Is that was this feeling was? Love? Why did it feel so much like envy and wishfulness? “I’m afraid I want to belong somewhere so badly, I’ll shoehorn myself in where I don’t belong. And the whole time I’m trying to convince myself that I’ve done right, I still won’t have that home feeling.”
“So you’re planning to leave.”
“I really don’t have any plans.”
“Which means you aren’t planning to stay.”
I was really just taking it one day at a time. But a lifetime is made of individual days. If I didn’t figure something out, I was going to reach my deathbed and still be wondering where I belonged.
Caleb was still tense, waiting for my answer. He shoved away from the table, pacing away from me. He ran his hands through his hair. He paced back, stopping just in front of me. “Make a decision,” he snarled. “Either stay here, or don’t, but quit jerking the rest of us around.”
I scowled at him as the last couple hours of camaraderie went up in smoke. “Don’t give me orders,” I snapped. “I haven’t made any promises. I’m not jerking anybody around.”
Caleb’s expression shifted to frustrated incredulity. “How can you be so oblivious?”
He may as well have called me stupid. I launched out of my chair, closing the distance between us. “Just because I’m not doing what you want—” I jabbed a finger into his chest “—doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not obligated—”
“Aren’t you?” Caleb demanded, grabbing my shoulders and looking hard into my eyes.
I could tell by his grip that he wanted to shake me. I slapped his hands away. “Is that what you think?” I demanded. “I owe you something?”
“Yes!” he bellowed, moving as if to grab me again, then thinking better of it and running his fingers through his hair. “That’s what relationships are! Jesus, Grace. Do you care about anyone? Do you even know how to?”
That one hit right on the mark. Instead of filling me with brittle coldness, I felt a hot wave of self-righteous anger. “Just because I fucked you, you think you own me now?”
“Is that all that was? A fuck?”
I hesitated. It had felt like more—so much more. But the more was terrifying. The last time I gave someone more, he ended up being an undead murderer who’d tracked me down even after I fled across a continent to escape him. And now I was staring into the golden, gleaming eyes of another enraged, supernatural predator. But I wasn’t scared of Caleb. I was scared of what I felt for him.
When I opened my mouth, my throat closed, and I couldn’t get the words out.
With a disgusted sound, Caleb turned away from me, headed for the door.
“Wait—” I grabbed his sleeve.
He turned back to me with stunning speed. Suddenly, his arms were around me as his mouth met mine in a rough, demanding kiss that silenced my thoughts and lit my body up like a Roman candle. There was no fear here, no questions. There was just heat and hunger and something softer, sweeter, that I didn’t have words for. It was just Caleb. The cantankerous but trustworthy man who’d broken apart the ice inside of me, who challenged me and comforted me and wanted me.
But the energy of our fight was still coursing through me—coursing through both of us—and the collision of our bodies became a battle. He tore my sweater off and I ripped his shirt open. He grabbed me by the thighs, hoisting me up, trying to hold me in place. But I clambered higher, so that he had to tilt his head up to receive my kisses, so that he had to strain for a taste of me.
Growling, he laid me on the table, bending over me, caging me with his big body. I fisted my hand in his hair, yanking his head back and biting at the tender skin on his neck. He made a choked sound, his hips bucking against me as his hands clenching on my waist hard enough to hurt.
“Grace,” he growled my name, grinding the rigid length of his erection against my core.
Pleasure lanced through me, making me momentarily weak. Caleb seized the opportunity, reaching for the zipper on my jeans. He knelt on the floor as he tugged them down my legs. When I was left in just my panties, he pulled my legs over his shoulders and pressed his face between my thighs.
“Going to taste you,” he told me, lips moving against my slick, swollen flesh. He licked me through my underwear and growled his pleasure. The sound vibrated against me, teasing my clit. Pleasure overwhelmed me, leaving me helpless and arching against him. Vaguely, I had the sense that I’d lost our battle, but how much of a loss was it when that beautifully masculine face was pressed between my thighs?
He ripped my underwear—literally just tore them off my body—and flung them away. And then his mouth was directly on me. His tongue swept through my folds and he growled again as he licked and sucked and savored me. He found my clit and lavished it with sloppy, suckling kisses until my back was arched so hard I thought I was going to rise right out of my own body.
Right as I neared the edge of orgasm, Caleb pulled away. I let out a wordless cry of frustration, tugging on his hair. He chuckled demonically.
“Demanding,” he said with a wicked smile.
“I’ll show you demanding.” I slid off the table and onto Caleb, letting my weight bear him down to the floor. The quivering tension of my thwarted orgasm made me clumsy, shaky, but I was determined. “Get rid of these,” I said, pulling at the waistband of his jeans.
Eyes bright, even in the nighttime dimness, he lifted his hips and shoved both jeans and underwear down in one swift motion. His expression was cool, bemused, but his cock was straining up to his belly, the tip weeping with pre-come. When I laid a hand on his hip, his whole body quivered like a racehorse at the starting gate. He licked his lips, eyes meeting mine.
I lowered my head and flicked my tongue against the tip of his cock. He made a pained noise, deep in his throat. The cool bemusement fell away from his face, revealing raw, desperate hunger. Empowered by his need, I took him in my hand and licked a low, lingering trail along the underside of his shaft. When I reached the head of his cock, I closed my lips over him and sucked.
He let out a strangled groan, head falling back. His body trembled beneath me, but he remained still. The control I had over his pleasure, the need in his eyes, was an intoxicating power. I took more of him into my mouth, sinking deep until I felt him at the back of my throat, keeping the rest of him clasped in my hands. Caleb groaned again and again as I slid my mouth up and down his shaft, cheeks hollowed as I sucked and licked. One big hand came to rest on my head, but he wasn’t trying to control me—he just needed to touch me. I savored the feel of his fingers curling into my hair, the agonized moans being torn from his throat, the subtle flex of his hips as he fought the urge to thrust into my mouth. I worked him until I felt his whole body tense—and then I pulled away.
“Ah, fuck!” Caleb hissed, as if he hadn’t known it was coming.
“Turnabout’s fair play,” I told him sweetly, trailing one finger in a featherlight touch over the head of his cock. His cock pulsed heavily and more pre-come seeped out. Suddenly, I stood up. “Well. Goodnight.”
“What?”
I started for the ladder, climbing to the lofted bed. “It’s late. I’m tired.”
“Like fucking hell you are!”
I heard his big body scrambling upright. Biting back wild laughter, I hurried up the ladder. I dove onto the bed—just as Caleb reached the top. He lunged after me and we collided in a hectic tangle of mouths and hands and teeth and claws. He pinned me beneath his big body, licking and biting at my lips and my neck and my shoulders and anywhere he could get his mouth on me. I gave as good as I got, clinging to him, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. He reached down, grasping my thighs, and spreading them wide. And then he was inside me, big and hard and filling me so good, there wasn’t room for anything but the awareness of him, the feeling of him, moving in me and on me, harder and faster until I shattered apart as I sobbed his name.
Some time later, when we’d both caught our breath, Caleb rolled of
f of me. We lay sprawled beside each other on the big bed, staring at the rough timber beams on the ceiling. The same question I’d been avoiding the last time we had sex was ringing in my ears again, eroding the contented after-glow I should be feeling. But something had changed, just a little. Caleb told me that he wanted me to be part of the pack—got frustrated when I couldn’t admit that I belonged. It gave me just enough hope to try and be brave.
“I have a question.” There was an embarrassing quaver in my voice, but I wasn’t going to let myself chicken out. I needed to do this.
Caleb tilted his head towards me. “And what’s that?” His expression was one of easy self-assurance, but there was something in his eyes that didn’t quite sell it.
“Are we just scratching an itch? Or are we… together?” I asked.
In a single blink, he became a stranger. “Well, I guess that depends.” I found myself facing the silent, taciturn pilot who’d first flown me into Longtooth. Seeing him close off like that filled me with apprehension. But it was time to stop wishing, and start doing. I had to be brave and see what came of it.
“I want that,” I said, my voice fragile. “But I need you to tell me what you want.”
The warmth came back as if a fire had kindled behind his eyes. His dark irises gleamed with amber heat. “Yes, I want that, Grace. I want you.” He cupped the back of my head and pulled me towards him, capturing my mouth in a long, deep kiss.
Happiness and relief and disbelief rushed through me, combining with the pleasure of kissing Caleb. I gasped for breath, clinging to his shoulders as I met the possessive hunger in his kiss, matched it with my own. Biting, sucking, licking, the kiss turned hotter and heavier. Caleb’s big body pressed hard against mine, his hands gripping me with desperate strength, like I might run away. I felt the urgent press of his erection jutting against my hip.
I pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide. “You’re ready to go again? Already?”
He smiled rakishly. “Impressed?”
To be honest, yes, I was. I pushed him onto his back and slid astride his hips. “I’m on top this time.”
Caleb’s hands grasped my hips. His eyes gleamed with golden heat. “I’m yours, any way you want me.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I woke to the feel of a big, warm body looming over mine. Caleb pressed his lips to my forehead and I wrapped my arms against his neck, holding him tightly to me.
“Gracie,” he said warmly. “Don’t get me revved up. I have to head out and run tracks for a few hours. Jess picked up his scent last night.”
“Should I come?”
“No, I’m going to be in my wolf skin. You wouldn’t be able to keep up.”
“You could use me as bait.”
Caleb stiffened. “Not a chance in hell,” he growled. “There are too many things that could go wrong.”
“So I’m just supposed to hide in this cabin by myself until he’s caught?”
“Yes.”
Morning light seeped in around the curtains, giving me just enough light to see the ferocity in Caleb’s eyes.
“What if you never catch him?” I demanded. “What if he just gives up and leaves?”
Caleb snorted. “He won’t leave. They never do. They fixate—and he’s fixated on you. Until he gets you, he won’t go anywhere.”
“Oh.” Dread shivered down my spine.
“He’s not going to get you, Grace,” Caleb told me, totally certain. “We’ve got his scent and a slight trail. We might be able to find his lair today and take care of him while he’s in his daysleep.”
“How do you… ‘take care’ of him?”
Caleb hesitated. “Are you sure you want to know?”
I nodded.
“They’re not alive, so it’s not enough to give them the sort of injury that would kill a human. Even severing the head isn’t enough—the body can eventually crawl over and hold it back on until it heals.”
I felt my face twisting into a grimace, but I couldn’t help it.
“Should I stop?” Caleb asked.
“No, tell me the rest.” I tried to school my face into something less horrified.
“They have to be utterly destroyed—broken down so far that they have no hope of reassembling. Theoretically, we could just tear them apart with our teeth until the pieces are too small to move on their own. But we’ve never trusted leaving anything intact. The surest way is to burn them to ash. It’s not discreet, but it’s easy enough to do out in the wilderness. I’ve heard of city-dwelling packs using acid to dissolve the bodies.”
I shuddered again.
“Sorry,” Caleb said softly, cupping my face and tracing my cheek with his thumb.
“No, I wanted to know. I’m glad I know.”
“Are you going to be okay? I can text Margaret and tell her I can’t track today.”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “The sooner you get out there and find him, the sooner life can go back to normal.”
“I’ll be back well before sundown,” he promised. He pressed a long, hard kiss to my lips, and then he was out of bed and disappearing down the ladder.
I’d packed the beautiful blue yarn and all the knitting supplies Caleb had gotten for me, so I spent the day knitting. I’d also packed books, but reading was too sedate for my current state of mind. I needed something to do, something to keep both my hands and my mind busy. I started working on a men’s sweater, estimating the measurements for Caleb’s size. Gifting it to him would be my final act in our yarn war.
It was mid-afternoon when I heard a scratch at the door and a canine whine.
“Just a second!” I called. I quickly wrapped up my project and hid it away in my bag.
When I opened the door, Caleb was waiting in his wolf skin. He was so beautiful, I instinctively reached out to touch him. He leaned into my touch, groaning as I rubbed his ears. His massive tail swished contentedly. A second later, I felt his shape change. His fur receded and he grew broader, taller—taking my hand with him. When he stood before me in human form, my hand was still curled into his hair, and he was still leaning happily into my touch.
“Wow,” I said, breathless. I’d never actually seen him shift before. Or felt it. He’d always done it when I was looking away.
Caleb’s eyes crinkled as he took in my reaction. His gaze softened, and he touched my cheek. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. Kept busy. How did the search go?”
“Nothing yet. The track we picked up was a false lead—probably laid on purpose. But there are others still searching. We know our land inside and out. There’s nowhere he can hide where we won’t find him.”
The interminable waiting and my inability to do anything about it frustrated me. I felt helpless, and it was doubly frustrating, because it was my problem, and I wasn’t allowed to try to solve it. Instead, I had to sit around and twiddle my thumbs. But it wasn’t Caleb’s fault. I was just human, and too weak and useless compared to what the wolf-kin could do. At best, I would only get in the way. At worst, I would get myself killed.
So I simply nodded and turned to the window, looking out at the fading afternoon light. Where was he? Somewhere nearby, where he could watch the cabin, waiting for his chance?
“I’ll start the stove,” I said, turning abruptly away from the window. “And heat up the stew.” In addition to pierogies, Natasha had sent caribou stew, salmon cakes, some sort of hearty rabbit casserole, and goose soup with dumplings.
“Alright,” Caleb said, sounding cautious.
I could feel him watching me as I struck a match and lit the old gas burner. I kept my attention on the kitchen, my back turned to him, as I put a pot on the stove and dumped the stew into it.
“I’m sorry, Grace.” Caleb’s voice came from behind me—right behind me. I turned to face him.
“Sorry for what?”
“I’m sorry you’re trapped here.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Doesn’t make it fair.” He touched m
y cheek. “It’ll be over soon.”
“I know.” I leaned against him, grateful that I could. I’d been aching to touch him for so long, longer even than I’d been aware of the ache. The fact that I could do so freely, that he would welcome the touch, reciprocate it, filled me with a warm glow that chased away the feelings of helpless frustration.
Caleb wrapped his arms around me. “How long will the stew take to heat up?”
“I don’t know. A few minutes?”
“I have an idea for how we can pass the time.”
“Pass the time? It’s only going to a be few min—ohhh, gotcha.”
He lifted the hem of my sweater and I raised my arms so he could pull it over my head. His hands went to my jeans next, and I smiled lazily, letting him do all the work. He knelt to shuck them down my legs and I leaned on his shoulder as I stepped out of them. His fingers curled into the waistband of my panties next, and I figured I’d be generous and get my bra off for him. It slipped down my arms and I dropped it on my pile of clothes as Caleb slowly peeled my panties down, kissing and licking each inch of bared skin.
This was the first time I’d gotten naked with him in full daylight, but I didn’t feel any insecurity. He worshipped my body with his fingers and mouth, and all I could think about was the feel of him, the pleasure of him. There was no room for shyness.
His nose skimmed along my mons, but he didn’t put his mouth on me there. Instead, he tilted his head, pressing a teasing kiss to my thigh. Then another kiss, and another, working his way inside, closer to the needy spot that was throbbing for his touch. His tongue stroked over the sensitive skin on the crease between my thigh and my sex.
He stopped. Drew back.
“Caleb?”
He hooked one hand behind my knee and lifted my leg, splaying it out. It wasn’t a sexy, spreading-my-legs-so-he-could-feast-on-me move. It was an inspection. He stared at my thigh, at a spot I couldn’t see.
“No,” he said hoarsely.
“That’s not the sort of thing a woman likes to hear in this position,” I said shakily. My heart was beginning to accelerate, my hands to shake. Something was wrong. Really wrong.
Cold Hearted: An Alaskan Werewolf Romance Page 22