Rescued by the Wolf

by Kristal Hollis

  Rafe shook out his arms to cast off the antsy sting beneath his skin. The game ceased being fun when they passed the three-hour mark. Now they were pushing four with no runs scored in the last two innings.

  The catcher returned to home plate. Time-out completed, the pitcher tossed the ball and the catcher stepped to Brice’s right.

  Shaking his head, he stepped back from the plate and stretched. The irritation on his face matched Rafe’s own.

  Desperation, or something close to it, seized Rafe and a reckless plan formed in his mind. He stared hard at Brice. Although they couldn’t communicate telepathically in their human forms, Brice must’ve sensed something because he gave Rafe a slight nod.

  Rafe crouched into position.

  The pitcher, grinning like a man unaware all hell was about to break loose, lobbed another ball outside the batter’s box. Rafe sharpened his vision on the catcher’s hand.

  The moment the ball cleared the catcher’s fingers on the return throw, Rafe ran.

  The third baseman shouted the alarm. Cheers went up from the field and the crowd roared to its feet. Rafe swore above the ruckus he heard Grace yelling, “Run, Rafe, run! You can do it! I know you can!”

  The ball smacked the pitcher’s glove. He reared back and launched the ball like a cannon toward home. Adrenaline surged through Rafe’s veins, wide-open and full throttle. He needed every ounce of power to outrun the ball traveling more than a hundred miles per hour.

  The ball rocketed past the halfway mark. Rafe kept running. The catcher readied his mitt to swallow the screaming ball.

  Heart pounding, Rafe dove at the plate. With all the dirt flying in his face, he couldn’t see if he beat the ball home.

  “Safe,” the umpire yelled.

  “Thank God.” Rafe plopped his head on his arm.

  Seconds later, Brice jerked him to his feet and bear-hugged him. “We won! We won!”

  Tristan, Shane and the rest of the team swarmed. The crowd poured out of the bleachers and onto the field. Rafe bounced between teammates, the opposing team and the pack spectators. He endured handshakes, congratulatory pats and more than a few undesired butt pinches.

  “Grace?” Rafe sifted through the mass of people. “Grace!”

  Her scent rose above the myriad of smells.

  “Rafe!” Barely a whisper in the collective buzz, her voice pinged his auditory sense.

  The angst he experienced on the field seemed nothing more than a mild itch compared to the sharp-edged need that cut through him.

  Whether alarmed by the fervor in his eyes or the twisted snarl on his lips, people opened a path before him, only to fold in behind him. Relief swallowed his voice as Grace barreled into him.

  “I thought I’d never find you!” She threw her arms around his neck. Her breasts jostled his chest with each bounce of her happy little dance. “You were great! I knew you would run! I could feel it. Oh, my God! You won! You won the game.”

  Rafe’s heartbeat kept time with the discordant flounce of Grace’s ponytail. Funny how he’d notice such a random thing. One action totally irrelevant to the other, yet fully harmonized. He wondered what other synchronizations would manifest when the mate-bond fused them as one.

  It would happen, eventually. He could no longer deny the inevitable. Nor did he want to.

  His hands slipped down her back to cup the curve of her buttocks and he hoisted her against him.

  “What are you doing?” The hesitation in her big green eyes made him want to erase all her doubts, even though he shouldn’t.

  “Stealing a kiss. You’re the whole damn reason I stole home.” Rafe devoured her mouth.

  She clutched his shoulders, squeezed his hips between her thighs, pressed deeper into his chest and returned the kiss, claiming him with her lips, her tongue.

  Legs locked around him, she dragged her lips from his mouth, and branded him with each soft peck along his jaw. Her teeth grazed his earlobe and she nipped him.

  Fire licked through his veins. An undeniable need erupted in his core. The howling in his mind blocked any doubts about the future before they surfaced. Here and now, Grace was all that mattered.

  * * *

  Grace’s backside knocked against the door. Rafe’s hands roamed her body while his hot kisses seared a trail from her lips, beneath her jaw and along the column of her throat.

  After the game, they’d raced to his vehicle and returned to the resort. The Co-op festivities would last way into the night. She and Rafe had their own idea of festivities.

  They’d sprinted across an empty lobby to the elevator, stumbling into the car while lip-locked. If the ride to her floor had been a long one, they never would’ve made it with their clothes on.

  Rafe still had his tight uniform pants. She’d unbuttoned his shirt in the elevator but he wore his dark blue T-shirt beneath it.

  He’d tossed the cap she wore in the truck and pulled the band from her hair, which now hung loosely around her shoulders. Most of the buttons on her shirt were undone and his fingers made quick work of the last one.

  They stopped long enough to get the door open. Once inside the suite, Rafe kicked it closed. Both of his shirts came off at once.

  Grace slipped out of her blouse, kicked off her sandals and wriggled out of her shorts.

  Rafe toed off his shoes and stripped out of his clay-stained pants.

  “Aww, I wanted to see your ass strutting around in those tight pants.” Grace protruded her lower lip in a pout.

  “I’ll model them later.”

  He stalked toward her, naked. Fierce, determined, sexy. His eyes narrowed on her. “Did I give you that bruise?”

  He slipped off her bra strap, his fingers lightly tracing the dark purple mark on her shoulder.

  “I got it when I fell playing football with the boys.”

  “You should’ve told me you were hurt.” His voice sounded raw, edgy, a barely contained force.

  “I didn’t notice it until this morning. Don’t get upset. This boo-boo isn’t the first and won’t be the last.”

  He kissed the dark spot, then unfastened her bra and dropped it to the floor. He staggered kisses across the expanse of her neck.

  Goose bumps spread across her body. Rafe’s warm, calloused hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples to hard points.

  She loved the tender roughness of his touch. How could a man so wrong for her make her body feel so right for his?

  She turned in his arms and glided her hands down his bare chest, feeling the soft swirls of hair against her palms. His skin felt fever-hot.

  Her nerves snapped like fine wires. He seized her lips. She arched, rubbing every inch of her skin against his. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her to the bathroom and pulled off her panties before turning on the shower.

  “Really? A bath now?”

  “You making me hot and sweaty is one thing. Dirt and grime from the baseball game is another.” He stepped into the shower and held out his hand. “There’s room for two.”

  Grace joined him. He soaped her; she soaped him. The washing became a tickling game until he suddenly trapped her hands over her head and placed tiny kisses along her jaw and down her throat.

  A soft moan escaped her lips. “We can’t have sex without a condom.” Her voice lacked true conviction.

  He released her wrists to run his hands along her curves. His thumbs teased her nipples into two tight buds. He sucked one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nub until Grace whimpered with need. Then, he moved to suckle the other breast.

  “We can’t do this.” She twisted her fingers into his hair.

  He released her nipple and laved the valley between her breasts with his tongue. “Do what?”

  He licked the full curve beneath her breasts as his hands kneaded the flar
e of her hips.

  “Have sex without a condom,” she panted.

  “Sex can be many things.” Kneeling, he lapped the water rivulets running down her belly and into the strip crowning her mound.

  “Oh, God.” Her head thumped against the shower wall, her eyes closed. She wet her lips, slightly puffy from their aggressive kissing earlier.

  She wanted him so badly, she didn’t have the patience to go slow. If they were on the bed, she’d be riding him right now.

  As torturous as it was, she forced aside her urgency to enjoy him taking his sweet-ass time to savor every inch of her.

  He nudged her legs apart to kiss her mound. Her body jerked and she squeezed his shoulders for support. She dug her nails into the muscles in the back of his neck. He groaned and she wanted to say she was sorry if she’d hurt him, but all that came from her mouth was a guttural moan sounding nothing like an apology.

  Gripping the back of her thigh, he lifted her leg over his shoulder and licked her gently. Each stroke of his tongue felt like he was branding her as his own.

  Her hips quivered against his face when his tongue stroked her clit. Her moans deepened, became sultrier. She responded to his every touch, even when he simply breathed across her skin.

  The gnawing ache between her legs grew strong. She peeked through shuttered eyes. Rafe winked at her and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking in rhythm with the thumb on his other hand that was gliding over her clit.

  God, she wanted more. Needed more.

  “Rafe,” she moaned.

  Still fisting his cock, he withdrew the thumb teasing her opening and thrust his tongue inside her in a frantic rhythm.

  Grace ground her hips against his face. Her inner walls began to spasm and she cried out his name, followed by a long series of “yesses” that triggered his own release.

  As her breathing slowed and the ringing in her ears faded, Rafe placed kisses on her mound and inner thighs.

  Realizing she still had her fingers tangled in his hair, she relaxed her grip and released him. He eased her leg off his shoulder, made sure she was steady, then rose before her.

  “That was amazing.” She clasped his face.

  Rafe smiled.

  “Oh, my God! I didn’t think you could get any sexier than being naked, but wow. Naked and smiling, that’s almost too much to handle.”

  Rafe gave her a peck on the cheek, then reached to turn off the tepid shower spray. Shoving open the curtain, he grabbed a towel from the rack and rubbed it quickly over Grace’s body and then his own.

  He helped her out of the shower and whispered in her ear. “Now, I’m going to show you all the ways I like to be handled.”

  Chapter 31

  Laughter chasing her, Grace landed in the center of the mattress. Rafe stalked her on the bed, his movements stealthy and determined. The tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth took the edge off his fierce expression.

  He nudged her jaw, nipped her ear and nibbled her neck, making her feel like she was being tickled from the inside out.

  She clawed and wrestled and rolled him beneath her. He clasped her hips, urging her to mount him and ride.

  Tearing her mouth from his lips, she panted, “Wait.”

  Rafe balled his hands in the bedding, his body shaking. The madness of hunger and want and need swirled in his gaze. He gritted his teeth. “Hurry.”

  Grace reached for the condoms and took her sweet time peeling back the foil and rolling the latex sheath down his cock.

  Rafe’s muscles bunched and his body hardened from the strain of remaining still. “Good boy,” she teased, kissing him lightly on his lips.

  She guided him inside her on a sigh. With a slow grind, she slid up and down his length. “Breathe.”

  “I can’t,” he gulped, tilting his head back. “I...I—ah, hell.”

  Rafe grabbed her waist, and holding her tightly, he flipped her onto her back. A half squeal, half laugh escaped her throat.

  “Let’s see how you like being breathless.” Rafe thrust hard and deep, and Grace arched to take in all of him.

  She loved seeing his face in the soft glow of the table lamp next to the bed. No longer straitlaced and clean-cut, he wore a short beard along his jaw that framed his mouth. His tousled hair lent an air of wildness to his appearance.

  She liked him wild and free. In moments like this, there were no restraints, only raw desire and pure instinct.

  Part of her wanted to capture this part of his essence so she would always have it. Yet, if she did, it would be diminished by captivity.

  His hands roamed her possessively, laying claim to every inch of her body, freely surrendered to him.

  Eyes hooded, he studied her face and she wondered what he saw. She found him utterly beautiful, inside and out.

  Soon their fast and furious rhythm had them panting and sweating and shattering in ecstasy. He stilled. The changes in his face, a predatory fierceness softening to tender concern, mesmerized her as their breathing calmed.

  In the time-suspended moment, she felt his essence merge with hers. She had no other explanation for the feeling of absolute and utter completeness with him.

  It lasted only a fleeting moment and then dissipated. He kissed her sweetly and slowly withdrew. Grace curled on her side as he disposed of the condom.

  “You okay, sweetheart?” Rafe returned to bed and pulled her into his arms.

  “Uh-huh.” She yawned. “You, Mr. Wyatt, have tuckered me out.”

  “Then I suggest a power nap, Miss Olsen. The night is still young.”

  Grace snuggled against him, the warm curve of his body a perfect fit. Soon, the lulling rhythm of his breathing worked a tranquilizing magic.

  “Mine!” Rafe’s voice whispered through her mind as she surrendered to a peaceful sleep.

  * * *

  Rafe awoke, his every sense tuning to Grace’s soft, even breaths. She exasperated his control, turned him upside down, inside out and everything in between.

  God, he didn’t want to crave her the way he did.

  He was such a glutton for punishment and starved for companionship. But he’d take it, even if it only lasted for a little while.

  All wrong for him, Grace had no roots and wasn’t interested in putting any down, and Rafe certainly wasn’t interested in leaving Walker’s Run.

  The way she doted on Alex and his friends caused a desperate longing to coil in Rafe’s stomach. He didn’t want a substitute family, he wanted the real deal.

  He traced his lips over her bruised shoulder and skimmed her neckline to the sweet spot behind her ear. He breathed in her essence. God, how he loved her scent. A rich, buttery sweetness as intoxicating as his favorite bourbon. He’d have to quit her cold turkey, just like he had the booze, unless he convinced her to stay.

  If only he could be certain the truth of his dual nature wouldn’t scare her away. He should’ve told her the truth by now. Had intended to tell her last night at Walker’s Pointe. But, he’d chosen to couple with her instead of revealing himself because deep down, he was afraid. If she had rejected him, he would’ve missed one of the most spectacular experiences of his life.

  Aside from the ball-numbing orgasms he’d had making love to her, he liked this moment the most. When her guard was down and the mate-bond did its thing to weave their souls together. In the stillness of predawn, everything seemed perfect and right.

  He’d been a fool to think he could keep her at arm’s length. Brice had nailed it; the heart wanted what it wanted and there was no stopping it.

  He was falling in love with Grace and it scared the hell out of him.

  Grace had no interest in love and he didn’t know how long it would take for her to recognize the connection they had. He’d felt her emotional distress through the mate-bond when he politely told Loretta to find another m
oon-fuck partner.

  Grace had seen them and misinterpreted the encounter because of her trust issues.

  He didn’t want to be numbered among those who had disappointed her. He wanted to be the one who was always there when she needed him.

  If only she could need him for more than fetching a midnight snack or as a mere sex partner.

  The idea of no-strings-attached sex had seemed doable at the time. Now her scent was stamped into his nose, her taste branded on his tongue, her essence infiltrating his being.

  He was so screwed.

  Nothing he could do about it at the moment, so he snuggled her soft form tucked against him. He was almost asleep when his phone buzzed with a call from Brice.

  Rafe answered with silence, easing from the bed.

  “I hate to wake you.” Brice’s voice sounded strained.

  “Red?” Rafe’s heart revved. He eased from the bed and moved into the living room area so he wouldn’t wake Grace.

  “She’s fine.” Brice paused. “I don’t know any way to say this without it being a shock. Are you sitting down?”

  “Spit it out, Walker.” It was too early to dance around words.

  “Your house is on fire.”

  Rafe’s mind flew to his apartment, his quickened heartbeat accelerated. “The R&L is on fire?”

  “No, your house,” Brice said.

  “I don’t have a—”

  Rafe’s heart stopped. The lack of warm blood pumping through his veins caused an icy chill to spread from his stomach up into his throat and closed around his words.

  “Ronni?” he sputtered. “Alex?”

  “Safe and unharmed.”

  Rafe dropped into the easy chair.

  “I would come get you, but since you thought the R&L is on fire, I guess you’re not there.”

  “I’m with Grace.” It came out as a whisper. Instead of fooling around with her, he should’ve paid more attention to his blood-kin. He could’ve lost them. In the blink of an eye, he could’ve lost them.

  His stomach rolled. If he had anything in his stomach, it would’ve come up.

  “Meet me in the lobby. Five minutes.”

  Rafe disconnected the call and sat in stunned silence until he could force the shock from his mind. He quietly returned to the bedroom, pulled on his uniform pants and T-shirt, and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.