He hesitated, watching her with those penetrating, judging eyes of his.
For a moment, she wasn’t certain he would take the paper, but finally he did.
He snatched it from her hand, though he didn’t unfold it. Instead, he stared at it for a long beat before muttering a string of colorful curses. He rested an arm on the wall of the saddle room, leaning his forehead against it, the silence highlighting the mounting tension between them.
“Well?” she prompted.
When he still didn’t respond, she sighed.
“If you’re not going to read it, at least say something, damn it.”
He rounded on her then, beating one large fist against his chest. “You think so little of me?” He brandished the list at her. “That I would use you like this?”
“Isn’t that already what you’re doing? Using me as a means to an end?”
“It’s not like that, Sierra, and you know it.”
This time, her name on his lips didn’t have the effect it usually did. Instead, it only reminded her of all the distance he’d placed between them over the years. All the ways he’d hurt her, intentional or not.
“Isn’t it? I’m the means you need to appease the Elder Council, to get your approval to negotiate with the Execution Underground. Isn’t that the heart of it, Packmaster?” She hurled his title at him as if it were a weapon. “You don’t have a problem using me if it benefits you.”
His nose wrinkled in distaste. “My job is to protect the pack.”
She laughed. As if his motivation gave him any right. If she married him, she’d never be able to escape him. He would constantly invade her mind, her body, her heart. Everything she’d offered him years ago that he’d refused to take. And he expected all that in exchange for what? A title she’d already earned?
He could find other ways to deal with the council. Sure, they’d take longer, potentially risking the lives of the pack and the deterioration of negotiations with the Execution Underground. But for her, there was no alternative. At all.
“Of course it’s your duty to protect the pack. Unfortunately for you, that includes me.”
“I am protecting you, which is why I won’t even begin to consider this.” He brandished the list again, crumpling it in his massive fist. He could’ve thrown it into the muck in one of the horse’s stalls or, hell, even burned it with one of the heat lamps.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he stared down at it for another long beat. With an intense, almost reverent focus, he gently placed the paper in the back pocket of his work jeans. She could only see a hint of his expression beneath his Stetson, but his wolf eyes had faded now, and it was almost as if her request had pained him.
If her pride had any say, she would have turned tail and left, but she had more important things to consider. She thought of all the women coming up after her. If she got the position, she’d forge the way, create a legacy they could follow, but thanks to the Elder Council, the only way she could do that was to marry the man who stood before her.
She was going to do this for all of them, so she’d be damned if she’d cater to her own sense of pride and walk away, and since she was making this sacrifice, she refused to limit herself to a lonely life for the rest of her days. No one was going to fight for her, her happiness, her needs, if not her.
“How is this any different from you proposing we sleep together for a single night?”
“That was to appease the council. Nothing more.” He paced the floor of the saddle room as if he were a caged animal. Considering that she blocked the only entrance and his irises were once again the gold of his wolf’s, it wasn’t too far from the truth. “I made my offer to benefit us both, but I refuse to treat you like some naughty plaything.”
She blushed at the words. If her damaged pride wouldn’t stop her, she wouldn’t allow embarrassment to do so either. “I’m asking you to treat me like some naughty plaything,” she said, “but apparently, what I want doesn’t matter.”
Using two fingers to massage his temples, he stopped pacing. “You’re Colt’s sister. I can’t treat you that way. Doing so would make me even more of a beast, a—”
“Monster,” she finished for him.
Immediately, he stiffened.
She’d known that would hit a nerve, but with the pain of his rejection building in her chest, she intended it to. “What? You thought I hadn’t heard the nickname? Monster of Montana. That’s what they’ve been calling you, isn’t it?”
For a long beat, he remained still, the gold of his wolf eyes boring into her, before finally he growled, “Is that what you think of me?”
She glanced away. She didn’t think that of him. Not really, but with all the pain and hurt of years being overlooked bubbling to the surface, she wasn’t about to stroke his fragile male ego. From the look in his eye, he was primed for a fight, and if that was what he wanted, she’d give it to him. They’d always been good at that—fighting.
It wasn’t as painful as whatever this was between them.
“You’re willing to use me for your own means but won’t even consider my needs.” Easing inside the saddle room, she took one of the riding crops down from the hook on the wall to toy with it. She’d never liked not having something to do with her hands. She swatted it gently against her palm, testing the snap against her skin. “So if the shoe fits.” She dared to glance up at him.
He stood only a foot away from her, looking more infuriated than she’d ever seen him. “I can’t give you what you want,” he growled.
She stepped closer. “You’re right. Clearly you can’t. You’re too protective and brotherly to do that.”
The gold of his wolf eyes flared. In the dim light of the saddle room, they glowed with an ethereal intensity. “There’s nothing brotherly about how I feel about you, Sierra.”
“Then prove it.” Her eyes flashed to her wolf as she drew near, so close that they were almost chest to chest, like they’d been in the forest. The memory of what passed between them was so heady, so fresh and visceral that her body buzzed with the electricity of it. She could practically feel his lips on hers again, savor the spiced masculine taste of him.
And from the look in the packmaster’s gaze, so could he.
“If that’s true, show me,” she challenged. She placed the riding crop on his chest, tracing the looped leather tip over his heart. “I don’t need protection. Not even from you.”
He stiffened as a low growl rumbled from his throat, but he didn’t dare move.
Which meant she’d won this round.
She removed the riding tool, casting him a satisfied grin. “That’s what I thought.” She turned away, but turning her back on him was a mistake, because it meant she missed the fiery look in his eye as he made his onslaught.
In seconds, Maverick was on her, one hand gripping her chest as the other roughly palmed her rear. He bent her over one of the mounted saddles as he drew her behind flush against him. The thick length of his erection pressed between her ass cheeks, causing her to let out a squeak in surprise. Even through their jeans, she felt the hard, throbbing length of him.
“This is no way to treat a virgin,” he purred against her ear. The heat of his breath caused a shiver to run down her spine, making its way lower until a pool of heat gathered between her legs. Slowly, he eased the hand atop her chest lower, unzipping her Carhartt and continuing downward until he cupped the weight of her left breast in his hand. His fingertips rolled over the rough material of her work shirt, expertly locating the taut peak of her nipple as he began toying, playing with her. “If I were any sort of decent man, I wouldn’t…”
A small moan tore from her lips in response, instantly singeing her cheeks with heated embarrassment. She’d never made a sound like that before, not even when she’d taken care of herself with her own hand, and yet he didn’t seem to dislike it.
She opened her mouth to respond, but he chose that moment to unbutton her jeans with expert precision, tugging down the zipper until her underwear was exposed. The warm heat of his palm cupped over her, her moisture soaking through the thin material of her panties. She thought he would pull the material aside and touch her there, at the aching bud of her clit, but suddenly, his hand was gone.
Instead, he plucked the riding crop from her hand, surprising her as he slowly trailed it over her body, drawing lower with each stroke. Each part of her he touched with the cool leather burned with dark erotic promise as if it were his hand stroking her, feeling her, caressing her, though he didn’t dare.
Her body came alive with awareness. She couldn’t guess what he was going to do with the taboo tool until suddenly the leather loop of the crop’s head slipped beneath the hem of her underwear, brushing against the sensitive skin of her clit.
She cried out as he massaged slow, rhythmic circles over her tender flesh. Unable to stop herself, she pushed harder against the riding crop, seeking out the pressure and pleasure he gave her with it.
“Is this what you want?” The words were purred on an aroused growl. “For me to use you like the monster you think I am?”
Unable to form words, she moaned again, barely managing to nod her head in affirmation. Yes. This was what she wanted. Him, wild and feral, caught off guard like when she’d kissed him in the forest, everything he’d refused to be to her since he’d become packmaster. She could feel the length of him still pressed against the cheeks of her ass, and in response to her yes, his cock gave a receptive throb.
Pressure and pleasure built inside her with an intensity she’d never experienced before, so much that she felt if he continued, she would break into a thousand pieces, yet she didn’t want him to stop, not by a long shot. On the contrary, she wished they were both rid of their clothes, naked, so he would drive his hard length into her. It didn’t matter that she was a virgin. She knew what her body wanted, and she ached for him there, deep inside. She felt a needy pulse for the feeling of fullness that she expected having him claim her would bring.
As he edged her closer and closer to the brink, she finally managed to pant the words she wanted to say. “You’re not a monster. Not really.” She’d only said as much to goad him, to challenge him.
At that, he let out a dark chuckle. “There’s no point in attempting to reform me. I’m a lost cause.” He increased the speed and pressure, massaging against her clit until she was bucking and rocking against it.
She was close to the brink now. She could feel it.
“And when being a monster means I get to fuck innocent virgins with a riding crop…” He leaned over her, nipping at the sensitive skin of her ear with his sharp canines. “Who says I give a damn?”
Abruptly, he stopped, withdrawing the crop only long enough to turn her to face him. He pinned her against the saddle mount.
“Why did you st—?” He slid his hand between them, cutting her off as he replaced the riding crop’s presence with the heat of his own palm.
“Because I want to watch your pleasure.” The words fell from his lips with ease. It felt as if he’d spoken more naughty things to her in the past few minutes than all the words he’d grunted and grumbled to her in the past several years. He flicked his thumb over her clit with a heated, sensual stroke. His hands were those of a cowboy, rough and worn, but the hard contrast to the smooth leather of the riding crop and the sudden return of sensation caused her to cry out.
“Fuck,” he swore. The hand that was still gripping her ass tightened as he ran his index finger along the length of her slit. “You need to come now, warrior,” he purred.
He plunged a single finger deep inside her, curling it in a way that hit a spot deep inside.
As if her body were under his command, she came apart, trembling and shattering in his arms as waves of pleasure rolled through her. The walls of her pussy shook. It was ecstasy. Her own explorations of her body couldn’t begin to compare. As the last throes of her orgasm rolled through her, she was left gasping for air, panting against the heat of him.
As she came down from her pleasured haze, in an instant, any hint of tenderness she’d felt in his touch was gone. Instead, he released her and stepped back as he looked down at her with that same distant gaze she loathed. He turned away from her, grabbing the riding crop from where he’d abandoned it only to hang it back on its rightful hook.
She was still panting, catching her breath from all that he’d made her feel. Inside, her wolf was howling in pleasure. She reached out to touch him. “That was—”
“Don’t,” he warned. He stepped out of her reach. He didn’t turn to look at her, but she watched as the muscles beneath his jacket writhed with tension. “Not now, warrior.”
There was something in that deep, biting voice, a lingering dark promise. For once, she obeyed him, because from the heat that’d been burning in his eyes as she came, if she didn’t…
He stood like that for several beats, refusing to look at her before finally he inhaled a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was graveled, strained. “Consider that your first lesson.”
Without another word, he tore out of the saddle room, leaving her breathless and panting.
But she wasn’t done with him yet. Though her legs trembled, she found her footing and stepped out into the stall block, calling after him. “I have one other request.”
He froze, his back toward her. “What more could you possibly ask of me, woman?”
There was pain in his voice that she didn’t understand, but she didn’t dare step closer. “I want to be involved in finding out who’s orchestrating the attacks on your life.”
He tossed her a dark look over his shoulder as she gestured to his midsection where he’d been injured. The wound would be long since gone, but the scars often lingered.
The tension in his body eased, as if he were grateful for the change in conversation. “Done,” he said without hesitation. Turning away, he started toward the door again.
“Really?” She jogged to catch up with him.
“Why not? Once I notify the council of our engagement, as of the lunar ceremony tomorrow, you’ll be an elite warrior, and you handled your last assignment with ease.”
As he said the words, a swell of pride grew in her chest. She would be an elite warrior, wouldn’t she? And she had handled her last assignment well. She’d been tasked with capturing two of the remaining at-large members of the Wild Eight, a former enemy wolf pack, and she’d done so not only faster but more efficiently than any of her male counterparts.
He gripped the door handle. “You should have led with that request.”
“Why?”
Maverick paused, glancing back toward her. “You’re new. Green in more ways than one.” His hot gaze raked over her, scorching every inch of skin he’d touched. He now knew exactly all the ways in which she was new—intimately. “You’ll learn to lead with the request most likely to get a yes.”
“I didn’t think you’d say no to my arrangement, considering that after the sword fight you were…” Her voice trailed off.
“Aroused?” he offered.
A blush flooded her cheeks, and she bit her lower lip. She should be able to say it after what had passed between them, but somehow that only made it more difficult.
“As the tenth and only female of the elite warriors, by observation, you’ll find soon enough that adrenaline and battle will cause that in men more often than not.”
“So you weren’t”—she swallowed before forcing herself to say the word—“aroused by me?”
“I didn’t say that.” That devilish smirk curved
his lips. “And unless you want your second lesson to start now, warrior, I suggest you don’t continue biting your lip like some delicious little tease.”
Her eyes widened. Had she been in wolf form, her ears would have perked up.
Delicious tease? Her?
No one had ever called her a delicious anything. Hell, half the males of the pack were intimidated by her.
But not him.
Her eyes locked momentarily with his, and to her surprise, she was the first to look away. Perhaps he was the only alpha male on this ranch who was man enough for her. She’d always suspected as much.
With that, he pulled open the stable doors, heading out into the whistling wind and leaving her alone, her mind reeling.
Several minutes later, she was still pacing around the stable in circles, grinning like a fool, her wolf feeling ready to howl as she determined every instance where she could worry her lower lip with her canine teeth.
Chapter 10
Maverick removed the list from his pocket, staring at the folded paper for perhaps the hundredth time since she’d given it to him. The word List was written on the outside in large, looping letters, and the i was dotted with a small heart. Sierra had never struck him as the type of woman to dot her i’s with hearts, but as he was learning, there was a lot he didn’t know about her. Like the fact that she was a virgin and she didn’t want to be any longer, or that she was so responsive to his touch that when he’d commanded her to come, she’d melted into his hand.
Christ.
He rubbed his fingers over his temple to release the tension there. He’d thought being near her had made him and his wolf feel alive again, but that’d been before he’d seen the gold of her wolf eyes filled with desire as she came. He swore under his breath. Lord help him.
He placed the list in his back pocket again without opening it, fighting to maintain what little sense of self-control he had left. Out of sight, out of mind, or so he kept trying to convince himself. Thus far, that hadn’t been the case. Since he’d last seen her yesterday afternoon, he’d spent the whole day in meetings, planning the security measures for the evening’s events alongside the other warriors. As they’d done so, he’d struggled to focus on the fine details. He’d been distracted to say the least.
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