Wild Embrace

by Nalini Singh

  Desiree, meanwhile, was all loose and limber, a quiet purr under her skin. Not speaking, he continued to pet her until her eyes closed, her pulse languid. “What did you do today?” he asked quietly.

  “Ran a patrol,” she murmured. “Babysat five rambunctious cubs for a few hours, punched a bag hanging from a tree, agreed not to pounce on a certain wolf.”

  The wolf inside him padded to the surface of his skin, seduced out of its instinctive wariness. “Why were you babysitting?” It wasn’t that dominants didn’t babysit—they pulled their weight when it came to raising the pack’s children. He was simply curious about her.

  “Umm.” Rubbing her cheek against his chest, she said, “Can I stretch out over your lap?”

  Body hardening, he said, “Yeah.”

  Her movements quintessentially feline, she lay down with her head on his thighs, her feet up on the arm of the love seat and her eyes lazy. Colored a yellow-green at that moment, they made it clear her leopard was close to her skin. “Pet me some more.”

  He smiled at the demand and, heart thudding, used one hand to continue to play with her hair while he put his other one on the smooth skin of her abdomen after pushing up her tank top. She arched slightly under his touch, eyes closing again, but didn’t protest. Rubbing his thumb over her skin, he felt his nerves fade even as a different kind of tension rose to fever pitch inside him.

  “I was babysitting because these cubs are at the age where they need the occasional hard run and I was free. It was fun.” Her purr rose in volume. “You have the best hands.”

  Unable to resist the verbal petting, he bent his head and initiated a kiss. Her hand rose to fist in his hair, but she remained lazily quiescent below him. His heart was a roar in his ears as he bit down lightly on her lower lip. A deeper purr, her clawed hand moving to his shoulder to knead gently at him. “Bad kitty,” he murmured.

  She nipped at his lips. “Bad girls are more fun.”

  He continued to kiss her, taste her, his cock growing harder with each second that passed. When she ran her hand down his chest to scrape her claws lightly over one of his nipples, he hissed out a breath. His wolf wasn’t quite sure whether to worry or wallow in the lightning bolt of pleasure, and he stilled for a second.

  “No?” Desiree asked, licking her tongue across his lower lip.

  She was such a cat, he thought, wondering if she’d lick him everywhere. “I like it,” he said. “Wolf’s just thinking about the claws.”

  “Okay. While you’re thinking, I’ll just enjoy myself.” She shaped his pecs, ran her hand down his side. “Do sixteen-year-olds do this?”

  “I was too shy at sixteen.” He’d barely made eye contact with girls. “But I say yes.” He loved her hands on him.

  Desiree’s smile grew deeper. “Me, too.”

  Kissing her again, he enjoyed petting a cat who was enjoying him in turn. It was slow and sexy and for the first time since they’d come together, neither one of them made a misstep that caused things to end prematurely. When it did end, it was because they drew apart, conscious of not making the same mistake and rushing things again.

  His erection was at breaking point by then, but it was a good pain, a pain that told him they were getting this unexpected relationship right.

  • • •

  A week later and things were still going well. Felix and Desiree hadn’t had a lot of time together because of conflicting work schedules, but the time that they had, they spent with one another. Still, Felix wanted more.

  Which was why he was outside Riley’s office right now.

  SnowDancer’s senior lieutenant and Drew’s brother was standing by his desk looking at a holo-map projected onto the right wall, but glanced at Felix the instant he entered the doorway. Dark haired with deep brown eyes and a solid build, Riley exuded a sense of innate stability and calm. That didn’t mean he wasn’t deadly—he was probably one of the few wolves in the pack who could go up against their alpha in a real fight.

  “Felix,” he said in greeting, his body clad in an olive green T-shirt and black cargo pants. “You need some more bodies for the replanting?”

  “No.” Felix leaned his back up against the wall by the door. “I was hoping to talk about the schedules.”

  “You’ve earned whatever time you want off,” the senior lieutenant said over one of those wide shoulders. “Consider it done.”

  “That’s not it.” Running a hand through his hair, Felix said, “Is it possible to coordinate with DarkRiver?”

  Riley turned, giving Felix his full attention. “Explain.”

  Felix felt the push of Riley’s quiet but intense dominance against his skin, but it didn’t intimidate; his wolf was nearly as comfortable with the lieutenant as it was with Riley’s far more playful younger brother. “It’s tough for me and Dezi to see each other,” he said. “She’s been on night shift the past three days, and I have to work days.”

  Nodding, Riley rubbed his jaw. “I guess Mercy and I didn’t really notice it because I could set my own schedule,” he said, referring to his own feline mate. “Leave it with me. I’ll need to discuss it with Hawke.” A slow smile. “I bet neither Lucas nor Hawke thought of all the flow-on effects of interpack dating.”

  “I’m glad we’re doing it, though,” Felix said with a smile of his own, his heart doing damn backflips inside his chest at the thought of his cat.

  Riley laughed. “You won’t hear me arguing.”

  Thanking the lieutenant, Felix left to take care of his duties, and the next time he saw Desiree, it was that night. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “You got me hauled in front of my alpha.”

  Having glimpsed the teasing glint in her eye, he shrugged. “Our conflicting schedules weren’t good for romance.”

  Desiree’s laugh wrapped around him. “Well, thanks to you, Mr. Smarty-Pants, we both have the night off and free. Want to go dancing?”

  “Sure.” He’d take any excuse to hold her close. “Did Lucas say anything about us?” The DarkRiver alpha was just as attuned to his pack as Hawke was to SnowDancer.

  “Just that if I planned to seduce you into DarkRiver, I had his full support.” A deep grin. “Your horticultural skills are in hot demand.”

  Felix felt his skin heat, both at the compliment and at the idea of being seduced by this wild, beautiful cat. “Shall I change? For dancing?” He was wearing jeans, boots, and a white T-shirt, all clean, since he’d showered before meeting her, but well loved. Desiree, on the other hand, was wearing tight black jeans and a beautiful rust-colored top that skimmed her curves, her hair out of its braids and straightened to a slick shine. It was pretty but he liked the crackling wildness better.

  “Are you kidding?” She nipped him on the jaw, a caress he’d not only become used to from her, but that he adored. “Those jeans cup your butt just right.”

  He didn’t blush this time; he grinned. “You can bite it later.” When she laughed and kissed him again, he knew he was starting to learn how to deal with his cat.

  Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he led her to the SUV he’d signed out of the pack’s fleet. “You want to drive?” Dominants were weird about being driven sometimes and Felix didn’t mind making this small accommodation.

  “No,” Desiree said with a smile. “I feel like being chauffeured today.”

  The drive was fun, easy.

  “Look at the line outside Wild,” Desiree said, motioning at the club popular with younger packmates.

  “It’s good to see them having fun again.” Both SnowDancer and DarkRiver packmates had stayed close to home in the weeks directly after the battle, everyone stunned at the violence and needing to be around pack.

  “But,” he added, “I’m glad we’re not going in there.” He and Desiree were headed to a place that was more dinner and dancing, the music good but the volume low enough that conversation didn’t m
ean having to shout; he’d used the SUV’s built-in comm to call ahead and book them a table.

  “Did you do the club thing when you were younger?”

  He shrugged. “Now and then—I don’t really like being crushed in with too many people.”

  “I know.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “You like the outdoors, open spaces.” Reaching over, she put her hand on his thigh, the possessive touch making his wolf’s fur rub against the inside of his skin. “I can’t believe you did modeling for as long as you did.”

  “I missed home until it hurt,” he admitted, pulling into a parking space and closing his hand over hers. “Sometimes it felt as if I couldn’t breathe.” Squeezing her hand, he grinned. “I once turned wolf and ran through the Champ de Mars.”

  Desiree hooted at the mention of the famous park in Paris. “You didn’t! What happened?”

  “I nearly got arrested.” A grin. “But the cops couldn’t catch me.” Wolf huffing with laughter inside him, he said, “Hardest part was sneaking back into my apartment building. The next time I did something like that, I made sure to cache my clothes in a place I could access but that other people wouldn’t notice.”

  “Wait.” Desiree turned in her seat, eyes yellow-green and glowing. “You did it again?”

  “I spent time in a lot of cities,” he said in his defense. “Milan, New York, Sydney, Paris again. But I usually tried to find a park at least.” He laughed at the memories. “My favorite time was when a bunch of kids ran into me while I was a wolf and we played football until their moms noticed and freaked out, even though I was very well behaved and obviously changeling.”

  “Well, city people probably aren’t used to seeing a great big wolf casually playing football.” Desiree was utterly delighted by his stories, asked him to tell her more as they walked to Amore, the restaurant where they planned to eat dinner, dance a little, just enjoy being with one another.

  The more he shared, the deeper she fell.

  He was telling her about another model he’d known, when they arrived at the restaurant, to be told their table wouldn’t be ready for another twenty minutes. In no hurry, they decided to hang out at the bar. They’d just grabbed their drinks and Desiree was cuddled up to Felix, telling him about her trainee soldier days, when some asshole patted her butt and said, “Hey, babe.”

  Chapter 8

  Rolling her eyes, she turned to the big, muscle-bound idiot. “Touch me again and I’ll rip off your hand.”

  All tanned skin and white teeth, he leaned against the bar. She was dead certain he was a nonpredatory changeling, but, from his behavior, it seemed likely he was one of the bulls from the local deer herd. They could be as cocky as predators.

  “Want to dance?”

  She couldn’t believe the nerve of the moron. Deciding to ignore him, she turned back to Felix, to see that his jaw was clenched, his eyes wolf. “Hey.” She put a hand on his chest. “Don’t let some random dickhead ruin our night.”

  Felix’s muscles remained bunched, but he looked back down at her. She smiled . . . and felt the asshole touch her again. Growling low in her throat as her claws sliced out, she spun around and clawed bloody lines across the back of his hand.

  He hissed as blood welled, but didn’t back off.

  “Get out of her face.” It was Felix’s voice from behind her, his body pressed up against her back.

  The other male smirked. “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll kick your fucking ass.” Desiree slammed her drink down on the bar, aware of the entire place going dead quiet as the others around them picked up on the violence simmering in the air.

  The asshole glanced at his friends, then back not at Desiree but at Felix. “What about you, pretty boy? You gonna stand there and let your girlfriend do all the work?”

  Desiree’s leopard went stock-still inside her skin. This, this was what had been holding her back. Not that Felix was less dominant, but whether he could accept—truly accept—a woman who was more dominant. And not only that, a woman who was a trained soldier, designed and built to fight.

  So when he said, “What? Watch my seriously hot woman put you on your fat ass and look sexy while she’s doing it? Oh, yeah, I’m definitely game for that,” every single cell in her body exploded in violent pleasure.

  She went to shoot him a grin, but the goddamn fuckwit who’d interrupted their date tried to touch her again. Snarling, she slammed out, and suddenly the bull wasn’t so happy messing with her on his own. As his friends yelled and came at them, she was aware of Felix falling in beside her. They shared a grin before wading in to the melee together—and it was a melee. It seemed like everyone was ready for a good fight tonight in this very nice, very respectable establishment.

  He fought side by side with her throughout and it was at that moment that she understood the true depth of his courage. He didn’t have the aggressive instincts of a dominant, but like all SnowDancer submissives, he’d been trained in combat, so that he wouldn’t be helpless if he was ever the only line of defense for their most vulnerable.

  Tonight, she saw what it meant when a submissive fought for someone he cared about.

  He was all teeth and claws and fury and an unflinching refusal to surrender, even against bigger, more violent opponents. And he never, never got in her way. Instead, he was there to back her up, give her anything she needed; he made sure her flank was protected, that she never had to worry about sneak attacks.

  His kicks found their mark time and again, and he smashed more than one jaw.

  She saw him take a brutal punch to the gut as the instigator of the fight got in under his guard, but Felix ignored the injury to ensure she remained covered. Desiree, on the other hand, was enraged. This time, she got the offending asshole bull deliberately in the face.

  “If you want to play for real,” she snarled as he stumbled back, bleeding, “then let me show you my fucking claws.”

  • • •

  Felix had seen dominants fight before. You couldn’t be part of SnowDancer and not have witnessed that, even if it was only in a combat simulation. As it was, with the recent violence, he’d seen it in truth. But he’d never seen anyone fight like Desiree. Her moves were silken, sinuous, and could turn deadly with a whisper-light change in pressure or force.

  He didn’t think the idiots who’d initiated this had any idea she was pulling her punches. “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he said when they came face-to-face for a split second, their eyes colliding. He wanted to kiss her so badly at that instant.

  But then he heard another angry battle yell and it was on again.

  Four minutes later, an unbruised and unbloodied Desiree buffed her nails on the silken fabric of her top as she stood with her boot on the chest of the man who’d been stupid enough to touch her without permission. “Now, I’m going to go have my dinner,” she said to her very bruised and battered and clawed-up opponent. “Unless you’d like me to further kick your mangy ass?”

  The bull groaned, spreading his hands in surrender.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Turning, she hauled Felix down to her mouth with her hand around his nape, claws pricking his skin. He went, his wolf perfectly happy to be in the control of this very dangerous woman—because that dangerous woman had just laid out ten other people while treating him as a partner.

  There’d been no condescension, no ignoring him. She’d worked with him, left her back open—trusting him to watch it. At one stage, they’d been fighting back-to-back. And now she didn’t protest when he wrapped his own hand around her nape and held her tight as they kissed. It was hot, it was wet, and it was perfect.

  “A-hem.”

  Breaking apart at the pointed sound, they turned to find the owner of the restaurant glaring at them out of eyes of uptilted jet. “Really?” the petite woman said, tapping her stiletto-clad foot. “You had to put a dent in my brand-new
bar and bend three stools?”

  Desiree grinned. “Hey, at least we didn’t break anything.”

  “Oh, shut up.” The woman went over and using the pointed tip of her shoe, prodded sharply at the bull who’d started it all. “Get up, you whiny baby, and call your herd leader. You’re about to get one hell of a bill.”

  Felix tugged Desiree away from the irritated owner—who happened to be a human member of SnowDancer. Walking over to the restaurant section, where they received a round of clapping and grinning woohoos, they took the table pointed out by a smiling waiter. “So,” Felix said, picking up the menu, “that was nice. What shall we do for our next date?”

  Desiree’s eyes sparkled at him from over the top of her own menu . . . and that was the instant he realized he was holding her gaze, had been doing so since their kiss. His wolf paused, considered whether to lower its eyes, but could find no reason to do so. She was no longer an unknown dominant whose actions and reactions he couldn’t predict. She was Desiree and she didn’t see eye contact from him as a challenge; she saw it as natural, as what should be.

  Suddenly, he didn’t want to be here, with all these other people.

  Her pupils dilated in front of him, her scent sharpening and softening at the same time. “My place is closer from here,” she whispered.

  “Done.” Leaving a tip for the befuddled waiter, who’d just brought them a complimentary starter, he got up and, taking Desiree’s hand, headed out the door.

  Her place might’ve been closer, but it wasn’t close, and by the time he brought the SUV to a stop at the only viable parking spot—which was still about a twenty-minute run from her aerie, his body was at fever pitch.

  “We could just—” Desiree began, her chest rising and falling as if she’d run a marathon.

  “No. I want all night. I don’t want to have to stop later so we can run to your place.”

  Desiree groaned, pulled him close for a kiss that scrambled his brain cells, then took off. He raced after her. She was fast, far faster than he was, but that was all right, because he had the endurance to track her, no matter how fast she went. And she never went out of sight—because she wasn’t running away. She was flirting with him in the way only a cat could do.