by Kate Douglas
Of course, it didn’t fall in the sensual way she’d hoped, mainly because she’d been so freaked out about what Evan might be thinking that she’d wrapped it around herself really tight and, with Evan holding her close, it stuck there, in place. She raised her arms and held on to his broad shoulders, lifted herself against him.
She heard the quick intake of his breath, knew realization had finally hit that she was no longer holding on to the towel. He slipped his hands beneath the soft terry, cupped his palms under her bare bottom, and lifted her even higher, pushing the towel out of the way, managing to stroke her hips and thighs with one hand while holding her entire weight with the other.
He was chuckling by the time he freed her of the towel, untangling it first from around her breasts, pausing to enjoy the view until she felt herself growing languid beneath his intense gaze. Then he tugged the towel down her legs, though it still hung off her left foot. “Next time,” he said, “I’m giving you a smaller towel.”
Laughing, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself close to his flat stomach. Evan actually groaned when she rubbed herself against the line of dark hair running from his navel to the waistband of his sweats. He turned, holding her close, still dragging the towel behind them, and stopped beside the bed. Gently, he leaned over and deposited her right in the middle of the sleek down comforter.
The towel was still tangled around her foot.
“This has got to go!” Laughing, he tugged the towel out from under her foot and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. Then he straightened and slipped the sweats down over his hips. Kicked them off and to one side.
Darnell feasted her eyes on the body she’d not seen before. There was no denying the facts—he took her breath. Tall and strong, shoulders broad and muscular, the thickness of his thighs emphasizing the lean hips and the dark mat of hair at his groin. His cock was absolutely perfect, fully erect, curving out and up, larger than any she’d ever seen.
Not that she’d seen all that many. She almost laughed, thinking of where she was now after her nerves this morning about actually coming, uninvited, to chase this man down. She couldn’t have imagined a better outcome to her day.
Raising her arms as Evan bent over her, Darnell stroked his broad shoulders. He studied her so intently, his expression one of need and something that made her feel warm and liquid and oh, so wanted by such a sexy, beautiful man.
He planted his knee on the bed beside her. “I want you, Darnell. You and only you. There were so many women who came through as guests this year, and none of them were you. I’ve been wanting to call, to beg you to come back, but I didn’t think you felt the same way. I’m hoping this means you do. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Warmth blossomed inside. “I’m here, and you’re going to have to physically remove me from the property if you don’t want me around. I’ve never missed a man before, Evan. Never cared enough about any man to miss him the way I’ve missed you.” She laughed, but it was a soggy laugh and she really didn’t want to cry. Not now. She ran her fingers over his cheek, traced the line of his jaw.
He came fully onto the bed, kneeling between her legs and then sitting back on his heels.
She ran her fingers along his sides, touching the sharp jut of ribs. “All I kept thinking was that if I hadn’t been so insistent that I had to have that stupid drink, we might have spent the night discovering what we felt, might have spent the whole summer together.”
His soft smile warmed her. His words made her hot.
“I can tell you now, girl. I want more than just a summer. I think I’m going to want a whole lot of summers.” He leaned forward, dipped his head, and tongued her left nipple, then the right.
She arched into him, pressed her pubes against the thick length of him, and shivered with need. “I want you. Now, Evan.”
“No.” He sat back on his heels again, grinning broadly. “Not yet.”
Before she had a chance to complain, he was sliding back between her legs, leaning close and nibbling at her inner thighs. Her breath caught as he moved closer, his tongue trailing between her legs, carefully separating the petals of her sex and using his lips to pull and tug at the sensitive folds. He grasped her nipples, tugging them almost to the point of pain, sending jolts of pleasure directly to her clit.
Writhing against him, whimpering with the need he built with each flick of his tongue, each tug on her swollen nipples, she arched her back, lifting herself closer to his mouth. He took her thrusting hips as an open invitation, it appeared. With fingers and tongue, teeth and lips, he kept her hanging over a chasm promising untold pleasure.
Perspiration covered her body. She twisted, pressing against his mouth, pleading her frustration, laughing when he teased and took her just a bit closer. Then he ran his tongue around her clit and sucked that bundle of nerves between his lips, thrusting two large fingers deep into her moist channel. When he curled them forward, her body froze in mid-twist and a single low cry escaped her lips. For a moment she actually wondered where the sound had come from.
Planting her feet on the bed, Darnell lifted herself to his mouth, grasping the soft down comforter in her hands, twisting, gasping short, sharp sounds as he launched her into that chasm. She wasn’t afraid—Evan was there when she landed, holding her in his arms, bringing her back, showing her with hands and lips and his beating heart just how very much she meant to him.
He laid her back against the tangled comforter, sheathed himself, and slowly, carefully, entered her. He was thick and long and bigger than any man she’d ever been with, but he filled her perfectly as her feminine muscles tightened around him, pulled him deeper.
She sighed when the coarse hair at his groin pressed against her pubes, when the thick head of his cock rolled over the mouth of her cervix, amazed that he actually fit so well.
Almost as if they’d been created for each other. She looked up at him, at the face she’d seen in her dreams for four long months, and realized that she hadn’t been wrong. This man was hers, and she wasn’t letting him go.
* * *
Darnell slept so soundly that when Evan picked her up to put her under the comforter she didn’t even stir. He’d lost track of how many times they’d made love. He was going to have to stock up on condoms if they kept up like this, and he wondered how long he’d have to wait before asking her to be his.
She looked exactly the way he’d imagined she would, lying in his bed, her lips pursed in sleep. He wanted to kick his own ass for not going after her when she’d left so many months ago.
But maybe this was better. Maybe the separation helped chase away any questions that might have lingered in either of their minds, if they’d not had the chance to think about what almost might have been. But now it was, and it felt absolutely right.
Somehow, during the time they’d been making love, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and night had fallen. He went into the bathroom and got a quick shower, dried himself off, and crawled into bed beside Darnell. He’d almost called her Nellie tonight.
That was probably something he’d have to spring on her when she was ready to hear exactly how much she meant to him. And how he truly hoped to make her his—quite literally—forever.
Chapter 5
Elle stood and grabbed Tuck’s hand. They’d been sitting here at the bar since Chelo had been offered provisional status, but it was growing late. “Tuck and I had a long day, Chelo, so if you want to go back to town we can take you now, or you’re welcome to stay here for the night. We’ve got plenty of empty cabins and I speak for all of us when I say we’d love for you to stay.”
Trak shook his head. “You two get some rest. I can give Chelo a ride back if that’s what she prefers.”
Chelo stood and wrapped her arms around Elle. “Thank you. Elle, thank you so much for caring. All of you.” She turned to include Trak. “You are showing me an entirely different way of life, and I will be forever grateful.” Tuck wrapped his arm around Elle, b
ut he leaned close and kissed Chelo on the cheek.
“I’m glad we found you,” he said. “You’ve been without a healthy pack your entire life. I think you’ll be a good fit for this crowd.”
When they left, the bar felt terribly intimate. Chelo wasn’t quite sure where to sit, what to say. Elle was so full of life, and Tuck was obviously head over heels in love with his mate. It was a beautiful thing to watch, but now Elle was gone and she was here alone with Trak. She wasn’t afraid, but there was a different sort of tension in the air. An unfamiliar sense of . . . something.
Trak stood. “Why don’t you help me close up the bar and then we can go back to the lodge, see if the party’s still going on. I’d like to let the rest of the pack know that you’re going to be joining us as soon as the formalities are over.” He gathered his beer bottle and a couple of glasses off the table.
Chelo cleared the plates—they’d finished off all the sandwiches and she’d had a second margarita, but that had been hours ago. Now they cleared the table and she wiped it down while Trak loaded everything in the dishwasher behind the bar. He locked the cash box in a safe in the small office in back, checked to make sure everything was turned off, and then followed Chelo out the door and carefully locked it behind him.
The night was dark with just a quarter moon on the horizon. Trak took her hand and they followed the road back to the lodge. So much had happened tonight; so much was still happening. She never could have imagined walking hand in hand with the Trinity Alps pack alpha, knowing that he had welcomed her into his pack even though she’d told him she was a risk, that Rube was probably still hunting for her.
She was so tired of running. She thought of her parents. They would have found Henri’s body, but they never would have known what happened to her. That was so many years ago, and yet their faces were still clear to her. Oddly, Henri’s not so much. She’d loved him, but they were together such a short time. His death had, in many ways, been her death as well.
She was not the woman he’d married. Would never again be that simple girl on a small farm in the north country.
“You seem sad, Chelo.” Trak stopped and turned, took both her hands in his. “Do you want me to take you back to town?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes when she shook her head. “No. I don’t want to leave here at all.”
“Good.”
His emphatic answer startled her. She raised her head and caught him looking at her with almost a sense of longing. But that couldn’t be right. He hardly knew her and what he did know was all the ugly stuff. “But where . . . ?”
“I want you to stay, Chelo. You’re safe here and no one will harm you. Ever. I’m concerned about Rube finding you if you’re alone in town. We need to figure out where he is and essentially neutralize the problem at some point, but for now I want you to know you’re welcome to stay. I want you to stay. There are rooms in the lodge or, if you prefer more privacy, we can give you one of the cabins for now, though they’re all going to be filled midweek for the wedding.”
She smiled. She’d totally forgotten about the wedding! “It’s late. I’m not ready to sleep yet. I’m still pretty wound up.”
He tugged her hand and they started walking toward the lodge again. “I’ve got the perfect solution. C’mon.”
The lodge was dark when they were close enough to see it through the trees. Only a small lamp inside cast a soft golden glow across the large dining room. The party had obviously ended. Trak led her across the parking lot and up the stairs. The door was unlocked and they entered the empty lodge, but he obviously had a destination in mind. He went behind the bar at the back of the dining area and came out with a bottle of dark red wine, the cork shoved halfway in.
“I think you’ll like this. Come back to my cabin. I’ve got an extra room where you can stay, and I promise you’re safe from me. I’m not like those men you’re accustomed to. You can sleep in the guest room—it has a lock on the door—when you’re ready for bed, but until then we can sit in the main room or even out on the deck and have a glass of port. It will help you relax and I can guarantee you a good night’s sleep.”
She might be crazy to take him up on his offer, but he was the nicest man she’d met since becoming a shifter. “That works,” she said, acting as nonchalant as she was able.
She couldn’t imagine Trak forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to do, and she wasn’t ready to leave him. Not yet. He was absolutely fascinating—tall and handsome, and strong looking. He wasn’t as physically big as Tuck, but the sense of power around Trak was intimidating all on its own.
“Good.” Trak took her hand again and they walked back down the road toward the bar and then veered off to the right on a much narrower trail.
They followed it about a hundred yards before coming out into a small meadow with an absolutely lovely cabin set against the forest. Tall cedar and pine trees framed the structure and there was a full deck that appeared to circle the entire cabin, similar to the one at the lodge. A soft light glowed from within; pale moonlight threw shadows across the clearing in front.
The cabin was so perfect, the way it was nestled in front of the tall trees, as if it were part of the woods. “It’s beautiful,” she said, taking in the attractive deck, the heavy stone foundation, and the natural logs that made up the main structure. A fireplace and chimney of the same river-worn rocks as the foundation covered one corner, and she imagined a snowy winter’s eve with a fire crackling inside, warming the cozy cabin.
Tonight, though, was much too warm for a fire. It was a perfect night to run, but no one had mentioned shifting and racing the moon, maybe because it was waning and barely more than a sliver. She’d had so few chances to actually enjoy her wolven nature.
Trak tugged her toward the cabin. “Come see the inside. It’s really comfortable.”
“It’s perfect.” She glanced at him, loving the pride in his voice, the fact that he was obviously enjoying showing her his home.
“I built it with help from Lawson, my older brother. You met him earlier this afternoon. He’s an engineer—quite successful, actually—and real handy when trying to build a home that fits all the county regulations.” He chuckled softly. “Not something we used to have to worry about, but my other place wasn’t nearly as well-built and it was time for a new one. When we applied for permits for the cabins for Feral Passions, we added this and homes for the others in the pack to the proposal.”
He shoved open the front door and followed her through. The light she’d seen earlier was over the gas range in the kitchen, a beautiful dark bronze stove that matched the other appliances. She’d never seen anything like it before. This was obviously a much wealthier pack than the one she’d left.
“Do you want to sit on the deck or inside?”
“The deck, I think. It’s too beautiful out tonight to come inside yet. If that’s okay with you.”
“Definitely.”
He let go of her hand and went into the kitchen, which was all part of one big room with a dining area and comfortable chairs around a big-screen television. Stairs led to rooms upstairs and what appeared to be an office or extra bedroom on the ground floor. The furnishings were all beautifully made from what looked like native woods. The same craftsmanship was visible wherever she looked. Beautiful original paintings of wolves and other wildlife covered the walls.
“Here we go.” Trak handed two wineglasses to Chelo and grabbed the bottle. She followed him back to the deck and they took seats by a small table. Trak poured wine for each of them and handed a partially filled glass to her.
He held his glass up in a toast. Flustered, she wasn’t sure what to do with hers, but then she copied him and laughed when he touched the two goblets together. The ringing sound they made was sweeter than any bell she’d ever heard.
“Welcome to the Trinity Alps pack, Chelo.”
When he smiled, she loved how his eyes smiled, too. He was obviously a powerful alpha and his pack loved him, but there w
as nothing cruel about him, no sense that he was looking for a way to dominate her, to make her feel less than she really was.
“I am really glad you’ve come to us.” He shook his head and actually looked confused for a moment. “I feel a connection to you, but I’m not sure what it is. Only that it’s something I hope we can explore as you grow more comfortable with us. With me.”
He took a sip of his wine. “Taste it. I’m curious to see what you think.”
She took a sip and held the liquid in her mouth, savoring his unexpected words along with the unfamiliar taste of the wine. She’d never heard of port.
She’d never had a man speak to her the way Trak did. As if she had value. As if he cared about her feelings. “This is good,” she said, thinking that everything about Traker Jakes was good. She was thankful for the glass in her hand. Something to focus on besides her swirling thoughts. “It’s really good. I don’t know anything about wine, but I really like this one.”
Laughing softly, she set her glass down. “I’m not much of a drinker, and after two margaritas today and now this?”
Shaking her head, she stared at the wine. The glass wavered, blurred, and she realized she was crying. So embarrassing! Wiping her eyes with both hands, she turned away, but Trak was there in a heartbeat, kneeling beside her chair with his big hands holding her thighs.
“Chelo? What’s wrong? Did I say . . . ?”
“No.” She interrupted him before he could apologize. There was nothing for him to apologize for. She was the one who was losing it. “Nothing you’ve done.” She hiccupped. “Well, actually, it’s everything you’ve done, but it’s all good.”
She took the handkerchief he handed to her. It was still damp, the one he’d given her when she’d had her meltdown at the bar, telling her story. She never cried, but as she wiped her eyes suddenly she was laughing and crying at the same time while Trak knelt at her feet looking totally confused, studying her as if she were absolutely crazy.
Maybe she was. This entire day had been a dream and she was so afraid she’d wake up and find out none of it was real. But it had to be real. It just had to.