Tales of the Winter Wolf, Vol. 5

by R. J. Blain

  Alex snorted. “Talked you into the big screen, did he? Poor you. I’m so sorry; he likes it too much for his own good.”

  “Then I am doing you a favor. I have decided the television and the pool are coming home with me.”

  “You’re going to steal the television and the pool?”

  “Sure am. Want to help? The television I think I can fit into Dad’s SUV with a little work, but the pool is going to be a bit trickier.”

  “A bit? You’re crazy, Nicolina. Have you seen the pool?”

  “That’s why I’m working on a way to steal it. I might need some help with it.”

  “I’ll say. How far are you into the movie?”

  “T-Rex hasn’t eaten the lawyer yet,” I complained. “Slacker fell asleep right before they fed the raptors. The power in the park just went off. Really, Alex. Who sleeps through Jurassic Park?”

  “Someone who is tired, perhaps?”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  “Richard’s a sound sleeper, so don’t worry about waking him when you go to bed. Did he give you a room for tonight?”

  “No, he hadn’t gotten there.”

  “Pick whichever one you want. If you need anything, just give me a call. If Richard has locked his phone, just speed dial number one on any of the landlines up there. Don’t mess with the phone with the weird box in his office. He left the door unlocked when he was in Seattle. If you do end up in that room, please just lock the door and leave. That’s the secure line, and no one is to touch it.”

  “Okay, Alex. No problem. I’ll call if there are any problems.”

  “Good night, Nicolina.” Alex hung up.

  I returned the phone to Richard’s pocket and decided to put Alex’s claim to the test. If Richard was such a sound sleeper, he wouldn’t notice me escaping him to refill my glass of champagne. I shuffled towards the edge of the bed, prepared to ease his head down so he wouldn’t hurt his neck again.

  I almost made it before Richard mumbled something, shifted his weight, and draped his arm over my stomach.

  “Leech,” I grumbled, taking hold of his wrist to shove his arm away. As he had at Christmas, he clung tighter. Unlike Christmas, he murmured something in his sleep, curling around me until his head nestled against my back.

  Without my parents, Lisa, or Alex to witness my capture and humiliate me, I enjoyed the feel of him wrapped around me, holding me close while he slumbered. Instead of annoyance and dismay, I relaxed.

  With him near me, I didn’t have to worry about Simon or any other wolves I didn’t want coming near. Richard remained because I allowed him to, though I shouldn’t have let him touch me at all. My fingers itched to touch him and brush his hair away from his face. I wiggled and twisted in his grasp until his head was pillowed on my lap.

  Richard was smiling in his sleep, and unable to resist, I traced my fingertips along the line of his jaw. The stubbly growth of a day-old beard tickled. I shivered, staring at his exposed throat.

  I’d been bitten enough times by rutting males to remember the thrill of the moment and the instant, burning need they woke in me.

  Richard hadn’t touched my throat, but I wanted him closer to me. I wasn’t supposed to want him.

  I didn’t like Richard. I hated him.

  I trembled, sliding my fingers along the line of his neck down to his shoulder. When I had hidden the rattler, I hadn’t really wanted to kill him. Had I simply wanted to drive him away from Lisa, or had I wanted something more?

  I didn’t just hate him, I loved hating him. I loved when I caught him off guard, the brown in his eyes flaring to fire-hot yellow when he glowered at me.

  I enjoyed angering him. I enjoyed making him hate me as much as I hated him.

  Biting my lip, I wondered what to do. If I let Richard go, if I let my father take him back to Seattle, Lisa would win. She’d find a way to claim him as hers, to sleep with him as she wanted, leaving me as the second-rate leftovers yet again.

  In my resentment over Lisa always winning, always leaving me in her shadow for the males she discarded, I had struck out at Richard. Instead of hating me like he was supposed to, he retaliated, playing my game.

  When I needed someone, he had come.

  I still hadn’t thanked him, not like he deserved. Instead of offering thanks and kindness, I had struck out at him and insulted him.

  Instead of driving him away, he kept coming closer and closer.

  Even with him wrapped around me, cuddling me as Alex claimed happened to anyone who ventured into Richard’s reach, I wanted more. I wanted him to experience the way I relaxed under his touch, able to sleep without needing medication. Stroking my way up his throat, I wondered which spot did it, and if it would affect him while he slept. Would he wake more refreshed? Would he know?

  If I woke him, how would he react to me touching him?

  Lifting my hand from his neck, I pressed my thumb to his lower lip. On the way to Yellowknife, he had kissed me in retaliation, taunting me with the words I had used on him.

  Richard clamped his teeth down on my thumb. Yelping, I yanked my hand back. He cracked open a wolf-yellow eye.

  My face burned.

  “What are you doing?” he mumbled.

  “Extricating myself from your demonic embrace,” I hissed, so embarrassed I wanted to curl in a corner and die.

  Richard blinked, and as comprehension lit his eyes, he gasped and lurched upright. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Nicolina.”

  “You’ll be sorry, Mr. Murphy. You fell asleep. You fell asleep before the lawyer got eaten.”

  Richard’s eyes widened, and he froze like an animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

  A pleasant shiver raced down my spine. For the moment, I was the one in control, the one holding the reins while he danced, horrified and embarrassed, to my tune. Expectation dried my throat, and after grabbing the glasses, I pursued him closer to the nightstand and the bottle of champagne.

  I held the flutes out. “You fell asleep with your glass in your hand, sir.”

  Richard’s eyes remained wide, but he obediently took the glasses out of my hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Mine’s empty,” I informed him, creeping closer. “You were so busy using me as a pillow I couldn’t refill it.”

  “Nicolina, I…”

  “Champagne, Richard. It’s in the bottle next to you.” I wiggled a little closer while he obeyed. When he offered the glass to me, I took it, had a sip, and handed it back. “You fell asleep first. I do believe that means I won.”

  Richard blinked, taking the flute back. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Set it down so I don’t spill it,” I suggested, fixing my gaze on his throat. “I won.”

  “So I heard.” He set my glass on the nightstand, turning to face me. “What have you won?”

  At the resignation in his voice, I scowled. “Maybe I want your obedience.”

  “My obedience,” he echoed.

  “Is that too much for you?” I murmured.

  Richard’s eyes brightened to a golden amber. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Show me how to do your magic hands neck thing,” I demanded, pointing at his throat. “Now.”

  Richard’s mouth dropped open, and for a long moment, he remained utterly silent. “You want me to what?”

  The chocolate liquor and the bubblies conspired, making me blurt, “You heard me. Magic hands neck thing. I want to know how to do it. I want to do it to you.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Richard leaned towards me, his gaze falling on my neck. “And why would you want to do that?”

  “Obey. I won,” I hissed.

  “Tell me why first.”

  I flushed, and because I had already gone so far, I mumbled, “I like it.”

  “What was that?” Richard whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

  I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and repeated, “I like it.”

  “So you want me to teach you because you like it, so
you can use it on me,” he murmured, his breath warming the side of my throat.

  Trembling at the feel of him so close, I swallowed and nodded.

  “You’re playing with fire. There’s little difference between me relaxing you and…” Trailing off, Richard pulled back, his gaze meeting mine.

  “And?”

  Richard lifted his hand, pressing his thumb against the side of my throat. Drawing a deep breath, he let it out in a slow exhale. “There’s little difference between making you want to sleep and making you want to sleep with me.”

  I sucked in a breath, heat washing over my cheeks to sweep down my neck and engulf my chest. “Oh.”

  “I can tell you how, but perhaps I should refrain from trying to show you.”

  There was only one thing I knew for certain: I needed to sink my teeth into Richard’s throat before someone else did. My sister wouldn’t hesitate to bite him if she ever found out she could lure him to bed that way.

  “Show me,” I demanded.

  “Nicolina!”

  It was more than wanting to claim him. He could tell me, but what if I somehow screwed it up? I flushed at the thought of what would happen if I nipped him wrong and made him want to sleep with me. That would be one way to have him.

  However, I also worried. What if I hurt his healing neck?

  The truth was both a weapon and a shield.

  “I don’t want to hurt your neck bumbling around like an idiot,” I complained, closing my eyes and tilting my chin to the side. “Show me. Please.”

  “Unless you try to rip out my jugular with your teeth, you aren’t going to hurt me,” Richard replied, laughter in his voice. His finger tips brushed my jaw, stroking towards my ear. When he pushed my hair away from my face, my breath caught in my throat. “There’s little difference between you making me want to sleep and making me want to sleep with you.”

  “Maybe I’m willing to risk it,” I whispered.

  Richard sucked in a breath. “You’re really going to get me killed. If your father finds out I even considered…”

  I shuddered at the thought of my overprotective father meddling with what I wanted yet again. “Not a word of this to anyone, Mr. Murphy. Not a word. No one will know. Especially not my father, my mother, or my sister. I will make hating you into an art.”

  Richard trailed a finger down my neck. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Desmond. They’ll smell me on you if we do that.”

  Something about his touch warmed me, and I leaned towards him, breathing in the scent of his shirt. Underneath the crisp aroma of clean laundry was the cinnamon spice of fresh cookies. “Perfume,” I murmured. “I already wear perfume. It screws with my parents’ noses. They hate it. That’s why I wear it. Especially the lilac; something about the smell of lilac bothers them.”

  Richard whispered in my ear, “It doesn’t bother me. And anyway, they’d smell you on me.”

  “I can’t help it that you’re a freak. So wear cologne. You have a jungle in your house, surely you have some cologne,” I replied, my heart drumming in my chest. “One that smells like cookies or spice. Something nice. Alternatively, I’ll get revenge on you for being such an insufferable jerk and spray all of your clothes with my perfume. You deserve it. And anyway, what does it matter? I’ll just say I stole your shirt because it was so silky and nice. I’ll collect them. If I’m going to pilfer your clothes, I’ll take your ties, especially the pink one. I really should steal it. I will. Just like I’ll take your pool, your television, and your kitchen.”

  “You little thief. You’re after my kitchen now, too? I’m going to have to search you before you leave, or you really will steal everything I own. Come on, even my ties? Is nothing sacred?”

  “You could just show me.”

  “You’re a determined little thief, aren’t you?” Instead of playing with my throat, Richard tilted my chin up with a finger. “Let’s make a deal.”

  I scowled. “What deal?”

  “I will show you under one condition.”

  I wanted to shriek my frustration, but instead, I drew a deep breath and held it. When I could speak without growling, I asked, “What condition?”

  Richard did growl, brushing his lips against my cheek on his way to my ear. He whispered, “I’ll show you how it’s done, but if I do, you will swear that the only man you’ll bite like this is me.”

  He wasn’t the only one who could growl. Mine, however, wasn’t as impressive. While his deep voice rumbled, to my disgust, I sounded more like my sister’s devil-spawned, squeaky kitten. “You better watch your teeth, too.”

  “I also insist you continue your absurd yet charming attempts to kill me,” he murmured.

  “Outwit you, outsmart you, and ensure you suffer the agonies of a living hell while thoroughly embarrassing you,” I corrected. “I can’t torment you if you’re dead.”

  Richard pressed his mouth to my throat. “I can live with that.”

  Halfway down my neck, Richard hesitated, lifting his hand to stroke me with the tips of his fingers. Heat spread from his touch, and I sucked in a breath at the pleasant tingle centered where his lips pressed against my skin. “The trick’s simple. It’s intent.”

  “Intent,” I echoed, struggling to catch my breath.

  “Intent. The nerves are the same. I look for the ones you react to, the ones that make you gasp and flinch, and I focus on them. Both times before, I wanted you to feel pleasant, good, and relaxed. I wanted you to sleep,” he said, his lips moving against my neck. His fingers stroked in slow circles near his mouth.

  Some part of me wanted to defy him, but his arms circled me and held me up as my body relaxed, the tingling spread. Richard nipped me once, little more than the touch of his teeth to my skin.

  I went completely limp, the pleasant lethargy sweeping over me from head to toe. Instead of lying me on the bed as he had done in the past, Richard pulled me to him, resting my cheek on his shoulder.

  “You do like that, don’t you?” Richard chuckled, his hand supporting my head and neck. “And you called me shameless.”

  “Mhmm.”

  “If I wanted to knock you out, it wouldn’t take much, just another touch or two. It’ll wear off in a few minutes. I meant what I said earlier. Scrunch your shoulders, duck your chin, and say no if you don’t want someone nipping you. Yes, even to me. Yes isn’t an all-access pass, either. You can say no any time you want. Once nipped, well, good luck fighting it. I don’t know a Fenerec or Fenerec-born who can. I can’t. Normals have an easier time with it, but we affect them, too.”

  “Feels nice,” I murmured, considering the benefits of falling asleep while Richard held me. It was fair play.

  “Nicolina, are you listening?” Richard huffed, holding me tighter to him.

  “You can bite me if you want,” I replied, pleased when I managed to snuggle closer.

  Richard growled. “You’re tempting me.”

  “Good.”

  ~~*~~

  When the effects of Richard’s bite wore off, the giddy relaxation made way for a slow, burning need for him and his touch. I tested my hands and feet, and when my body once again moved at my command, instead of pulling away, I pressed closer, pressing the tip of my nose to his throat.

  “You smell like cookies,” I informed him, breathing in his scent.

  Richard shifted his hold on me to check his watch. “Twenty minutes. Should I be concerned that your first coherent sentence compares me to food?”

  “Do not call cookies merely food,” I chided.

  “If you like cookies that much, I can bake you some.”

  I sucked in a breath. Richard could bake cookies? I couldn’t. When I tried, the flour ended up caked on the ceiling, all over me, and the rest of the kitchen, all without surrendering its delicious secrets. I could cook, but baking proved to be an elusive skill beyond my abilities. “You bake cookies.”

  Richard chuckled. “I am a man of many talents, Miss Desmond.”

  I growled. Determ
ined to strike before he could stop me, I latched my teeth onto his neck, hitting the spot Alex had shown me. A strangled gasp escaped him, and he slumped onto the bed, limp beneath me. I pounced, placing my hands on his shoulders, flattening him to the mattress. As Alex had done, I rubbed my hand over the spot, brisk and firm, my breathing quickening along with his.

  “That hurt,” Richard wheezed. “If you were trying for relaxed, I’m going to have to give you a failing grade.”

  “You bake cookies,” I hissed at him. His eyes gleamed yellow, and I could feel his heartbeat racing beneath my fingers. “Chocolate ones?”

  For a long moment, he stared up at me, gasping for breath. “Right now, if you’d like.”

  “I have you right where I want you right now,” I informed him. “You can bake me cookies later.”

  “How demanding,” he murmured.

  I smirked. “You snoozed.”

  “What are you going to do with me now?” Instead of meeting my gaze, Richard’s eyes focused on my mouth.

  That was a very good question. What was I going to do with him? I shivered, and forgetting I was clutching his shoulders, I flexed my hands. His silk shirt was slick beneath my fingers.

  I wanted him to be mine; mine to taunt, mine to tease, mine to outwit and outsmart. I couldn’t let Lisa have him, not without a fight.

  I couldn’t let anyone else have him, either.

  Leaning down, I whispered in his ear, “Mine.”

  Richard sucked in a breath. “Nicolina, I—”

  As he had given me a choice, I would give him the choice, but I stole a kiss first, silencing him by pressing my lips to his. When I pulled away, I drew a shaky breath, hoping I hadn’t ruined everything, and said, “You can duck your chin, scrunch your shoulders, and say no.”

  I tightened my grip on his shoulders, and then, finger by finger, I released him.

  I waited.

  “And if I say yes?” he whispered, his voice breathless.

  “You’ll sleep.” I let him wonder what I meant by sleep. I wanted him, but I wanted him to prove he wanted me, not just an evening of sex. Sex I could get easily.