by Ranae Rose
The tenderness in his tone prompted her to lay a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not like it’s your fault.”
He shrugged beneath her touch. “I reckon it was bein’ around me and out here in your natural environment that cued your body to shift for the first time. If not for that, you might have gone for years without transforming, maybe even your whole life. Half-breeds don’t all turn out to be shifters.”
“Oh.” She let her hand rest on his shoulder. It felt strange to admit to herself, but when she touched him, things seemed less crazy. Less scary. Her thoughts slowed and wandered, interspersed by tidbits of werewolf lure she’d gleaned from pop-culture media. “I thought werewolves only transformed during the full moon.”
Jack waved his hand dismissively. “That’s just the crap you see on TV.”
His breathing evened and mellowed as minutes passed by. Was he asleep? There was no question that he needed rest, but there was the pressing matter of a roaming murderer. They needed to discuss their course of action, and yet, she hated the idea of disrupting the first moment of peace between them. From the moment they’d first met he’d been surly and sarcastic, and she’d responded in kind. But there was none of that now. Just a quiet stillness that made her feel strangely at home. She took advantage of it, peeling off her destroyed socks before making herself more comfortable on the bed. Then she pulled the blanket tighter around her body, unable to keep from relaxing as Jack’s rich scent enveloped her.
“I reckon we’ll bunker down here for the rest of the day.” He spoke suddenly, startling Mandy.
“I thought you were asleep,” she admitted.
He shook his head, and though he was awake, his eyelids looked heavy. That was no surprise, considering his injury, not to mention the fact that he’d apparently spent the night tracking the hunter.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to stay here? That guy could come bursting in here at any second.” She glanced toward the curtained window, fear tying her stomach in knots when she realized that she’d dropped her gun in the living room when she’d shifted into wolf form.
“No, he won’t do that.” A wry grin tilted Jack’s full mouth. “Bargin’ in and shootin’ a man dead in his own home – what kind of sport is that? No, he’ll want to kill us in the wild. We’ll be safe here – for a while, anyway.”
Mandy nodded stiffly. “If you say so.” The truth was that she’d finally accepted the horrible practicality of Jack’s anti-hospital sentiments. How could she possibly admit herself or him to an emergency room when she could turn into a wolf at any moment? She wasn’t in control of her transformations yet, and then there was the matter of her body temperature. Jack no longer felt abnormally hot to her, which meant that her temperature had elevated to match his – to match a wolf’s. Who knew what other changes this strange new nature had wrought in her body? “But what’s our long-term plan?”
“To kill the bastard before he kills us.”
“You don’t think we should involve law enforcement?”
Jack scoffed, hinting at the rough, sarcastic nature he’d displayed up until recently. “Tryin’ to make it down the mountain and into town would end in a fight for our lives anyway, and takin’ the road would be a suicide mission. We’ll have to heal up tonight and then start hunting our hunter.”
“Right.” Mandy managed to keep the shakiness she felt brewing inside out of her voice. “Do you have a pack that can help us?” It felt a little silly to ask, but she’d seen something like that in a movie once, and her current circumstances were far stranger than anything she’d ever seen at the theater or on TV.
“No.” He turned over onto his uninjured side, facing the door. “It’s just us.”
His answer sparked something inside Mandy – curiosity, as well as tentative sympathy. His initial reply had hinted at bitterness, but there hadn’t been a trace of it in his voice when he’d said ‘it’s just us’. It seemed that she’d become an ally to the crazy mountain man, and maybe he wasn’t so crazy after all. “Do you think it would be safe to get some sleep?”
His back was still to her. “Should be.”
With his offhand blessing, she closed her eyes. The past hour’s events had exhausted her, but that was no surprise. It wasn’t every day that one transformed into an animal for the first time and became caught in a murderer’s trap, only to be rescued by a naked, golden-eyed werewolf.
****
Mandy awoke in a sweat. She’d been having one of those dreams again, and the smell of crushed pine needles still swirled about her. Something warm was pressed against her cheek, and when she shifted against it, the scent grew stronger. Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding herself face to face with plenty of bare muscle.
Jack. He lay sprawled beside her on the bed, his bicep against her cheek. She cast a hasty glance at his face and was relieved to see that he was fast asleep. How had she gotten here, in the middle of the bed? She’d fallen asleep slumped against the headboard at the far end, while Jack had lain at the foot of the mattress. Somehow, they’d found each other.
Her blanket! She remembered it with a start and realized it was no longer wrapped around her body. Instead, it lay crumpled at the base of the headboard. She snatched it with her good hand and covered herself with it again.
Jack had kept ahold of his blanket, though that was all he’d managed. He held it in his fist, and it streamed across the mattress beside him, covering nothing. Mandy allowed her gaze to travel over his resting body. It was perfect, save for the wound in his side. It had dried over and was no longer bleeding, but too much activity could probably change that. She looked away from the injury, turning her eyes instead to his hips and the gloriously dark, thick hair between them. His cock was semi-hard, and the burning guilt that assaulted her as she stared at it was a price she was willing to pay.
Heat crept through her entire being as memories from her recent dreams flooded her mind. They’d been hot and intimate. She’d privately accused Jack of being shameless more than once that day, but apparently her sleeping mind was even more so. In her dreams, she and Jack had bounded through the woods as wolves and then – in their human forms – had tumbled to the ground together, their limbs entwining as he entered her, driving her down deep into the cushiony floor of pine needles as he made love to her. What exactly had caused the dreams, she wasn’t sure, but they’d been startlingly vivid, almost real. And then she’d awoken in a sweat, lying beside a naked, half-aroused Jack. It was too much to bear. She touched the tip of her tongue to her lips and reached out with her unhurt hand, longing to feel his skin against her fingertips. At the last moment, she drew back.
It was crazy. She knew that, and yet, she wanted nothing more than to touch him. No, she wanted to do more than that. She wanted to climb onto him, stroke his cock to its full length and feel it slide inside her. She wanted to ride him until a fresh layer of sweat shone on her skin. She wanted him, bad.
Curling her wayward hand into a fist and shoving it into her lap, she eyed the wound in his side again. Fresh guilt surged through her. How could she be thinking such things when he was hurt so badly? Regardless of how shameless her desires were or how conspicuously absent her inhibitions seemed to be, he was in no condition for sex. The only thing he needed to be doing in bed was resting. But thanks to her unnaturally vivid dreams, she was crazy with lust – a state she rarely found herself in. She’d just have to work off the steam and let him rest. Allowing her gaze to wander to his groin again, she slipped a hand beneath her blanket, pressing her fingertips into the apex of her thighs. Her core tightened when she saw that his cock was fully erect now, and she pressed her fingers against her slick skin. She’d just found her clit when a distinct feeling gave her pause, causing her to freeze with her hand between her legs. Slowly, she raised her gaze from Jack’s hips to his face.
He was awake.
She stared, knowing her eyes were wide and that her jaw had gone slack. Caught beneath his golden gaze, she was powerless to move. What
blood she still had left in the upper half of her body flooded into her cheeks, creating what had to be a fantastic blush.
He said nothing, just continued to watch her with half-hooded eyes.
She sat frozen, enduring the silence until she couldn’t take it any longer. She had to explain. “I had a dream.” Her feeble excuse came out half-whisper.
A sound that could only be described as a growl rose from deep within his chest. “So did I.”
Mandy glanced toward his groin again and a wave of longing swept over her. His erection hadn’t subsided. If anything, it appeared larger than it had when he’d been asleep. Not that it had been inconsiderable then.
“Tell me about your dream.”
“It was…”
His gaze never left her. “It was what?”
She couldn’t help but respond. She’d been caught red-handed, and he surely knew what kind of dreams she’d been having. The hardness between his hips and his own words made her hope that he’d been having the same sort. She wanted to hear him confess, too. “It was about you.” Her words tumbled out. “You and me. Together. In the woods. We were…”
“Making love?” he finished for her.
She nodded weakly. “Exactly.”
“We musta had the same dream.”
“Oh.” What else was there to say? The skin between her legs was still tingling, tempting her to let her fingers glide over her aching flesh, seeking relief. Only now that he was awake and looking at her, that no longer seemed like enough. Even if she brought herself to climax – that would only take a moment, surely – she’d still want more.
Jack reached out with surprising speed and grabbed her wrist, pulling her unhurt hand out of her blanket.
Mandy gasped as he lifted it to his mouth, touching her fingertips to his lips. Slowly, he swept his tongue over them. They were already damp with her arousal. He drew them past his teeth, tasting. Her heart sped as a golden gleam flashed in his half-hooded eyes and the ghost of a growl rose from his chest. “You taste just like you did in my dream.”
A fresh wave of heat warmed her cheeks, along with the rest of her body. His manly, woodsy scent was making her head spin, and that combined with the rough timbre of his voice threatened to send her over the edge.
He pulled her fingertips from his lips and reached for her.
Chapter 5
“Jack, I don’t think this is such a good idea. If things go the way they did in my dream, you’ll reopen your wound in a heartbeat.”
She didn’t even notice that he’d seized one corner of her blanket until he gave it a quick tug, unraveling it from her body. She sucked in a breath as he let his gaze travel over her slowly, causing her to burn with shock and desire. Yes, she’d dreamed of him staring at her with that look in his eyes, but this was dangerously real. The tension was quickly mounting between them as they faced one other, their gazes locked on each other’s naked bodies, but if he made love to her like he had in her dreams, it might kill him. There was no way she could let him try, no matter how fiercely her body ached for him.
“Don’t worry about me,” he growled, dropping her hand and pressing his own between her thighs.
She yielded to him as he massaged her slick skin, finding her clit. A shiver raced down her spine as he stroked it, causing her core to tighten. “I’m not going to let you do anything that might hurt you.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her clit again, causing her to gasp. It was ridiculous how good his touch felt. Nobody had ever made her body respond so strongly with such a light touch before.
“It hurts not to be inside you,” he said, dipping his fingers lower and running them along the seam of her sex. With his other hand, he grasped his cock, wrapping his fingers around the shaft. “Hurts worse than the gunshot wound.” He teased her, slipping just the tip of one finger inside her. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she moaned begrudgingly. Those dreams… They’d affected her in ways she hadn’t even known a real man could, let alone a simple fantasy. She was burning for Jack in a way that she could only describe as unnatural, though the idea of making love to him seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Nothing like this had ever happened to her in Nashville. Could it be the mountain air affecting her, or was it something to do with the strange new nature she had yet to grow accustomed to? Perhaps her latent lupine qualities weren’t the only things being around Jack had awakened.
He nodded, his cheek brushing the blankets as he kept his gaze locked with hers. “You’re hot for me.” He pushed his finger a little deeper inside her, as if testing her heat. “Let me make love to you, Mandy.”
She moaned, resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to widen her thighs and sink down onto his hand. “You’re in no condition for that. I want you, but not so badly that I’ll let you kill yourself.”
“I’m not as bad off as you think. You shoulda seen the holes when I was first shot – they were even bigger than they are now. There was just enough moonlight left for them to heal a little.” His eyes were locked with hers. “Enough for this.”
She eyed his side dubiously. The entry wound was clearly visible, the exit wound pressed against the mattress. He wasn’t bleeding from either, but… “It’s still pretty bad, Jack.”
He moaned too, penetrating her deeper with his finger and dragging it down her inner wall, making her squirm. “Ride me, then. I won’t move – I promise.” He pulled his hand from between her thighs, letting it rest on the blankets.
The absence of him – any part of him – inside her left her feeling so empty that she wanted to jump on top of him. He still had his fist wrapped around his cock. If she straddled his hips, he could guide it inside her. She was hot and slick, more than ready for him – it would be easy. And then – oh, God – she could ride him until she came and her body wrung his pleasure out of him too. It would be heaven. “You sure it won’t hurt you?” she asked tentatively, desperately wanting to believe that it wouldn’t.
“I don’t give a damn if it does. The day’s halfway over, and I’m not gonna die before sunset. If I have to suffer a little more ‘till then, it’ll be worth it.” His voice softened a little. “Now let me feel you on top of me, or I’m comin’ over there.”
She finally moved, swinging a leg carefully over both of his and gingerly straddling is hips, careful not to let her knee jostle his injured side. This had to be safer than the alternative, which apparently meant letting him be on top. She held her injured hand carefully, not letting it touch anything, though her desire for Jack was so strong that it all but drowned out her pain.
He let out a deep sigh as he angled his cock so the thick head brushed her damp folds. “Come down here.” He rested a hand on her ass and squeezed, his fingertips pleasantly rough against her soft skin.
She gave in to his urging, slowly lowering herself onto his cock. Inch by delightfully slow inch, she let him fill her. Her core stretched to accommodate him, and the feeling of her wet flesh yielding to his hardness was ecstasy. “Jack…” she breathed, seizing a fistful of nearby blanket with her good hand and digging her nails into the material because she was afraid she’d hurt him if she laid hands on his body.
He rocked his hips, sheathing himself to the root inside her.
“Don’t do that!” she gasped. “You’ll reopen your wound. Let me…” She moved slowly up and down, relishing the way her core clenched and tightened around his hard cock.
He tossed his head back and moaned appreciatively. “All right. If it’s going to feel this good, I’ll let you do it.” He pressed a hand between her thighs, finding her clit again.
She shuddered as he began to massage it, his fingertips gliding easily over the slick nub. A telltale tightening began in her womb and worked its way down, causing her channel to clamp down on his cock. “Jack.” His name came naturally to her lips as he deepened his massage, making it so that all she could think about was the rough rub of his calloused fingertips against her clit and the tight fit of
his cock inside her.
Her orgasm rolled through her in waves, making her gasp and shudder on top of Jack. It was hard not to fall, sprawling, on top of his chest. Instead she rode him harder, getting the most out of her climax. By the time she stopped, she could feel the beat of his pulse inside her.
“Don’t stop, sweetheart.” He placed both his hands on her hips and gripped them tight, putting his muscles to good use as he helped her fuck him.
She was aided by a second wind when he began to moan, his shoulders becoming rigid against the mattress as he tipped his head back. She moved more quickly, rising halfway and then burying his cock deep inside her again. Each time she lowered her hips, he groaned louder. That, she discovered, was another thing she liked about the mountains: there was no one to hear. She reveled in the sound, knowing it was only for her.
“Mandy…” he surprised her by pulling her down onto his chest, burying his hand in her hair as he kissed her. She yielded to him when he ran his tongue roughly over the seam of her lips, thrusting it inside. He ravaged her mouth, and before she knew it, his hips were flexing beneath hers. Her fingertips brushed his hair as she rested her injured hand on the mattress, careful not to jostle it, lest the pain pull her out of the haze of pleasure he’d put her in. He penetrated her deeply with each stroke, holding her tight against his chest and moaning into her mouth as he came.
Several breathless moments later, their kiss ended. His arms were still wrapped around her, and she feared what she might see when he finally released her. “Jack…” Her voice came out as breathy and shaky as she felt.
“Yeah?” His answer was half-groan.
“Are you all right?”
“I swear, I’ve never been better.”
But it wasn’t true. Something warm and damp met her knee. She escaped his embrace and straightened. “You’re bleeding again.” She climbed off of him carefully. “You shouldn’t have done that, at the end.” Her body heated at just the thought of the way he’d fucked her; so hard, and with so much passion. “You broke your promise.” The blood was just a trickle, but she hated the sight of it. She pressed a balled-up blanket to his side, stanching the modest flow.