Seduced by a Shifter

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Seduced by a Shifter Page 13

by Jennifer Dellerman


  Ben made his way to the pool steps with the intent of pounding the cat into dust. Then it hit him: Rome was leaving. For several days. Suddenly those days got a whole lot more interesting, and his evening brighter when Willow looked at Ben, not Rome, in uncertainty, as if seeking his permission. His shoulders straightened and his chest swelled. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  She fidgeted with the towel, his towel, a moment before she nodded and went into the girl’s room to change.

  Ben rose from the pool and picked up Willow’s towel to dry off. “Is this really about another case?”

  Rome sighed, the frustration clear in that loud exhale of air. “It is.”

  Ben grunted and lifted Willow’s forgotten gray shorts. “And what’s happening with hers?”

  “There’s been some movement.” At Ben’s raised brow Rome continued. “Valen and three of her lackeys were last seen in a black SUV heading east on I-90.”

  “Last seen, huh?” Ben folded his arms.

  Lips pursed in irritation, Rome admitted, “Suffice it to say our men lost them at a damn opera, their vehicle abandoned in the lot. My take? Valen is on her way here. She’ll drive—less conspicuous that way—and stop at small hotels to rest up, because she’s too much of a diva to drive straight through. Probably make Woodcliff by Thursday.”

  “Perfect.” Not. “They’ll blend in with all the other tourists who start coming up for a long weekend.”

  “Plus Thursday’s the full moon,” Joe added.

  “Fuck.” Ben dragged a hand through his wet hair.

  “And to make things even more exciting,” Scott chimed in, “we’ll have all those extra people coming in for Tess’s wedding.”

  “Ah, double fuck.” Those upcoming days he thought were going to be so much better without Rome dicking with him just made a one-eighty.

  Though his job at the ski lodge was a part-time gig, his job with Dean was much different. Ben normally found it a pleasure. Being his alpha’s eyes and ears of the pack mainly consisted of interacting with pack members in an informal way.

  Tuesday mornings he had a regular group meeting with some of the town’s elders. Then lunch with Dean, followed by God knew what his alpha wanted. This week he could adding to the list ice hockey classes for a bunch of kindergartners in the afternoon. Then the night skiing lessons he promised Pete and a group the tour guide had booked several weeks ago.

  Wednesday he was helping a friend move from the apartment complex Ben also lived at to Togan. Thursdays he met with a group of shifters for basketball in the evenings, after which they all headed down to Dean’s bar, Thirio’s Keep, for some food and beer. This Thursday he was on the roster to work with Jack and the juveniles, teaching them the dos and don’ts of hunting in wolf form.

  Friday he was back at the ski lodge, after which he’d told his mom he’d come by to replace all the interior door knobs and faucets with levered handles. She said her arthritis was making it difficult to turn the round knobs, but Ben figured it was more of a way to get him to come see her.

  Saturday was work, followed by Tess’s wedding. A jam-packed week and somewhere in all that bullshit he had to find time to protect, seduce, and claim his mate. He also had to explain who he and a good portion of those she’d so far encountered in Woodcliff were, without making her run screaming for the hills or insisting he see a psychiatrist. But just how does one go about telling his mate that he’s not one hundred percent human?

  So, Will, just wanted to let you know that I turn into a wolf once a month. Well, sometimes more often, if the situation calls for it, but hey, so do a lot of others in town.

  Somehow he didn’t think that would go over well.

  A headache began to brew above his left eye and he cursed again.

  Oblivious to the real reason behind Ben’s verbal venting, Rome nodded. “It’ll be tough but I have faith in you. In all of you.”

  Ben didn’t know if he wanted to bash Rome’s head in at the pep talk, or drown himself. Luckily he did neither, as the sound of squeaking hinges preceded Willow’s return. She looked at him and offered a shy smile.

  And just like that, everything inside him eased. Here was his mate, that special female that male shifters long for their whole lives, and she was within his reach. He couldn’t be more delighted with her. She was an intoxicating, tangled mix of sweet, shy, funny, outgoing, serious, smart, beautiful, and brave. He’d be amazed at all her adorable facets the rest of his life.

  “Oh. My shorts.”

  He followed her gaze to his chest, noticing that he’d lifted a hand—the one holding her shorts—to his heart to rub at the sudden ache.

  He jerked his hand down but her eyes remained fixated on his chest. The look in them had his libido roaring back to life after the last few minutes of ice-cold reality. She appeared almost mesmerized. Ben heard the beating of her heart picking up speed, and it made him want to preen like a damn peacock. Then the tip of her pink tongue swept out to lick her lips, and he nearly groaned out loud.

  The mating heat was in full, blazing force, the enticing scent of her arousal growing stronger with each passing day. Even now, despite her recent orgasm, he could tell she was getting stirred up again. Rekindled desire tickled his senses, lifting his face with invisible hands to savor the lavender and orange of Willow’s unique essence, sprinkled with the captivating musk of pure aroused woman.

  It made him damn near salivate to taste the slick honey between her thighs once again. And while he had a hard-on to surpass any hard-on in the history of hard-ons, now was not the time.

  But soon.

  Relieved he still held onto the towel, he fisted the end of the terry material and let it drape over the front of his groin.

  Inwardly he calculated, juggled, and made plans. Outwardly he crossed to Willow in lazy steps—otherwise he might do permanent damage to one of his favorite appendages—and handed her the shorts. “How about Wednesday I come pick you up around seven, and this time we’ll try the gym and Jacuzzi to work your muscles.”

  “Oh...”

  He saw the indecision in her eyes and thus held out the carrot. “I’ll make sure we have the place to ourselves.”

  Clearly baffled, Willow angled her head, causing several strawberry-colored strands of silken hair to fall over her eyes. “How is it that you can get these places emptied out? I know it’s for protection reasons and to ease my own discomfort, but aren’t you displacing a lot of people?”

  Ben brushed her wayward bangs from her eyes. “Caring people don’t mind being displaced if it’s for a good reason.”

  “Still—”

  Ben silenced her protest with his lips, kissing her with a hunger and possessiveness his wolf was clawing at him to sate. Now. His hand curved around her nape, holding her captive as he stroked his tongue deep into the moist cavern of her stunned mouth. Just as she started to melt, he drew back, satisfied by the glaze of passion in her eyes. “Seven. Wednesday. Bring workout clothes and a swimsuit.”

  “All right.”

  Ben speared Rome with a steely glare. “No comment?”

  Rome took a step back, hands up, palms out, in front of his chest. “I know you’d die to protect her. That’s good enough for me.”

  After giving Rome a clipped nod, Ben bent his head to whisper in Willow’s ear. Only he couldn’t resist and nipped at her lobe, making her gasp. He sucked briefly on the delicate tissue, knowing his breath would make the damp flesh tingle. “Dream of me. I know I’ll dream of you just as you were. All splayed out like a water nymph being worshiped by her lover.”

  The little sound she made got him right in the gut. He took her lips one final time in a hard kiss. He needed a week with her, alone. No. Make that a month. Then maybe the sexual tension driving him to distraction would ease. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

  Willow licked, then rubbed her lips together, and, silently cursing their audience, he held back from the temptation to kiss her again. “
Wednesday it is.”

  But as she moved in front of him he did give in to one temptation, and swatted her playfully on her pert ass.

  “Oh. What was that for?” Willow asked, one hand on her butt.

  Ben grinned. “It’s too cute to ignore.”

  She rolled her eyes and headed out with Rome. Joe trailed behind, his lips rolled in to keep his laughter from escaping, but Scott shot Ben a kissy face as he walked out the door. Ben retaliated by flipping him the bird.

  Once they were gone he moved into the boys’ locker room to change clothes and to make a few phone calls.

  Chapter Sixteen

  If it weren’t for Ruth Gentry, Willow swore she would have died of sheer boredom on Tuesday. Sure, Scott had provided her with a laptop so she could surf the Internet, but within a few hours she didn’t even know what else to search for. The cabin had a TV but no reception. There were some movies along with several books on the bookshelf in the living room, but nothing held her interest.

  Then Ruth had called, and whether the older woman was feeling sorry for Willow or truly needed the assistance, Willow jumped at the chance for companionship. A distraction. Anything to get her head out of the gutter and ignore the way her body was vibrating like a tuning fork. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Okay, that was a partial lie. She knew she was highly aroused, to the point her belly felt like it was stuffed with a giant coil wound waaaay too tight.

  By three in the afternoon Willow was stuffed full of salad, lasagna, and garlic bread. After popping in one of several movies Ruth brought, they tackled the wedding favors of candy kisses and Jordan almonds, sorting them into green netting that then needed to be tied with brown ribbon, for a hundred and sixty-eight guests. Also on Ruth’s to-do list were name tags that needed folding, placing guests names into cute miniature frames depicting their assigned table, sorting table decorations and elaborate place settings into separate containers, and on and on the list went until Willow’s head spun.

  She made the decision right then she’d elope.

  Scott and Joe made themselves useful as well, only until Ruth noticed they were eating more of the party favors then sorting them. With a stern lecture, Ruth threw them out of the cabin. Willow kept her head down so her grin at her bodyguards’ rueful expressions wouldn’t be seen.

  At six Tess and Kaylie, along with sweet little Lukas, showed up and the evening continued in the same manner, though not as industrious as they all spent more time cooing and playing with the baby than anything else.

  Too bad another nightmare wracked her sleep. The dream had started pleasantly enough: Ben holding her tight in his arms, nuzzling her neck as they slow danced at Tess’s wedding. Then it shot to erotic within seconds, as dreams do. She’d been clad in a mesh, green teddy, reclining in a sexy pose on a large, round, satin-covered bed while Ben strolled toward her with nothing on but a tiny white towel and a wicked smile, one finger twirling a pair of fuzzy handcuffs in the air.

  Then came the gunfire and pain.

  Willow woke with a jerk, chest heaving as she drew in air. She wiped impatiently at the tears streaming down her face. Instead of Officer Lee Jones taking several rounds to the back, it had been Ben.

  She never fell fully back asleep after that, too restless and scared to allow slumber to take her. Then she’d missed Ben’s phone call while she’d been in the shower. Hearing his voice, knowing he was well and alive, eased her troubled heart. After reminding her of their date, he’d gone on to tell her in a thick, husky voice that he’d dreamt of her, of kissing every inch of her body, starting with her eyes, her ears, the soft curve of her cheek. He’d just made his way to her breast when a male voice interrupted him, causing him to groan as if in agony. One she replicated. Now she was restless for an entirely different reason.

  Wednesday was a near repeat of Tuesday, except Ruth showed up at ten in the morning with homemade cinnamon rolls, orange-glazed rolls, and a cheese-and-egg casserole. The woman must have sensed something was off because she laid a soft, comforting hand on Willow’s cheek. “With the rising sun, fear dies and hope thrives. No matter how bleak things look, it will change for the better.”

  For some reason it made Willow think of that old man Henry, and his play on her name. So she tucked into Ruth’s cooking, not surprised when her bodyguards showed up only moments later, begging for a bite. Soon, the horrible loss that had shredded her heart into a thousand pieces was nothing but a memory.

  Amazingly enough, everything on Ruth’s list was completed before she took her leave just before six, with a wink and a good-luck wish for Willow’s date with Ben. Ignoring Willow’s stammered denial, Ruth headed home with a pleased grin on her face.

  Now the only thing left for Willow to do was get ready for her date, which was really another non-date, with Ben. Granted, Willow was looking forward to stretching and working her muscles, especially after two days straight of sitting, and the idea of a Jacuzzi sounded like heaven to her aching knee.

  By five after seven, Willow decided, after peeking out the front door a zillion times, Ben had forgotten. Or maybe changed his mind.

  Or, oh God, had been in an accident!

  The sound of a vehicle pulling up had her racing to the door once again. Then she counted to ten, trying unsuccessfully to quell her nerves. It took Ben’s tired countenance to do that.

  Concern immediately replaced jitters. “Are you okay?”

  He gave her a half-smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just a bit sore. Helped a friend move.”

  Willow’s mouth dropped open. “Today? After work?”

  “Not a big deal.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug as if he did that sort of thing all the time. Which he just might have.

  “But you look exhausted. Maybe we should cancel the gym thing so you can go home and get some sleep.”

  The incredulous look on his face was a balm to her self-esteem. “Are you kidding me? Of course we’re not canceling. I want to go to the gym. Hell. It’ll help loosen some of the knots moving put into my muscles and if that doesn’t do it, the Jacuzzi will. Best part”—the smile this time reached his eyes, turning them into bottomless pools of glowing bronze embers—“I get to be with you.”

  He cupped her cheek much like Ruth had done that morning, only Willow wasn’t comforted. She was aroused and trembling, all from the touch of his hand. Then he bent his head and his mouth was on hers, and the arousal and trembling surged into gut-wrenching need.

  Hanging on as the world began to spin, Willow slid her hand up the soft cotton of his blue sweatshirt and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hair a damp tickle on her fingers. Then there was only heat and Ben and how she felt pressed up against his masculine strength. She parted her lips on a sigh of pleasure and he deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing and mating, his taste heady, seductive, familiar.

  His hands were everywhere, tracing her spine, squeezing the curve of her butt over the gray sweatpants, sliding up her hips and under the hem of the matching gray sweatshirt. Shivers of anticipation washed through her as his hands moved up her sides towards her breasts.

  “Whoa. Sorry.”

  The male voice broke through Willow’s fog of lust and she jerked her head from Ben. She would have pulled completely out of Ben’s embrace except he held her close, his arousal a hard press against her belly. “What do you want, Scott?”

  Her face aflame, Willow forced herself from burying it in Ben’s neck, reminder herself they weren’t doing anything wrong. It was just a kiss. A kiss that made her think she might need a change of undies, as she was as slick with arousal as Ben was hard.

  When Willow did finally peer over at Scott, the man seemed unperturbed, as if catching people making out in the open doorway of a cabin was a common occurrence.

  “I was just wondering if you had any more of those enchiladas Kaylie brought over last night.”

  Willow flicked her thumb over her shoulder. “Help yourself. There’s plenty for both you and Joe.”


  While Scott whistled to his partner, Ben reached down and grabbed the plastic bag containing her swimsuit, towel and change of clothes, telling Willow to get her coat.

  Once they were in his truck, Willow asked if Ben was really okay.

  He rolled his shoulders experimentally. “A little sore, but honestly, I’m good.”

  They talked about this and that, comfortable small talk while Ben drove through and out of town. When he turned down an unmarked road, she felt her first frisson of fear in his company. “Where exactly is this gym?”

  His grin was playful and he reached for her hand, kissing the back of it. “I’m not abducting you, Will. Relax. I might have libidinous tendencies where you’re concerned, but I’d never hurt you. It’s a semi-private place.”

  She glanced down at where her hand lay trapped between his and his hard thigh. “Semi-private?”

  His lips pursed and he tilted his head from side to side, as if figuring out how to explain. “It’s a place that not everyone in town knows of. Like a community center but only for certain people.”

  “Oh, God.” She yanked her hand free, her heart thudding in her chest, and not in a fun way. “You’re all part of some weird cult.”

  “What? No!”

  “No? You’re taking me out in the middle of nowhere to some quote, community center, unquote, where only certain people are allowed to go?”

  The look he shot her was priceless. “It’s deep in the woods because it’s for hunters. You know, deer hunting? And that’s mainly who goes there. Hunters. Men like to hunt, pretend we’re big bad predators, yet still want the comforts of home.”

  Willow eyed him. “A hunting lodge?”

  “Exactly,” Ben seemed pleased with the label. “A hunting lodge. But it’s not open to the public. When you buy a hunting license you can upgrade to also purchase a membership to the lodge. That way you can still use the facilities outside of hunting season.”

 

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