The Lone Wolf's Craving

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The Lone Wolf's Craving Page 7

by Beckett, Tina


  “Holy hell.”

  She echoed that sentiment. Whew. He felt as good on a bed as he had on a sink. No, better, because there something incredibly intimate about having a man press you into a mattress.

  She was glad she wasn’t on top.

  Sliding her palms down the smooth skin of his back, she tried to memorize the lusciousness of his warmth against her. She was still in her bra and panties, and there was no hint that he was in a hurry to remove either garment. That drove her crazy, as well. In fact, everything about this man did.

  He withdrew only to thrust into her again, deeper this time, drawing a strangled moan from her as she strained upward, wanting to get closer. Keeping himself buried inside her, he lifted onto his elbows and kissed her lips, her collarbone, the top of her breast, before his mouth closed over the fabric-covered peak.

  Holy hell. She didn’t voice the words like he had, but they sang through her head over and over as he drew her nipple further into his mouth, the friction of the wet fabric over her sensitive flesh taking her higher. She wasn’t far.

  “Luke,” she whispered, her shaking hands coming up to cradle his head against her as his tongue rubbed back and forth over her. The sensation went straight to her center, where her flesh tightened around his again.

  Move. Please.

  He did. Withdrawing just enough to put some space between them.

  No!

  When he kept tugging on her nipple, making no move to set up any kind of rhythm down below, she grew desperate. She lifted her hips in an effort to relieve some of the ache between her legs then backed away, rising to repeat the act as his breathing deepened, rattling against her chest.

  She realized what he was doing. Holding still and forcing her to ride him as she might have done had she been on top. And so she did. Luke rewarded each strong pump of her hips with a long slow lap of his tongue before moving to the other breast, the agonizing vortex he was creating sucking her a little deeper with each stroke.

  His knees were flat on the bed and so she hooked her feet around them in an effort to gain more leverage, pushing up hard, until the sensitive bead of flesh at the joint of her thighs finally connected with his pelvis.

  Oh! Yes. That.

  She mashed closer, holding herself high against him and rubbing in little circles, her legs shaking with exertion but needing this so very badly. She pressed her hands low on his back, using her arms to keep that precious line of connection.

  Please. Oh, God. Just a little bit more.

  Her legs started to fail her, and she lunged back up in desperation, forcing her body to slide against his over and over...

  Ahhhh!

  She went off, her body convulsing around him as she fell back to the bed. He followed her down, suddenly thrusting into her at a wild pace, releasing her breast and throwing his head back. The cords on his neck stood out and a growl erupted from his chest as he seated himself deep, deep within her, holding himself there for what seemed like forever.

  When he settled back against her, his head dropped to her neck, breath gusting against her moist skin. An aftershock went through her, and her flesh clamped down on him again. He responded by pressing closer.

  “Mmm.” The contented sound came from somewhere down around her shoulder, punctuated with a small bite at the joint. The shot arced straight down her spinal cord, and she squeezed tight again. He paused, then repeated the act to the same effect. “I think somebody likes that.”

  She liked just about anything he did. She groaned, half amused, half embarrassed by what he made her body do.

  He lifted his head and smiled down at her. “Look on the bright side, Kate. At least you didn’t lose your panties this time.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE PHYSICAL THERAPIST set aside her butcher’s knife and pulled a protective silicone stump sleeve from a huge drawer filled with prosthetics of every imaginable size and shape—arms, legs, the bottom portion of a face—and held it up. “This looks to be the right size.”

  Luke glanced at the bed next to his where a young amputee had been brought in earlier today. It was now empty. So was the bed to his right. He frowned. Then who was the sleeve for?

  Horror gripped him as he slowly dragged the sheet covering the lower half of his body away from his legs. The left one was fine. Strong. Whole. The right one...

  The bloody bandages that had once covered his leg were now lying flat against the bed, still wound around and around, as if his leg had simply vanished into thin air, leaving behind the empty wrappings. And the therapist’s face, observing him with a secretive smile, came into sudden focus as she leaned toward him.

  Kate.

  What had she done to him?

  He screamed...

  “Luke.” The sound came from beside him, along with a hand gripping his arm. Shaking him.

  He jerked away from the touch, blinking as reality returned.

  She leaned toward him just like before, only the smirk was gone. In its place was worry, her brows drawn together as she reached for him again.

  “Luke? Are you okay?”

  He fell back against the pillows, flexing his right leg. Still there. It was a dream.

  Bloody hell, he was drenched with sweat. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him like this. He made to get up, only to have her stop him.

  “Hey. What’s going on?”

  If he started suddenly yanking his clothes on, he had a feeling she’d follow him, pestering him with questions.

  “Bad dream, I guess.”

  “I guess so. Are you okay?”

  He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it off his brow and ignoring her repeated question. “What time is it?”

  “Just after eight in the morning. Sorry, I guess I fell asleep.”

  Kate was sitting with the sheet pulled up around her breasts—breasts that were now completely bare. Her blond hair was gloriously tousled, her eyes soft with sleep, but he couldn’t banish the image of her tucking that huge knife out of sight. That strange, secretive smile. Maybe his subconscious couldn’t separate the physical pain he’d endured last night from the pleasure she’d given him. She’d hurt him and then helped him. Just like in his dream.

  “We both fell asleep.” Maybe it was a good thing he’d had that dream. He needed something to knock some sense into his head. What he’d done last night had been crazy. And if Nick found out, he was going to kill him. “I need to get to work, though. My shift starts in a little over an hour.”

  “How’s your leg?”

  He jerked his glance to her face before he realized she wasn’t talking about his dream but about the massage. He stretched it again, surprised that the muscles seemed to have recovered from the abuse he’d put them through at the accident scene. “All better. Thanks.”

  He put his feet over the side of the bed, keeping the sheet pulled over his thighs. He’d never thought to check last night to make sure the curtains were pulled all the way shut. They weren’t, and daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between them.

  “Um, Luke?”

  He twisted to look at her, waiting for her to continue.

  “Have you thought about what I asked? About the therapy center at the hospital?”

  “No.” All his misgivings from yesterday came rushing back. Along with all of his suspicions. “Have you talked to Nick about this?”

  “Not yet. But I was planning on saying something soon.”

  “I think he’s almost done with his physical therapy course. At least, that’s what I understood. I’m supposed to meet him at the center when I get in today.”

  The hand Kate was using to hold the sheet curled until she was clenching it against herself. “Oh. I didn’t realize he was almost finished with his treatment...”

 
Last night had been a mistake. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in Nick’s business. Especially since he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off that “business.”

  “Like I said, you can talk to him about it.”

  “I’d still like to observe, even if Nick isn’t there any more. I can learn so much from seeing other approaches.”

  Did he really want to have this discussion this morning? “I can’t promise anything. But I’ll check and see if they allow that kind of thing.”

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  He climbed out of bed, still feeling a little queasy from the dream he’d had. Maybe it really was his subconscious; maybe it was trying to give him a warning kick in the ass. He kept his leg angled where she couldn’t see it. “Listen. This—” he motioned at the bed “—can’t happen again.”

  Her eyes widened with hurt, and then her teeth came down on her lip. “Of course. I, um, feel the same way. I’m not going to be here for that long, anyway.”

  “Okay, then. As long as we’re on the same page.” He grabbed the rest of his clothes and headed for the bathroom. Why did he feel like such a schmuck? He’d just done what needed doing. Nick would not be happy about him spending the night here. Not that he planned on breathing a word of this to anyone. One slip-up was understandable—after all, Kate was a beautiful woman—but two? Not his usual style.

  Especially not after displaying the kind of weakness he’d shown last night.

  Hell, as erotic as it had been to make her set the pace, to force her to push up into him over and over, it had served a dual purpose. He’d been having a tough time getting the muscles in his weak leg to cooperate during the act. His pride had been stung when she’d climbed on top, and so he’d thought he’d show her that he was as good as the next guy.

  Only he wasn’t. He couldn’t even make love to a woman without having to worry about his goddamned leg giving out in the middle of it.

  He sat on the lid of the commode and dragged both his hands through his hair. Staring down at his leg and the mangled flesh and skin grafts that stretched from his right hip to his knee, he winced. He couldn’t even stand to have a woman look at him. It was lights out, all the way.

  Kate had undoubtedly seen quite a bit of the damage during the massage, but not all of it. And certainly not the stuff on the inside.

  He stood and yanked on his briefs, letting the elastic waistband snap against his skin.

  “Where’d you get the scar?” Her voice came from the other side of the door.

  Was she kidding him? Scar...singular? He stepped into his slacks, zipping them up and fastening the button. “I already told you.”

  “No, not your leg. The one on your chest. Near your tattoo.”

  He glanced in the mirror at his other war wound. From a completely different war— and one that didn’t bother him nearly as much. That one had been fought on the streets of Chicago in back of a bar—over a woman, of all things. He’d allowed himself to be goaded into going into the alley to fight, only to have the other guy pull a knife on him. He’d seen the metallic glint just as it had come toward him—too late to duck away.

  The slice hadn’t been terribly deep, but it had almost bisected his left nipple and stretched halfway down his stomach, where it was inches away from meeting up with his other wound. He’d been a drunken fool. Way too young to have gotten into a situation like that.

  And it had sealed his decision to go into the military, as his father had basically disowned him that night. As soon as the stitches had come out, he’d gone to the nearest recruitment center and signed on the dotted line. The tattoo of an eagle on his left shoulder had come later, after he’d graduated from boot camp.

  Funny how that scar didn’t carry the same baggage as the other one. And he didn’t mind anyone seeing that one. He rubbed his chest. “I got it in a bar fight.”

  There was silence for a second. Then her voice came back through. “Really? Was that before or after your leg injury?”

  He doubted the outcome would have been quite the same if the fight had happened afterward. The other guy had wound up with a broken nose and a pair of black eyes once he’d kicked the knife out of his hand.

  No kicking anything out of anyone’s hand nowadays. “Before. I was young and stupid.”

  So what was his excuse now?

  “Are you almost done? I need the bathroom.”

  He dragged his shirt on over his head and opened the door. “It’s all yours. Listen, I’ll see myself out.”

  “I hate to ask, but would you mind giving me a lift to the hospital, if you’re headed that way? You mentioned Nick being there, and it would give me a chance to talk to him.”

  He wished he could say no and feel okay about it. But he couldn’t. He’d spent the night and had had sex with her not once but twice. And if he now told her to find her own way to the hospital, it would make him seem like a jerk. At least in his own eyes.

  “Sure.” He’d planned on stopping home to shower and change, but he kept a spare set of clothes at the hospital for nights when he was on call. He could shower there, as well. No one would ever be the wiser. “Can you be ready in twenty?”

  “Definitely.” She closed the door. “Feel free to call down for room service if you want something to eat. They’re pretty quick as long as you stick to the quick fare menu.”

  Room service. It figured.

  “I can wait until I get to the hospital.” He paused. “Do you want me to call down for something for you?”

  “No, I’m not a big breakfast eater. I’ll just grab some coffee at the hospital.”

  Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to the hospital and Luke parked his little car. As they walked through the entrance, a voice came from their left. “Kate?”

  Luke glanced toward the sound.

  Dammit. The very person he’d hoped to avoid this morning. Nick was walking down the hallway with Tiggy beside him.

  Nick cocked his head, as if realizing for the first time that Luke was with her. “Hey, how lucky is this, to all run into each other at the same time?”

  Luke held out his hand and shook Nick’s. “Lucky indeed.”

  Unfortunately, out of the corner of his eye he noticed Kate’s face go through a series of subtle color changes before it settled on pink. Bright pink.

  She leaned up to give the other man a kiss on the cheek then smiled at Tiggy. “Luke was just telling me y’all might be here today.”

  He couldn’t help but notice the typical southern expression, or Nick’s smile, which signaled the other man had caught it as well.

  “A few more minutes and you would have missed us,” Nick said, stretching his back. “Did you happen to ask Luke about next week?”

  Next week? Now what had the woman gone and done?

  “Oh, um. No. I thought you might like to do it yourself.”

  He reached a hand toward his wife, who took hold of it in both of hers. “We want you both to come and have dinner at our house next week.”

  Luke went very still. Kate knew about this and was supposed to tell him? And yet she’d said nothing?

  She was unbelievable. First she wanted him to put in a good word for her at the rehab center, and now she was busy planning dinner engagements for him as if they were a frigging couple or something.

  “And I take it Kate has already said yes.”

  “She has.”

  He sent her a sideways glare, noting her eyes were wide. With guilt? “She accepted for the both of us?”

  “No, but I’m sure she’d be glad if you came.”

  “She would, would she?” Luke’s eyes continued to zero in on her like laser scalpels, slicing his way to the truth.

  As if realizing something was off between the two of them, Nick frowned
, his glance skipping over him. Luke was well aware his clothes were wrinkled and he had a day’s worth of stubble on his chin—things he’d hoped to remedy by the time he saw his friend.

  “Are you just getting off work?” he said. “I thought you mentioned coming on duty about the time I finished with therapy.”

  Great. Now what?

  Kate was no help. She was staring at the pattern in the floor as if it had ancient Sanskrit writings hidden within it.

  “No, I was out last night. Just getting in, in fact. I thought I’d shower here at the hospital.”

  Nick’s attention turned to Kate, who, thank heavens, was much better groomed and who’d had a quick shower back at the hotel. “Well, I’m glad I caught you before I left.”

  Tiggy let go of his hand and dug around in her purse. “You already know where we live, but I wanted to give you our mobile numbers in case you need to get hold of us. We were thinking Tuesday evening. Could you come round at sixish? Would that work for both of you?”

  Kate’s head came up. “Fine with me.”

  It was too much to hope that he was on duty that night—but Luke didn’t think he was. “I’ll check my schedule and get back with you.”

  “I’m sure you’d love him to come, wouldn’t you, Kate?”

  Her eyes came up to meet his, and Luke swore he saw the barest hint of an apology in their blue depths. “Definitely. It wouldn’t be the same without him.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE REHAB CENTER was modern and up-to-date, and Kate had been totally shocked when Luke called her that afternoon and said he’d arranged a tour—if she still wanted to see it. She did.

  Laisse, one of the physical therapists, smiled at her. “Dr. Blackman tells me you’re well versed in LSVT therapy.”

 

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