Werewolf in Manhattan (Wild About You Book 1)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “What do you mean by that?” Her voice rose in pitch.

  “Let’s take care of Theo and figure out the best way to get him home. Then we’ll discuss the options.”

  “There’s only one option. I’m leaving for Denver in the morning to continue my book tour.” Her chin lifted in defiance.

  In truth he wasn’t sure how to handle this. Security had been breached, and precautions must be taken. He couldn’t just let her fly off to Denver by herself. Not after she’d witnessed something like this.

  “I’ll get the washcloths.” He went into the bathroom.

  She followed him. “Look, Aidan, I don’t care how rich you are or how much real estate you own. I don’t care if every single Wallace is a werewolf.”

  Thinking discretion was the better part of valor, he pulled white washcloths from the towel rack and stuck two under the faucet.

  “I’m a free citizen of the United States of America,” she continued bravely, “and I’m going to Denver in the morning.”

  He squeezed out the washcloths. “These should work for Theo.”

  She took the washcloths and tossed them on the counter. “I mean it, Aidan. Don’t mess with my book tour. It’s important to my career.”

  “I know.” He took a dry washcloth and pressed it against the wound in his leg.

  She was standing close to him, close enough that her scent had begun working on him again. In the heat of battle, he blocked out any irrelevant sensory impressions, but after a battle, there was always the urge to release tension in some way. A run through the woods worked. Sex worked.

  “Here, let me do that.” She crouched down beside him. Apparently she no longer felt the need for the bubble of protection she’d claimed earlier.

  “I’ve got it. Go see about Theo.” He didn’t dare look at her. From this position he could see down the front of her little black dress.

  “You’re a real bossy-pants, Aidan, do you know that?”

  “Just go check on him, please.”

  “All right.” With a sigh she rose, grabbed a washcloth from the counter, and walked into the bedroom.

  He watched her go, his attention captured by the way her firm little backside moved seductively under the stretchy black material of her cocktail dress. His tailbone began to ache.

  She called to him from the bedroom. “He’s gone!”

  Tossing the washcloth in the sink, Aidan left the bathroom. Sure enough, Theo was no longer lying unconscious on the floor.

  Aidan wasn’t all that surprised. If he’d been in Theo’s place, he would have cut out the minute he regained consciousness. But the kid couldn’t have made it down the elevator and through the lobby naked.

  Then Aidan figured it out. “Looks like he took the top sheet from your bed and wrapped himself in that so he could ride the elevator to the lobby.”

  Her eyes widened. “And then what? He couldn’t hail a cab wearing a sheet. No cab driver is going to take a chance on picking up what looks like a loony.”

  “I’m sure once he made it out to the sidewalk, he found a dark alley and shifted back to wolf form. He’s running now, and praying nobody ever finds out how thoroughly he was humiliated tonight.”

  Emma walked over to the bedroom window and pulled back the curtain. “I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him after the way he’s behaved, but I still hate to think of him alone out there in the cold, especially when he’s hurt. I popped him good with that hair dryer and he had some gashes on his throat, too.”

  “He’s a wolf, Emma. This is how a wolf reacts to humiliation. That was my goal, to humiliate and intimidate him. I wanted his complete surrender and I got it.”

  She shivered. “That seems harsh.”

  “He was prepared to reveal himself to a human and break pack law. He had to be dealt with.”

  She gazed at him. “But he succeeded, didn’t he? He did reveal himself to me. And so did you.”

  “Yes.”

  She continued to stare at him, and judging from her expression, she was beginning to realize the enormity of the problem. “Well.”

  This would be the time to offer some comforting platitude like it’ll all work out. But he was too honest to give her false hope. He wasn’t sure how it would work out.

  Her attention moved to his leg. “You’re still bleeding. Let’s at least solve that issue. Go on back in the bathroom and let me see if I can get it to stop.”

  “All right.” Tending to his wound seemed like the sensible thing to do, so he followed her suggestion, or rather, her order. He understood why she, too, might be getting a little bossy.

  Her previous worldview had been shattered, and in sorting through the wreckage, she was trying to regain some measure of control. He could allow her to dictate how his wound should be tended, but he couldn’t let her decide how the next few days would go, or maybe even the next few weeks or months.

  He wondered if she realized that her life had changed forever and it was never changing back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emma was beginning to get the picture, and it was an unsettling one. Now that the initial shock had worn off and she could think, she’d started piecing things together. Apparently she’d stumbled upon a group of beings who didn’t want their presence known.

  Or more precisely, they’d stumbled upon her. All she’d intended to do was promote her book. She hadn’t invited real werewolves to show up. But they had, and now she possessed knowledge that the werewolves didn’t want other humans to find out.

  If not for Aidan, she’d fear for her life. The simple way to plug the hole would be to eliminate her. Problem solved. But Aidan wielded power among werewolves. She’d seen that demonstrated with Theo. Aidan wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She was counting on that.

  So the first order of business was taking care of her protector’s leg. She also wanted information, lots of information. The more she knew about this strange new world, the less she’d have to fear from it. At least that was the theory.

  Back in the bathroom, she dampened a washcloth and knelt down so she could dab at his wound. “I want to clean it up a little before I apply pressure. Do you suppose you need a Tetanus shot?”

  “No.”

  “Rabies?”

  “Werewolves are incredibly resistant to any kind of disease.”

  She made a mental note of that. “Why?”

  “We’re a very old species. We’ve built up immunity to most of the diseases known to either man or beast.”

  “Makes sense.” She pressed the damp washcloth against the jagged tear in his skin, skin that looked and felt like that of a man, but which could transform into the hide of a wolf. Despite being in a very precarious spot, she was fascinated at the prospect of interacting with a creature she’d thought only lived in her imagination.

  “I’ll bet modern science would love to tap into that immune system.” She said it without thinking, but the heavy silence that greeted her comment conveyed volumes. “But of course that’s impossible,” she said quickly, “because then they’d know you existed.” Be smart, Emma. Even Aidan might not be able to protect you if you keep making remarks like that.

  “In the old days werewolves were hunted almost to extinction,” Aidan said. “We’re not eager to go back to those times.”

  “I’m sure not. Aidan, you can trust me. I’m not going to put you or the others at risk.”

  “That’s easy to say, Emma. Harder to do.”

  Her sense of uneasiness grew, but she was reluctant to ask the hard questions for fear she’d get some hard answers. She liked her life the way it was. She didn’t want it to change.

  “The bleeding’s slowing down some.” She held a dry washcloth against his leg and braced her other hand on the far side of his calf to apply some pressure to the wound. “I’m beginning to understand what the arranged marriage is about. You’re like the prince of the Wallace family, and Nadia is the princess of the Henderson family.”

  “We generally use
the word pack instead of family.”

  “Even when you’re in human form?” She found herself becoming more aware of his human form. He’d fastened a towel around his waist, but other than that, he was naked.

  “Obviously not around other humans. But pack loyalty is important, even when we’re in human form. Although we spend the majority of our lives as humans, our wolf instincts remain strong.”

  The thrill of facing the unknown coursed through her. She might as well admit that she’d chosen to write about werewolves because she found them erotic. And now, here was an actual werewolf, right here in the bathroom with her. An almost naked werewolf.

  Her body responded with a rush of moisture. But he was wounded. He needed rest and relaxation, not a roll in her king-sized bed.

  If she couldn’t satisfy her craving for him, she could at least satisfy her curiosity. “When you shift from a human to a werewolf, what does that feel like?”

  “It depends on how long I have to go through the process. Ideally I can anticipate having to shift and allow plenty of time. Tonight that wasn’t the case, so tomorrow I’m going to be a little sore.”

  “And you can shift at will, no matter what the moon phase is?” Could he shift now, while she was holding on to his leg? But she wouldn’t ask that of him. This wasn’t a parlor trick for her amusement.

  “The moon’s no longer a factor for us. It was centuries ago, but we’ve learned quite a bit about how the physiology works and we’re no longer dependent on the moon.”

  So he was capable of shifting at any time. That was both exciting and intimidating. “When I created my werewolves, I wanted them to shift whenever they chose to. The story wouldn’t move very fast if they only shifted every twenty-eight days.”

  “I remember how impressed I was when I read your first book and saw that you’d set it up that way.”

  She couldn’t believe they were calmly discussing the reality of shape shifting. Last night she’d had sex with a werewolf. Doggie style. That took on new meaning, now. Erotic meaning. “What mind and body control you must have.” She realized that she’d begun stroking his leg and stopped immediately.

  “Most of the time I have control.” His breath hissed out between his teeth and he pulled his leg from her grasp. “That’s enough. I’m fine.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” He edged toward the bathroom door. I’m just…you don’t have to…maybe I should get dressed.”

  “Aidan, you look as if you’re in pain. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’ll go to my room and grab some clothes.”

  She scrambled to her feet and followed him. “Use the hotel robe instead. You need to bandage your leg. I’ll call room service and have some first aid supplies sent up.”

  He whirled. “Don’t follow me, Emma!”

  “Aidan?” She looked closer. His chest hair was thicker now than it had been a minute ago. Her pulse rate jumped. “Are you…shifting?”

  “Yes, damn it, I am. This doesn’t happen to all werewolves. Just me. It’s a genetic defect. If I become aroused and frustrated, I start to shift.”

  She glanced at the towel around his waist and noted the tenting effect. Knowing what lay beneath that terrycloth created a corresponding ache in her womb. “But if you have sex?”

  “Satisfaction reverses the process. But considering the evening’s events, sex isn’t what either of us needs right now.”

  She swallowed. God, but he excited her. “Speak for yourself. Considering the evening’s events, a little sexual release sounds like a wonderful idea to me.”

  “It will only complicate things more.”

  “Or simplify them. Your choice, of course, but if you’d rather reverse the process with my help, I’ll be in my bedroom. Naked.”

  She turned and walked back through the doorway, stepping over the shattered remains of what was once a door. Then she paused and glanced back at him. “This time you won’t have to break down a door to get to me.”

  Her scent telegraphed her readiness and gave him a trail to follow. Every wolf instinct drove him forward, but reason held him back. He still had no plan. In the morning he’d have to alert the pack that security had been breached…his fault, mostly. Then he’d have to lay out a procedure for handling that breach.

  He needed to think, to plan, to strategize. Both Emma’s future and his depended on how he handled this situation. Losing himself in the wonders of her body wouldn’t help him figure that out and it might cloud his mind.

  Check that. It definitely would cloud his mind. When confronted with the powerful aphrodisiac that was Emma’s essence, he struggled to remember his own name. The more he allowed himself to succumb to that heady feeling, the more complicated the problem became.

  But her scent…how could he ignore that siren call? Lifting his head, he sniffed the air. The rustle of clothing would have told him, as well, but his nose gave him the first indication that she was undressing, just as she’d promised.

  His balls tightened and his cock grew hard. He knew the moment she slipped off her panties, because her scent swirled around her and drifted through that open door, inviting him inside, inviting him to take her.

  Once she’d announced her willingness, both in words and the seductive sway of her body as she’d left the room, his shift had begun to reverse. If he turned away from her and denied himself, the shift would resume. He’d spend precious moments trying to subdue his sexual urges and retain his human shape, moments he could ill afford to lose.

  Was bedding her the most efficient use of his time and energy, then? He considered that with a self-mocking smile. But the thought had merit.

  Once he’d satisfied this craving, he’d be free to tackle the problems at hand. He’d be able to focus, whereas now…now his brain was filled with the red haze of lust.

  She’d asked him to take her, requested the release for herself. She’d suffered a shock, and he was the cause of that shock. Easing her tension was the least he could do, under the circumstances. Granting her wish would be a kindness. And he was a kind being. Oh, yes. Very kind. He smiled again, amused at his ability to rationalize what he’d known all along he would do.

  He pictured her lying in that big bed, her golden hair fanned across the pillow, her creamy thighs spread in welcome. Come morning, he’d have to abandon all thoughts of sinking into her warmth. But it was not morning yet.

  With a low growl, he ripped the towel from his waist and strode into the bedroom. She’d left a small lamp on the dressing table turned on. The room was cast in shadow, and shadows were his element.

  “Hello, Aidan.”

  “Hello, Emma.” He gazed at her lying on the bed almost exactly as he’d imagined. Resting one knee on the mattress, he leaned down to claim her mouth. He’d taken her in wolf fashion the night before, but he would be more careful this time. He’d possess her the way a man possessed a woman. That might keep the bonds from becoming too strong.

  Slowly he stroked her breasts as he continued to kiss her lips, angling his head, using his tongue, nibbling and tasting, finding traces of chocolate, of coffee, and most of all, hot desire. She tunneled her fingers through his hair and gripped the back of his head, rising to meet his kisses.

  He gave thanks that he had command of a man’s body as well as the form of a wolf. Without a man’s body, he would not be able to savor this prelude, this dance of mouths that taunted them both with what was to come. He would not have hands with which to fondle, fingers to rub and squeeze.

  Sometimes, when his wolf nature was dominant, he became impatient with foreplay. Tonight he cherished Emma’s sighs of pleasure as he played upon her voluptuous body.

  When her nipples grew tight and her breasts lifted into his caress, he swept his hand downward over her flat stomach to her soft curls and onward to the heat that had brought him here. As he touched her there, sliding his fingers inside her wet channel, the urge to join with her became a driving force, an ache so strong that his pelvis
jerked in reaction.

  Her moan of need echoed his own. Her rapid breathing and restless hips told him it was time.

  She wrenched her mouth free of his. “Condoms.” She gulped for air. “Bedside table.”

  He kissed her again as anticipation unfurled within him. He hadn’t considered this consequence of the night’s events, but now that Emma knew what he was, he was free to experience sex without a latex barrier. “There’s no need for condoms.”

  “But—”

  “I couldn’t tell you before.” He dropped kisses on her cheeks, her throat, her breasts. “I can’t make you pregnant.”

  “Whoa, big boy.” She cupped his face in both hands. Breathing hard, she nevertheless delivered her message. “That sounds like a line of bull.” She took another quick breath. “We used one last night.”

  “You thought I was human last night.”

  “You’re very like a human right now.”

  “But not the same.”

  Her words were filled with the strain of curbing her excitement. “So you can’t make babies?”

  “Not unless we’re mated.”

  “Mated?”

  “In the werewolf sense, for life.”

  She looked doubtful.

  “Trust me.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “In my case, it’s true. You can.” He moved between her thighs and probed gently with the tip of his cock. “Will you trust me, Emma?”

  She met his gaze, her kiss-swollen lips parted as she took rapid, shallow breaths. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

  For a brief moment he was humbled by her surrender. Then the demands of his body sent him surging forward, thrusting deep, burying his quivering cock in her wet warmth.

  Murmuring her name, he withdrew and drove in again. Once again the sensation of gliding into her with nothing between them but their own slick moisture made him gasp in delight. The glorious friction prompted him to pump again.

  He groaned. Sliding his hands under her bottom, he cupped her satin skin and pushed in as far as he could go until they were locked in tight. “Emma, this is…”