find. We need to get these up to the house and secure them.” Paul took Lo
ri’s hand in a way that meant courtship and led her back toward the steps to the cabin.
She liked that. And she was past ready for it. She noted Allan’s smile when he saw them hand in hand. She really hadn’t expected Paul to show that much affection in front of Allan or anyone else in their pack yet, but she appreciated it more than he could know.
Allan agreed with Paul. “I wouldn’t put it past Dusty and his buddies to return to further harass you.”
“They’d been drinking. I saw a couple of six packs of empty beer cans lying on the floor of the boat. I’ll call Grandma and tell her we got Grandpa’s remains.”
They all headed up to the house while Lori made the call to Emma. “We’ve got Grandpa and the wolf. As soon as Paul and Allan get dressed, we’ll come out to your place and bury him.”
Once they had changed, Lori said, “My grandma had a couple of wolf farmers from the next county drive there and dig a hole for the coffin.”
“Is she okay?” Paul asked as he drove them to Emma’s home. Though she had acted fine the night before, she might be feeling bluer today. He glanced at the speed limit sign and slowed down a little, mindful of all traffic laws. They couldn’t afford to be caught with Lee’s bones. The sheriff’s department probably wouldn’t care about the wolf’s bones.
“Yeah, she’s saddened but relieved that he’ll be with the family.”
“Good.”
Emma lived out in the country and had thirty acres. Since the Greypaws had lived there forever, they had set up a cemetery for the wolf pack centuries ago. Rose, Catherine, and Emma were already there, waiting for them, when they arrived.
A wrought iron fence enclosed the graveyard, which was surrounded by woods to give their wolf pack members a feeling of being at home in their natural environment. Several of the families had been grouped together—a father with his six-year-old son, a mother with her three-year-old twin daughters—as a way to keep the families together even in death. Thankfully, Catherine and Emma had been able to hire farmers and men from a nearby town back then to dig the graves and make the pine boxes and granite headstones.