Rylee found herself speechless. No man had ever told her he wanted her that much. A part of her brain that seemed to still be functioning properly thought Atticus moved too fast. But the rest, the part that had thought she’d never end up with a man like him, wanted to hold on and never let go. She knew nothing about him except for his first name and that he lived in Toronto, but being around him just felt right.
“What’s your last name?” she blurted.
He smiled. “It’s Thorp. And yours?”
“Horst. What do you do for a living?”
His smile broadened. “You want to know if I’m a good financial catch?”
“No. This is my way of getting to know you a little better. If it will make you feel any better, I’ll go first. I work as a cashier at The Real Canadian Superstore.”
“All right. I guess you could say I’m in the family business. My father wants me to take over once he decides to step down.”
“In other words, you and your family are rich.”
“Well, I do drive a BMW and have a Learjet at my disposal.”
“Yeah, you’re rich.”
Atticus chuckled. “Enough of the questions for now. We’d better get a move on before your brother and his friends come looking for us.”
Rylee nodded, gathered up her clothes and dressed while Atticus took out another t-shirt from the bag that sat in the corner of the tent. Her gaze followed his movements. Sexy, gorgeous and rich, he almost seemed too good to be true. She had no idea what she’d done to end up finding him, but she could only hope her luck stayed true and he’d really want to stick around for a while.
* * * * *
Atticus carried the portable propane gas barbeque grill while Rylee carried a plastic shopping bag with the steaks. Before they’d left his campsite, he’d seen her glance over at his black BMW X1 five-door coupe more than a few times. From the sound of things, his would-be mate didn’t have as much as he did when it came to money, but once she was his, that would change.
As they walked, he kept sneaking looks at Rylee. God, how he wanted to drag her back to his tent and do all the things he wanted to her, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t fully make love to her until he was ready to claim her. And he wasn’t. Neither was she ready for him to do so. She needed to know what he was. Once the mating bond formed between them and their souls joined, there would be no going back. Ever. Rylee deserved to have the choice to accept him or not.
Which meant he looked forward to his mating urge riding harder, making him crazy. The hand-job Rylee had given him hadn’t taken the edge off, if anything it made it worse. The only thing that would calm the urge was penetration. Everything else would just intensify it. And it wouldn’t help that when he managed to sleep he’d have erotic dreams of her.
Reaching Rylee’s campsite, Atticus saw the three boys sitting at the picnic table. They already had a fire going in the fire pit. From the items strewn over the top of the table, it looked as if they had been roasting marshmallows on the ends of some metal skewers.
“Hey,” Rylee said as she placed the shopping bag on a clear space on the picnic table, “those were supposed to be for later tonight.” She picked up the bag of marshmallows that was now a quarter full. “Thanks for leaving some for me,” she said with sarcasm.
Luc shrugged. “I told you we were hungry, and you and your friend over there seemed to be taking an awful long time.”
Atticus set the portable grill on the table next to where Rylee had put the steaks. “I’ll get the meat cooking. My name is Atticus. And I’m not just your sister’s friend, I’m her boyfriend.”
“Holy shit, you work fast,” Luc said with a shake of his head.
“I guess there goes my chances with Rylee,” the boy named Josh said.
Atticus eyed the teenager. Even though he knew the boy wasn’t any threat, his wolf didn’t like the idea of another male showing interest in his would-be mate.
Rylee groaned. “Josh, you never had a glimmer of one even before I met Atticus. Sorry, but I like the men I go out with to be closer to my age, and not teenage boys.”
Josh put his hand over his heart and pretended he’d been shot. “You got me. I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”
“Until the next pretty girl you see, that is,” Rylee said with a chuckle.
“She got you there,” the boy named Nick said, laughing.
It didn’t take Atticus long to get the steaks on the grill. Rylee cleared the mess off the picnic table and set out some paper plates. Once the boys’ and her steaks were done, he pulled them off and put his on. Being a werewolf, he liked his the rarer the better.
After a few minutes, they all sat down, helping themselves to the potato salad Rylee had taken out of the electric cooler plugged into the campsite’s outlet.
She eyed his steak as he cut into it. “You’d better make sure that thing isn’t still mooing before you eat it.”
He grinned. “It isn’t. You want to try a piece?”
Rylee grimaced. “Ah, no. That’s all right. I like my steak on the rare side, but that is too much like raw meat to me.”
They ate the rest of their meal in silence, the teenage boys at the table practically inhaling theirs. After they’d all gotten rid of their plates in the garbage, they sat around the fire. Darkness had already started to set in.
After a while, Josh went into the four-man tent and came out carrying three five-hundred-milliliter bottles of cola. He gave one to Luc and Nick. When the boys opened them and took a swig, Atticus’ sensitive nose picked up more than the scent of pop.
Leaning in to Rylee, he said in a low voice only she could hear, “You’d better check what they’re drinking. I don’t think it’s exactly what it appears to be.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Shit. That’s just what I need.”
Rylee stood and walked around the fire pit until she stood in front of the boys. She held her hand out to Luc. “All right, hand it over.”
“This one is mine. Didn’t you bring any pop of your own?”
“Yes, but I want to taste yours.” When Luc didn’t hand it over right away, Rylee snatched it from him and took a swig. She then started to cough. “Holy hell, how much rum is in here?”
“Enough,” her brother replied. “Now give it back. We’re all nineteen, so it’s not as if we’re underage.”
“True, but alcohol is strictly forbidden in the conservation area. If we get caught with it they’ll kick us out.” Rylee looked at each of the boys. “Now hand it over, all of you.”
With groans and comments of her wrecking their camping trip, the three boys gave her their bottles of cola. Rylee walked to the end of the campsite where the trees bordered it and dumped the contents of the bottles.
Grumbling, the teenagers left the fire pit and went into their tent. Rylee sat next to Atticus and sighed deeply. “This is going to be a fun weekend. I can already tell.”
He laughed. “How about you grab the rest of your marshmallows and we’ll cook them over a fire at my campsite. I’m sure Luc and his friends won’t get into too much trouble for a few hours.”
She turned her head and met his gaze, the look in her eyes showing she’d be more than interested in doing other things besides roasting marshmallows. “That sounds wonderful,” Rylee said in a voice that had dropped a few octaves, the sound of it wrapping around his cock, making it strain against his zipper.
He stood the same time she did. “I’ll get the grill, you get the marshmallows.”
Another bout of heavy petting would have him feeling as if he’d lost his mind, but Atticus was more than willing to suffer.
Chapter Three
Even though the paved road that connected all the campsites was lit, it wasn’t well lighted. Being a werewolf, Atticus had no problem seeing into the darkest shadows as if it were day. With Rylee at his side, he guided her down the road in the direction they needed to go. He had to hold himself back from setting a faster pace. Rylee’s legs weren’t as long as his
and if he wasn’t careful he’d leave her behind. As it was, she seemed to be walking at a fast clip just to match his strides.
They were just about to step into his campsite when a wolf’s howl sounded in the night. Atticus came to an instant standstill, stopping Rylee by standing protectively in front of her. He knew it was no regular wolf, but another of his kind. A werewolf’s howl had a different tone than a wild wolf’s.
Rylee looked at him. “Was that a wolf? As far as I know, Elora doesn’t have any wild wolves, and definitely not around the conservation area.”
He slowly got them moving again. “No, that wasn’t a wolf. People are allowed to have dogs here. Maybe it was one of them.”
She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him. Atticus had been grasping at straws, but he made no further comment. Senses on alert, he searched his campsite, paying particular attention to the trees surrounding the back and one side of it. The wind shifted, blowing into his face. He cursed out loud.
“What’s the matter?” Rylee asked.
Atticus put the grill down on the picnic table, gaze trained to the line of trees to the side. Before he could answer her question, a slim blonde woman stepped into the site. As a member of his pack, and sometime bed partner, he knew her quite well. Marla’s presence wasn’t a good thing.
Marla closed the distance between them, brushed Rylee out of the way and threw herself against him. Atticus put his arms around her to steady her or she would have knocked him off balance. She must have taken it as encouragement. She went up on tiptoe, sank her hands in his hair and kissed him. He tried to pull away, but that only caused Marla to yank harder on the strands between her fingers. With a low growl of warning, he bit her bottom lip, and with hands on her hips, pushed her away.
She smiled and licked her lips. “I always like it when you bite, especially when we’re in bed.”
Atticus heard Rylee take a sharp breath. He turned toward her and saw a hurt expression flicker across her face before it disappeared. “I think I’ll go back to my campsite.” She took a step back.
“Wait, Rylee,” he said as he reached for her. She knocked his hand away. “Don’t go. Marla is the one who is leaving.”
The female werewolf gave a short, sexy laugh. “Come now, Atticus. I came all this way to see you. I’m not going anywhere.” She put a hand on his chest and smoothed it back and forth. “I thought we’d enjoy the night in a way we’ve done more than a few times. It’s never been in a tent before, though.”
“I’m out of here,” Rylee said in a strained voice. “I hope you…enjoy…the rest of your weekend, Atticus.”
She spun on her heel and practically ran out of the campsite. Atticus tried to follow, but Marla pulled on his arm.
“Let her go,” she said. “I’m here now, so you don’t need to lower yourself to consorting with that mortal.”
Atticus angrily rounded on Marla. “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time we were together I didn’t want to see you anymore.”
His anger didn’t seem to faze her. “You were just upset. You’ve had time to cool down.” She stepped closer to lean against his chest. “We’re good together. Why would you possibly want to give that up?”
With another growl, he pushed Marla away. “I haven’t changed my mind. You aren’t my mate, and I’m not willing to pretend you are just because you’ve spread your legs for me a few times. You weren’t that good of a lay.”
She growled as her hand shot out to slap him, but Atticus caught her wrist before she connected. “Bastard. It’s a perfect arrangement. Your father would stop trying to find you a mate and I get to be ‘mated’ to the pack’s next leader.”
He roughly shoved her hand away. “My being the son of the pack leader is the only reason why you’ve shown me any interest. Sorry to say, I don’t need you anymore. It looks as if I already found my mate.”
Marla’s gaze shifted to where Rylee had disappeared before she looked back at him. “You can’t be serious. That lowly mortal cannot be your mate. Your father won’t stand for it.”
“He’s just going to have to get over it. Rylee is my mate. Even now my mating urge is riding me.” He let thoughts of his would-be mate fill his head, knowing full well his eyes would be mutedly glowing in response.
“Don’t be an idiot. There’s a reason why we call them mortals. We might not be immortal, but we are extremely longed-lived. You’re nine hundred years old with the potential of living to three thousand. You’d bind yourself to one of them, even though you’d be lucky if she lived to be a hundred?”
Atticus ground his teeth to stop the howl of frustration that threatened to break loose. “That’s no concern of yours. Now get into your car, wherever you parked it, and go back to Toronto. You’re not welcome here.”
“My car is in the parking lot close to the gatehouse. I went wolf to track you and followed your scent to your site. And I’m not leaving. If anything, it should be quite entertaining to see you trying to woo your mortal. I’m sure she knows nothing about what you truly are.” Marla gave him a condescending smile. “I’ll be here to pick up the pieces after you’ve told her and she runs from you in fright.”
She reached out to touch him again. Atticus backed out of range, snapped his teeth and growled deep in his chest. “Admit defeat. I hope you enjoy sleeping in the tent alone, because I have no intention of being anywhere near you for the rest of the night.”
Giving her another snarl for good measure, he turned his back on Marla and walked away. She’d made a mess of things between him and Rylee. He just hoped he could fix it.
* * * * *
How could I be so stupid? Rylee didn’t know whether to punch something or cry. She’d fallen for Atticus’ promises of wanting to be with her for longer than the weekend. She’d believed him, and the longer she’d been around him, the more she’d let how she felt about him grow. She’d believed every bullshit line he’d given her. Hearing him tell Luc he was her boyfriend had turned her insides to mush.
But it figured it was too good to be true. And seeing the blonde with the supermodel good looks at his campsite, her throwing herself at him and him not doing a whole lot to avoid her kiss, Rylee had felt as if she’d been duped. What Atticus had gotten out of playing her, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if she’d fucked him, thank god. Maybe he got his jollies from picking average women, stringing them along by holding out the ultimate prize, and after they gave him what he wanted, he tossed them aside. Well, she wouldn’t be another notch on his bedpost. The way the blonde had spoken, it was obvious they were intimate, very intimate, longstanding friends.
So angry, mostly with herself, Rylee stomped along the road to her campsite, mentally calling Atticus every swearword she knew. If it weren’t for Luc and his friends, and that they’d paid for the site for the entire long weekend, she would have packed everything up tonight and gone back to Kitchener. Right now, she wished she’d told her mother a big resounding no when she’d called her and asked her to go camping with her brother.
At the campsite, Rylee saw the three boys had come out of their tent and sat around the fire pit. She chucked the bag of marshmallows at Nick who happened to be closest. “Here, you guys can finish them.”
“What happened to Atticus?” Luc asked.
“Don’t mention his name again,” she snapped.
“I thought he was your boyfriend.”
“Was being the operative word. Let’s just say back at his campsite, his other girlfriend was there waiting for him.”
“Damn,” Josh said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come and cry on my shoulder?”
Not in the mood, Rylee flipped him off. “Shut up, Josh.” She looked at each of the boys. “I’m going to be in my tent, reading. If any of you do anything to piss me off, be forewarned I’ll string you up by your balls. Got it?”
Each one of them nodded. As she took a step toward her tent, Luc asked, “What if Atticus comes here lookin
g for you? Do you want me to hurt him for you?”
Despite her foul mood, she chuckled at the absurdity of that. Her brother was only two inches taller than her five foot eight. And a bodybuilder he was not. Atticus could crush him with one hand behind his back.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “If he does show up, which I highly doubt since his real girlfriend looks like a supermodel, just tell him to get lost.”
Inside her tent, Rylee switched on the battery-operated lantern and pulled out the book she’d brought along with her. She’d figured she’d need it to keep herself entertained while Luc and his friends did their own thing.
While she read, she did her best to forget about Atticus, about the way he’d held her close, kissed her with a longing she’d thought wasn’t an act. But time and time again those thoughts kept rising to the surface. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was ridiculous. She’d only spent a few hours with him, but it felt as if they’d been together a lot longer than that.
Rylee had only been reading for fifteen minutes when she heard the sound of Atticus’ voice outside her tent talking to the boys. She clearly heard him say he wouldn’t leave until he’d talked to her after Luc told him to get lost. Pissed off that he would have had the gall to show up, she angrily unzipped her tent and went to confront him.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Atticus,” she said as she stomped toward him.
“Just give me a chance to explain.”
Rylee stopped a short distance away from him. “Explain what? That you enjoy leading on women who are taken in by your good looks? Did you and your supermodel girlfriend have a good laugh over it?”
“Marla isn’t my girlfriend. And I didn’t lead you on.”
“Right. It didn’t look as if you were fighting her off too much when she kissed you. And what was it she said? Oh yes, she liked it that you bit while you sucked face with her.”
Atticus had his jaw clenched so tight Rylee saw the muscle along it jump. “I bit her as a warning to show her she’d gone too far.”
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