Operation Wolf: Gunner ~ Sedona Venez

by Venez, Sedona

  “You look just as I imagined you would,” he whispered as he held his arms out to me. “Come to me, my mate.”

  Mate? My inner wolf shrilled. He’s not our mate. This is bullshit.

  Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other, suppressing the impulse to run in the opposite direction, like the hounds of hells were nipping at my heels.

  Carter was relaxed and welcoming right now, but I knew that could change in a moment. In the blink of an eye, I’d seen his rage surface at the smallest of infractions. Trembling, I stopped just in front of him, my shins barely touching his knees.

  “There you are,” he whispered, settling his hands around my waist and yanking me forward. “Come, sit on top of me.”

  Take a damn deep breath, Celine, and just jump into the pit of hell.

  I straddled his hips and tried not to flinch as he rubbed his repulsive erection between my legs.

  Oh my God, this is really happening.

  Panic choked off my air. Every muscle in my body tightened as he gripped the back of my head with his right hand, hard enough to hurt, bringing my lips down to meet his in a bruising kiss. Bile rose in my throat, and I fought the urge to throw up into his mouth.

  “Are you ready?” he murmured against my mouth, his cigar-laced breath sending shivers of revulsion down my spine.

  I nodded stiffly.

  “You seem a little . . . tense,” he remarked while digging his fingers into my shoulders with force.

  I knew that, if I were human, he would have left marks on my skin.

  “It’s our first time. I’m . . . just a little nervous,” I babbled.

  Taking a deep breath, I consciously willed my muscles to relax. It didn’t help that my inner beast was staging a one-woman revolt by running around in circles, snarling and growling obscenities.

  Maybe if I could get my body language to stop screaming no, he would be gentler with me.

  “I don’t want to disappoint you,” I whispered.

  “Oh, don’t worry, darling,” he said as his grip eased on my shoulders. “I’m sure you will please me very much.” He began trailing kisses down my jawline and throat, much in the same way that Gunner had done to me. “It will make things . . . easier for you if you do.”

  Gunner. My pulse quickened a little. Just think of Gunner. Everything will be fine if I just picture his smoking-hot body.

  Closing my eyes so I didn’t have to see Carter’s blond hair and pale brown eyes, I allowed the fantasy to form in my mind that it was Gunner I was straddling. Gunner was sliding his fingers into my hair, pressing kisses against my skin. A tiny moan escaped my lips as he began nibbling on my collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin there.

  “Mmm, I can smell your arousal. Do you want me, Celine?”

  The sound of Carter’s voice threatened to shatter my hot fantasy, and I squeezed my eyes tighter, holding on to the image of Gunner’s tousled dark hair and swirling silver eyes.

  Damn. I could get lost in those gorgeous eyes forever, caught up in their intensity, while drowning in my lust for him.

  Yes. Gunner.

  Desire came flooding through me like an ocean.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, please.”

  “All in due time.” His hands slid up my torso to cup my full breasts, and he pinched my nipples roughly.

  I cried out at the pleasure and pain, all while losing myself in the memory of Gunner circling his muscular arms around my waist, bringing my chest forward so he could capture my nipple with his mouth.

  Damn . . . his tongue feels so good . . .

  “Gunner,” I moaned, clutching at his head as he sucked on my taut bud.

  Carter stilled beneath my hands. “What did you say?”

  My eyes flew open. My breath left me in a rush as I saw Carter glaring at me. His eyes were bright with rage, his mouth compressed into a thin line.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Carter, I didn’t—”

  Pain exploded through my right cheek as he backhanded me, and I toppled off his lap and onto the floor.

  “How dare you say his name to me!” he shouted, jumping to his feet. “How dare you think about another man while I’m making love to you. You’ll pay for this, you little bitch,” he growled, advancing on me.

  I scooted back across the floor. “No!” I shouted. “I’m not taking your shit anymore.” Shaking with anger and adrenaline, I scrambled to my feet. My claws and fangs extended, magnifying the pain of my cheekbone that he’d broken, but I ignored the agony, intent on my enemy.

  “Fuck you, Carter. I’m a strong, independent woman, you bastard, and I won’t be treated like your damn little mouse anymore.”

  Carter’s body was massive compared to mine, but I didn’t give a shit if I died defending myself.

  Half-shifted, I sprang at him, my claws raking across the lower half of his face. He sidestepped before I could move in and sink my fangs into his throat. Carter grabbed my arm and flipped me onto my back, and my head knocked against the floor. Stars swam in my vision as I tried to struggle to my feet, but he was quickly on top of me, raining brutal blows down on my face and body, and it was all I could do to keep my arms up and try to block the worst of it.

  “Fuck you! I will never be yours,” I half sobbed, half snarled.

  Blindly, I fought back with every ounce of my will. It was the last thing I remembered before I blacked out from the pain of him beating the shit out of me.

  CHAPTER 14

  Gunner

  COOPER AND LANGSTROM ENTERPRISES to Join Together as One Big Conglomerate in Holy Matrimony, the headline read as I opened up the evening paper.

  Sighing in disgust, I resisted the urge to toss the paper and instead flipped to the next section. It had been two weeks since Celine and I last spoke. Two weeks since she and Carter had officially announced their engagement, and the press was still going on about it.

  “Rough day?”

  I looked up as Emily entered the kitchen, and I lowered the paper to the kitchen table, obscuring the headline so I wouldn’t have to see the flash of pity in her eyes. She’d been remarkably more subdued in her dislike of me ever since Celine had come to the house, and I wondered just how much of the situation she’d managed to figure out. I’d refused to speak of the incident to anyone, and Emily had never asked, so I had no idea what she knew.

  “Not really,” I answered truthfully. “Just didn’t get too much sleep last night.”

  I’d managed to keep my job at MoMA by the skin of my teeth but not without a little help from Jimmy—and, I suspected, interference from Celine. And, though I was walking on a tighter leash, it had been pretty smooth sailing so far.

  Emily nodded. “Well, I’ve observed some distressing changes to your aura lately,” she commented, turning her back to me as she rummaged through the refrigerator for ingredients to start dinner. “I imagine, if you could let out all that stress and negativity inside you, you might start to sleep better at night.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Doc,” I retorted.

  Emily turned toward me, a frown on her face, but before she could say anything more, the phone rang.

  “Excuse me,” she said, placing a bundle of carrots on the counter and rushing from the room.

  Not interested in hearing Emily chat with one of her Wiccan friends, I picked up the paper again and started perusing the Sports section. Then I froze as my keen hearing recognized the voice that spoke over the phone.

  “Is Gunner Norcross available?” The female voice was shaky but unmistakably Celine’s, and my sensitive hearing picked it up as clearly as if my ear were pressed to the phone.

  “I can see if he’s available,” Emily answered. “Who can I say is calling?”

  “Tell him it’s Celine,” she offered, “and that it’s urgent.”

  “One moment.” I heard Emily put down the phone, and a few seconds later, she entered the kitchen again. “I assume you heard all of that?”

  I nodded, not looking up from th
e paper. “Why don’t you take a message?”

  I jerked as Emily snatched the paper from my hands, and I looked up in surprise to see a thunderous scowl on her face.

  “Why are you doing this?” she snapped, hands on her hips. “She obviously needs you.”

  “She can go to her fiancé for whatever she needs,” I spat while getting to my feet before stomping out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  What the hell does Emily know about what’s really going on between us anyway?

  Celine was the one who had told me her problems weren’t mine to solve. But just as I reached the top of the stairs, I heard a sob. One that had come from the other end of the line. The pain-ridden sound tugged at my heartstrings, and with a curse, I bounded back down the stairs and picked up the phone.

  “Celine?”

  “Gunner,” Celine choked out. “Please, I can’t walk, and I need your help. I’m down by the South Street Seaport—”

  “Can’t walk?” I interrupted, cold dread freezing my insides. “What the hell do you mean, you can’t walk? Did you get into an accident?”

  “No, I . . .” Celine took a shuddering breath. “It’s Carter. I just need to get the fuck away. Gunner, please help me.”

  Red filled my vision at the mention of that bastard’s name, and my brain clicked as I put two and two together.

  That fucker hurt my mate.

  I memorized the information as she rattled off her location. “Stay there,” I barked. “I’m on my way.”

  I hung up the phone with bloodlust coursing through my veins. If I ever get my hands on that asshole, Carter . . . I’ll fucking kill him.

  * * *

  It was just my luck that Jimmy had decided early this morning to ride into work with a friend, so that I could use his vehicle for errands today. Though I moved as fast as I could, it took me nearly half an hour to get down to the Seaport, and then I had to park Jimmy’s Lincoln a block away. By the time I got there, I was worried Celine might not be there anymore. But a quick scan showed she was sitting on one of the lone wooden benches, staring at the water. My heart clenched as I took in her bedraggled form, which was hunched and bundled inside her coat.

  I stormed over to her. “Celine.” I sank to my knees and gathered her into my arms before I could think better of it. “What the hell happened?”

  “I fought back,” Celine muttered through cracked, bloody lips, looking up at me out of eyes that were surrounded by swollen, purple skin. Her slender fingers curled into the fabric of my coat with a surprisingly strong grip. “I finally had enough of Carter’s shit, and I fought back.”

  “Carter?” I could smell that bastard Carter’s scent all over her. “That son of a bitch!”

  A man hitting a woman was a punk move, but to touch my mate . . . that immediately put him on my fucking kill-on-sight list.

  “Please . . . I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Celine buried her face into my shoulder. “I just need some time to figure things out. Can you take me home? Please?”

  “Of course.” I soothed her, stroking her back, though I had no idea where home was.

  Does she live with her father?

  Because, if so, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to be around for the conversation that was bound to ensue if I brought her home, looking like this. Yet there wasn’t really any other option.

  “Can you walk?”

  “Yes. I think so,” she whispered.

  Struggling to get to her feet, she hunched over in pain again. Swiftly, I swung her up into my arms before she could collapse onto the pier.

  “Jesus, he really fucked you up.” I was trembling with rage. My hands were shaking so hard I had to force myself to stop so as not to further agitate Celine. Cradling her against my body, I walked back to the parking garage, ignoring the stares from the few people out on the streets at this time of night.

  “I’ve already healed a lot,” Celine rasped. “Just need you to wrap my ribs. I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

  I gently laid her out across the back seat of the Lincoln and strapped myself into the driver’s seat.

  “Where am I taking you?” I asked. She rattled off an address that I entered into my GPS before I maneuvered out of the parking garage. “Okay, Celine. Rest, I’ll take it from here.”

  “Thanks, Gunner.” Her voice sounded strained.

  I remained quiet for the rest of the twenty minutes it took me to wrestle through traffic to get there.

  Finally approaching her tree-lined townhouse only a few steps from Central Park, I parked. The block was eerily quiet. Most of the homes looked uninhabited or under construction.

  “I don’t have many neighbors.” Her voice sounded a little stronger, which was a good sign. “Most of these townhomes were purchased, gutted, and are now under renovation.”

  I came around to help Celine out. She took my hand and allowed me to help her to her feet. Unlike before, she was able to walk to the door, though she was still a little hunched over and had to cling to my arm for support. Muttering under her breath, she fished her keys from the pocket of the coat she wore and then fumbled with them for a few moments until she was able to open it.

  Bright, bold colors and geometric designs were the first impressions I got as I stepped into an open living space that was mostly dominated by the living room, with a dining table and chair set closest to me and a kitchen off to the right. I heard a sigh of relief from Celine as she closed the door behind me, and I led her to the turquoise-blue couch, gently but firmly settling her down onto it and tossing the bright yellow throw blanket lying over the back onto her.

  “I’m starting to feel a bit better now,” she announced, smiling weakly at me as I brushed a curl from her face.

  “Yeah, you’re healing up,” I concluded, allowing my touch to linger against her cheek for a moment.

  Her skin was so soft, so warm, and I just wanted to gather her into my arms and never let her go again.

  No. Bad idea. Time to put some distance between the two of us.

  But I chose to ignore my inner voice, and my hand moved to the top button of her coat. “We should get this off,” I told her, “so I can check your injuries.”

  Celine seized my hand. “Don’t,” she cautioned, her voice strained.

  I stilled. “Why? Don’t you want to get this coat off you?”

  “More than anything,” she hissed. Then shame filled her eyes again, and she looked away. “I just . . . I just don’t want you to see me like this,” she whispered.

  “Celine. I know how you must be feeling, but I really do need to make sure you’re all right. I promise, it’s okay.”

  I brushed my lips across her forehead, and after a long moment, she nodded.

  Despite my promise, it took a lot of restraint not to lash out at something or break into a rant after I removed the coat and saw the half-shredded lingerie beneath. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had gone down. Taking a deep breath to steady my shaking hands, I ran my hands and eyes over her body, checking for anything out of the ordinary, but there was nothing other than some fading bruises around her ribs and some dried blood that had congealed around healing scratches that were no more than pink lines.

  “Wh—” I choked and stopped myself. Clearing my throat, I continued, “Why did he do this to you?”

  Celine turned her face away. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered.

  “Has he done this before?” I demanded, unable to keep the heat from my voice. “Is this how he gets off? By making you a little black and blue before he fucks you?”

  “He’s never, ever fucked me!” Celine yelled as she reared up, hands balled into fists. Her irises were tinged with a glowing gold band. “I’ve never let him get as close as he did tonight,” she insisted more quietly now. “I said something that made him angry, and the two of us came to blows. It ended badly . . . for me, but I’m happy I was able to stand up for myself—finally. I blacked out somehow and woke up to find myself on the
floor and Carter nowhere in sight. Thank God.” She paused. “In spite of the pain, I knew I had to get the hell out of there before he came back. So, I grabbed my coat, shoes, cell, and keys and hightailed it out of his house. Confused and in pain, I limped around a little aimlessly before I got my shit together enough to think about calling a car service to pick me up . . . But look at me.” She gestured to herself. “I’m a damn hot mess, and I didn’t want some strange driver picking me up and recognizing me as the daughter of billionaire Damon Cooper and then snitching me out to the press. So, that’s when I decided to call you.”

  “Jesus.” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m glad you were able to stand up for yourself. I just wish—”

  “That I hadn’t gotten hurt,” Celine interjected, placing her hand atop mine. “I know.”

  We sat there for some time, my arm wrapped around her, as I tried hard to make her feel safe.

  It seemed like forever before I finally broke the silence. “Is your fridge stocked?” I demanded, withdrawing my hand from beneath hers and rising to my feet. “I want to get some food into you. It will help you heal faster.”

  “There should be some stuff in the freezer,” she replied, struggling to get to her feet.

  “Okay. Just rest.” I caught her by the arm, lowering her back down to the sofa. “I’ll be right back.”

  She shook her head. “I just need to get out of these . . .” She gestured helplessly to the rags she was wearing, biting her lip. “Get the stench of him off me.”

  “Of course.” I could have kicked myself.

  It made sense that she wanted to get out of the shredded lingerie and remove any trace of his scent. If I hadn’t been so rattled, I would have suggested it myself already.

  “Do you need help?”

  “I can do it.” She smiled faintly. “I’ll be out in a few.”

  An hour later, we were sitting at the dining table, steadily working our way through the pile of medium-rare hamburgers I had fried up.

  “These aren’t half bad,” Celine said around a mouthful of what had to be her third burger, sounding a bit more like her old self. “Did you work as a short-order cook or something?”