He went still and squeezed her hand. “Aye, lass. I will.”
Martha’s heart threatened to stop as happiness burst through her like sunlight. She smiled. “Then trust me. Come with me.”
“Anywhere. But wait.” He released her long enough to bound across the room and grab up the old book that carried the names of the lycans in his ancestry. He tucked it beneath his arm and grabbed her hand. “Let us go.”
“Yes. Now. Run to the mirror, Silas. Run with me.”
Just as Embeth took to the air, rushing toward them with a wild scream, they raced toward the mirror and together they leaped through the silvery colors and warmth to roll across the cold sheets of Martha’s bed.
“Break it! Take that mirror out!” she yelled as Silas took to his feet and grabbed a heavy lamp that sat on her bedside table. With a roar and a burst of strength he threw it into the mirror and shattered it into a million tiny shards.
In the deafening silence, his shoulders heaved as he stared at the empty wooden frame. Martha watched him, her heart in her throat, and knew her entire life had changed in that instant.
He turned to look at her over his shoulder, his golden eyes sharp on her. “You care for me.”
Martha nodded. “Yes.” She held out her hand and he took it as he turned to face her fully. Everything about him relaxed as he released his breath and then she noticed the scratches that bloomed red with blood on his body. Her heart softened and she wanted nothing more than to soothe this man. “Come with me.”
She led him into her bathroom and reached down to turn on the water. Silas’ eyes widened at the sight of the shower. He smiled slowly. “Wondrous.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “Not nearly as wondrous as that waterfall of yours, big guy but it’ll have to do for now.”
Blood dripped from several scratches on his chest and Martha quickly skimmed out of her shorts and t-shirt and kicked them aside. When she reached for the front snap of her bra, she was stopped by Silas’ hand.
“Allow me,” he said.
When he unhooked her and slid the bra from her arms, his gaze turned hot, focusing on her aroused nipples, but he didn’t touch them. Instead he lowered his eyes and reached for her pink bikini panties. A tiny, sexy, purely masculine smile lifted the corners of his lips as he dipped his thumbs beneath the elastic and sent them sailing down her legs. He moved close enough that she could feel the heat and desire roll from his body to touch her like a physical caress.
Martha knew they had to deal with those scratches, so she lifted a hand to his chest. “This first. Come with me.”
She stepped beneath the warm spray with Silas, and when she stroked his firm flesh with her hands, he laid back his head and sighed. “’Tis heaven the way your hands feel, woman.”
“I’ll be touching you a lot more before this night is through.”
He lifted his head and gave her a purely lecherous look. “A promise, then?”
“Oh yeah.” She took a bottle of her favorite liquid soap and drizzled some into her palm. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the steamy enclosure as she rubbed her hands together then applied them to the firm mounds of his chest.
“Smells like you but not appropriate for a man, I’m thinking.”
“Quit complaining,” she whispered as she took her soapy hands on a slow journey over his thick shoulders and his neck. Unable to stop herself, she moved in to better absorb the heat of him. “I’ll fix that problem when I go into town tomorrow. I’ll find something more manly, okay? Maybe pick up some jeans and shirts. Can’t have you running around naked, now can I?”
Silas grinned wickedly. “And why not? Do you not like me naked?”
She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in years. “I love you naked. Now be quiet and let me get you washed.”
As she paid particular attention to the cuts and scrapes, she felt the tension leave his body. Unbelievably, the scratches were quickly healing and beginning to close before her eyes. Of course she’d read fictional stories about were-creatures’ ability to heal at supersonic speed but now she knew it was more than myth. It was real.
“Where is this place? This time?”
She looked up from his flawless chest and smiled. “Honey, you’re in Texas.”
He looked down and grunted. “Tax Us?”
She giggled and moved aside to let the water rinse away the soap. “Tex-as. And this is the twenty-first century.”
When he sucked in a breath and took in the modern things surrounding him, she simply nodded.
“I will have much to learn. You will teach me.”
Martha reached out for him then and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him quickly and smiled. “I will love teaching you everything you need to know but lessons will begin tomorrow. Tonight I have other plans.”
Once they’d stepped from the tub and dried each other with big fluffy towels, she led him into her bedroom. Moonlight sifted through the gauzy curtains, casting pale blue shadows across the rumpled sheets on her bed. Naked, she turned to him and saw the desire in his eyes. “Let me welcome you properly to my world.”
He was standing by the side of the bed that didn’t have shards of the magic mirror on the floor. Tomorrow she would sweep them up but not now. Now she wanted nothing more than to show this man how much she loved him. It was in her mind to seduce him but he didn’t give her a chance.
Silas stalked to her and fisted his hand in her damp hair. Dragging her head back, he planted his open mouth against her throat. Nibbling and licking, sucking at her tender flesh, he drew a moan from her. His cock pressed hard against her belly and she reached for it, wrapping her fingers around his heat.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes, Martha.”
She pulled back then sent kisses to drift over his chest then lower over his corrugated abs. Lordy, lordy! She nipped him there then went to her knees. Grabbing his erection with both hands, she slid her mouth over the head of him, letting her tongue trace the heavy ridge. Sliding her tongue down his length then back up again, she smelled the scent of her lavender soap along with his musk. She filled her hands with his balls, thrilled when he let out a long groan. His hands went to her head as she worked him then his fingers speared through her damp curls.
Could he know how much she loved him? How could he possibly understand the depth of her feelings? Adrenaline from the earlier encounter with the witch raced through her blood, speeding her heartbeat. She would drink him down. She would devour him.
But then he growled and looped his hands beneath her armpits and drew her to her feet. Breathing heavily, wanting him, the only man who’d ever made her feel complete and happy, she didn’t complain when he took her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. His hands went to her breasts then frantically down the length of her torso where he caressed every curve. His nostrils flared as if he smelled the scent of her arousal. Martha knew she was beyond turned-on. She was frantic. Moisture pooled thickly between her thighs and her flesh pulsed with the need to have his length buried deep inside her. When he came down over her, they rolled until she lay sprawled on top of him. His cock rose up stiffly, prodding between her thighs and brushing her drenched folds.
“I want you,” she whispered, looking down at him.
“Take me. And I’ll take you.”
“Promise?”
“You have my vow.”
Martha rose to her knees and slowly, slowly slid down over his cock, taking him deep then deeper. Nothing had ever felt better or more right. And when he was seated to the hilt, she dropped back her head and moaned as she writhed on his rigid shaft. “Yesss.”
Silas filled his hands with her ass then thrust once, twice, then raised slightly to take her nipple between his teeth. When he sucked her deep, scraping the tender flesh with his teeth, she cried out.
“I could suck you all night. Forever.”
“Yes. More. Harder.”
She rose and fell over him, her body clasping his cock and releasing, lo
ving the sound of quiet desperation he made against her throbbing nipple. When finally he released her to lie back, the moon bathed his swarthy skin with light and shadow. “Beautiful. You are beautiful, Silas MacAdam.”
“And you. By the gods you have the sweetest pussy.”
His words inflamed her and, as she rose and fell atop him, she took her nipples between her fingers and pinched them. Her head dropped back as he plucked her clit. “Now,” she cried as his emotions blasted through her mind. His care for her, his relief, the pleasure he felt when she rode him. Sensation spiraled, wound tighter until the world exploded in color and wave after wave of ecstasy swamped her.
Beneath her, Silas stilled then growled deep in his chest as he released his pleasure deep into her body in a pulsing stream.
In the aftermath, she lay sprawled over him, just breathing in the scent of him. “Is it really over?” she wondered as she caught her breath. “Embeth? The being apart?” She rose up and looked down into his shining eyes.
With a rumbling laugh, he rolled and pinned her beneath him. “Ah no, dearling. For us, it all begins. Now. Tomorrow is soon enough to explore this new world. For now I will explore you.”
Chapter Five
The next day Martha left a gorgeous, very naked wolf man sprawled on her couch playing with the remote control to the television. She turned on the radio to a Tim McGraw song and smiled as she whipped down the road into town. Despite his life stuck firmly in the past, he was still a man and men loved gadgets. Something told Martha that her days of watching three-hanky love stories and romantic comedies were over unless she splurged on a second television.
Electronic gadgets weren’t in her future today, though. As much as she loved looking at Silas in all his naked hotness, he needed clothes, and that called for a trip into Cloverfield. She took in the sheer size of him and decided food was needed too. Lots of food. And probably some man-type grooming things as well. It was hard to imagine Silas would enjoy smelling like her flowery shampoos and lotions.
Ten minutes later she drove into the small town, noting townspeople milling about on the sidewalks, going about their everyday business. She’d only lived in the arid, west Texas prairie town for a little over a year and had always found it appealing due in part to the fact people left her alone. Unlike many small towns, the townsfolk tended to stick to themselves. There didn’t seem to be a lot of overt gossip and prying, and that suited her just fine.
She pulled up in front of Poteet’s on the Prairie and opened the door of the shop, wincing at the sound of the cowbell that jangled overhead. Rayne Poteet, the owner of the store that carried both men and women’s clothing, was balanced on a ladder, tucking folded jeans into a slot in the wall. She didn’t turn around when the bell clanged. “Be right with you!” she hollered.
“No, hurry. How ya doin’, Rayne?”
The proprietor turned and smiled down from her precarious perch, her vibrant red ponytail swinging out behind her. Then she stilled, frowned. Martha saw her nostrils flare slightly as, unbelievably, she sniffed the air. Rayne’s sherry-colored eyes went wide. “Martha? Um…hang on a minute, hon.”
The air seemed suddenly heavy and tension-filled and Martha didn’t know why. Very slowly Rayne climbed down the ladder and faced her. Nervously, she ran her hands down the sides of her jeans and mustered a shaky smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Martha. What have you been up to?”
Martha laughed a little. “Ah, you know me. I don’t leave the house much but I needed to pick up some things.”
“Got a nice shipment of girl stuff yesterday. You’re in luck.”
Damn.
She hadn’t thought of explanations. Nerves danced a steady beat in her chest. “Um. Actually, I have a houseguest and I’m just picking up a few things for him.”
“Him?”
“Yeah. Need some jeans, tees, a couple of shirts and some sweat pants. Maybe some boots. Tennis shoes too. Yeah, that would be good.”
Rayne eyed her steadily but didn’t say a word as she led her to a circular metal rack where colorful western-style shirts were hanging. It wasn’t like Rayne Poteet to be so quiet. Very carefully, Martha lowered her shields and allowed the other woman’s emotions to swamp her.
Curiosity. Worry.
The emotions rang through Martha’s system as she zeroed in on the younger woman and wondered about the riotous feelings she picked up. Then just as quickly she closed the shields. She’d always been a private woman and she wasn’t about to start spouting out details of her life now, even to someone like Rayne, whom she liked quite a lot.
Finally Rayne looked up. “You can look through these and I’ll get you some jeans. Boot cut?”
“Yeah, sure. Sounds fine.”
“What size?
Martha thought about it and smiled. “Big.”
Rayne rolled her eyes. “Jeez. That’s a help.”
Laughing, she held out her arms and hands, indicating the width of MacAdam’s hips and waist. “About this big.”
“Um. Looks like a thirty-four. Length?”
“Hm. He’s about six-four.”
“Wow. Big guy. Just like all the men around here,” Rayne observed as she scampered back up the ladder and took down several pairs of jeans.
By the time she’d rounded up jeans in assorted sizes, shirts, tees and a gorgeous pair of black full-quill ostrich boots that she’d been unable to resist, Martha was exhausted and dying to bring this stuff home. Seeing Silas’ face as he discovered every new modern marvel just tickled her to death. As she presented her credit card, the annoying cowbell over the door jangled again and Martha saw Rayne go still.
She turned to see Ringo Ramone framed in the doorway, the sun at his back casting him in shadow. Martha knew very little about the handsome, silent cowboy who worked at the Wolf Creek Ranch just outside of town.
“Ringo. Hey,” Rayne whispered.
Martha glanced at the other woman and saw that she’d paled noticeably. With startling clarity, she realized Rayne was deeply interested in the man. Sexual intensity practically slithered through the air. Ringo moved farther into the store and tipped his hat. He was tall and lean with inky black hair that reached past the collar of his western-style shirt. As he came closer, he filled the room with his powerful presence. His blacker-than-hellfire gaze swept over Rayne. “Hey, sweet thang.” Then he faced Martha and reached to tip his hat again. He went still. His eyes widened.
His nostrils flared.
Damn.
Déjà vu.
Rayne had done the same as Ringo. She’d worn the same expression of surprise.
What the heck was going on?
And just like that Ringo backed away, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “Gotta go, Rayne. Miss Martha.”
“Hey,” Rayne called as Ringo stalked across the room toward the door. “Where ya goin’, Ringo? Is something wrong?”
But Ringo didn’t answer. Together, Rayne and Martha watched him get in the truck that was parked out front and drive away as if the hounds of hell chased him.
* * * * *
Silas stood under the warm spray and closed his eyes as he tried to absorb the changes facing him in his new life. He’d been alone so long he’d begun to feel more animal than man. It wasn’t fear of the unknown that grabbed him hard but worry over acclimating himself to this new life and place. Perhaps the only time he’d felt true fear was when he’d been separated from Martha after those brief but sensual moments with her. The loss had left him aching and near crazed with grief as if half his soul had been ripped from him.
But how did she feel about him?
He knew the psychic connection was strong. Even now it soared like heady wine through his veins. Memories of the night before caught him up and his body responded. His cock hardened and he fisted his hand at the base of his shaft and dragged it up his length. The way Martha had sucked him was burned in his mind like a brand and he wanted more. He wanted it now.
But she was a woman from
the modern age. Did she have a man in this time? Someone who wanted her and would fight to keep her?The very idea that even now she could be with someone else fostered unreasoning fear within him. She had told him there was no man in her life but he couldn’t help the nagging worry. Gritting his teeth, he pumped his cock as he leaned his face back under the spray of warm water. If she thought she could bring him with her into this time and this place then leave him for another man, he would have to convince her of her folly.
And then as if his mind had conjured her, he felt her approach. She was close, almost home, and he could practically imagine the way her soft curves would fit in his arms, against his body, completing him in a way no other woman had before. He imagined her generous breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hard and practically begging to be sucked. It had only been a few hours but he needed her again with a desire unmatched in his experience.
Hunger curled low in his belly as he stepped from the shower and reached for a towel. Unsatisfied, raw with need, he sensed her coming closer. The front door snapped shut as she stepped into the house and he heard the rustling of paper. Her scent filled the air and the part of him that would always be savage roared to blazing life.
With two long strides, he left the small bathroom and padded down the hallway to see her standing in the middle of the living room clutching several bags in her arms. More boxes and bags had been tossed to the couch but he could not care less. She was here, home where she belonged and within reach. Martha’s eyes widened and she quickly smiled but then it faded as he came closer. “Silas? Is something wr—”
Unable to bear another second of not touching her, he tore the two bags from her arms and set them aside before grabbing her up in his arms. Her lips opened on a gasp when he set his mouth on hers. Instantly plunging his tongue deep, absorbing the taste of her into his very bones. His hard and ready cock brushed against the cool cotton of her skirt and he growled low, fisting his hands into the fabric to draw it up around her waist.
Highland Beast Page 4