by Eve Langlais
Still…I wasn’t in the habit of kissing guys. Especially not so quickly after meeting them.
Although, technically, I’d known him for years.
Nope. That was a different time. A different me. We were both adults now. Strangers. And I was still a misfit. He shouldn’t get mixed up with me, no matter how good his mouth felt on mine.
Hence why I yanked my mouth free and began walking to my room, a swing to my hips. “You coming?” I purred in my huskiest come-hither voice.
I swear I could feel the heat of his gaze.
“Not fair, Claire,” he growled.
“That totally rhymed,” I complimented. “You coming upstairs to finish this?” Let him think I meant to continue the kiss. Maybe I would, in the interest of prying more information from his stubborn lips.
“No.”
Did he seriously mean that? I cast him a coy glance over my shoulder. It always worked when Beth did it.
He simply glowered at me.
Simmering-hot wolf man. Looking so dangerous. I shivered when he took one step toward me.
Then sighed in disappointment when he turned on his heel and walked in the wrong direction.
So much for getting him to my room to spill his secrets; however, I had won a minor victory.
My kiss, with complimentary grope, had born fruit. I had his wallet. With his driver’s license showing an address. Since he wouldn’t talk to me, I would simply stalk Derek and see where he went. Who he spoke to. Maybe spot some of the trouble he hinted about.
Smiling to myself, I opened the door to my motel room and walked in.
The cologne smell was back, stronger than before, along with the pungent smoke from a cigarette, but it was the chloroform that worried me most.
“Hel—” The sound was cut off as the cloth was slapped over my mouth.
Chapter 5
Why did I say no? The woman he’d had fantasies about had asked him back to her room, and like a moron, he refused. Strolling away, hands in his pockets, Derek was calling himself all kinds of dumb when he heard it: A faint cry, cut off. Could be anyone, anything. Perhaps a television show. A radio. A complete stranger.
Even before his wolf could raise his hackles, he turned around and jogged back. He emerged from between two buildings to see the taillights of a car and the silhouette of someone leaning over the trunk with something in their arms while another fellow looked on. What did they toss in there?
Probably luggage, and yet something didn’t seem right.
Call it instinct. Or just a need to act. His wolf urged speed, and he listened, crossing the road with long strides. He made a beeline toward the car, remaining silent as the two guys opened the car doors. The dome light came on and showed a bald man wearing sunglasses—at night, which caused a certain song to want to play in Derek’s head. As for the bald man’s companion, he was a brute of a man with a fresh and bleeding scratch on his cheek.
Odd how the mind could home in and focus on details when the adrenaline flowed. How did the man get the scratch? What were they doing here looking so suspicious?
This inquiring wolf wanted to know, so when the car began to move, Derek threw himself in front of it before it could pull out of the parking lot. It braked, the horn honked, and the headlights flashed at him. He held up his hands and shook his head.
The passenger rolled down his window. “Get out of the way, asshole.”
“Sure, once you show me what you threw in your trunk.”
“None of your fucking business.”
“I’m making it my business.”
The man with the glasses—the driver—rolled down his window and said, “Nothing suspicious, friend. Just our bags.”
Except his gut said it wasn’t luggage.
“Prove it. Pop the trunk.”
“How about I pop you,” threatened the big dude.
“If you’ve got nothing to hide, then what’s the problem?”
“Exactly what do you think we have in there, friend?” The sunglasses fellow remained the calmer voice of reason.
“Looked more like a body than luggage to me.”
“Such an imagination. Sorry to disappoint but it wasn’t a body.”
“Open the trunk.” His certainty only grew.
“And if I decline?”
“That’s not an option. You aren’t leaving until I see what’s in there.”
Teeth, yellowed by tobacco, gleamed. “And how will you stop me, friend?” Sunglasses gestured to his companion, who emerged from the car, rather taller than expected, wider, too.
He also smelled of a certain lady Derek had recently kissed.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Derek said with a sigh.
“No, he shouldn’t have,” grumbled Claire before she swung the tire iron at the guy’s head. At the first blow the big dude bellowed and began to turn. The second whack had his eyes rolling up, and he fell unconscious on the ground.
Derek just stared as Claire stood over the body, tire iron raised, grinning from ear to ear. A little too maniacally for Derek’s comfort. She leaned down and peered through the open door.
“Please, get out,” she asked so politely.
Sunglasses pursed his lips.
Derek approached. “You heard the lady. Get your ass out of that car.”
“You’ll regret this, friend.” The guy floored the gas pedal, and Claire squealed as she was knocked away. The car hit the street hard and sped off, the passenger door swinging shut.
He ran to her side. “Claire. Are you hurt?”
“Well, that’s a bummer,” she lamented. “Why did you let him get away?”
“I’m sorry, I should have stood in front of him and let him run me over.”
“That would have been helpful. Where’s a tack strip when you need one?” she grumbled. “Next time, while I handle the muscle, you should try and contain the brain.”
“Are you seriously giving me shit?”
“There were only two guys. I took care of one, you should have had the other, or was I supposed to do all the work?” She planted her hands on her hips.
He rubbed his face. “You are freaking nuts.”
“I’m nuts? That seems harsh given I’m the victim here. Or did you forget I was the one being kidnapped? Good thing I saved myself.”
“I was trying to stop them in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I noticed you provided distraction by talking a lot.” She rolled her eyes.
“How did you get out of the trunk?”
“The emergency latch of course. All the cars have them.”
“And does everyone think to grab a tire iron and knock people out with them?”
“Only the smart ones. No need to thank me. I know you’re feeling grateful I saved you from what would have been a sound beating.”
“Who says he would have beaten me?”
“Did you see the size of his hands?” she exclaimed.
“I’ve got big hands, too,” he snapped, holding them up.
Her gaze dropped. “Big feet, too. Trying to tell me something?”
He gaped. “You did not just say that. That’s—”
“Untrue? Are you going to destroy that old wives’ tale?”
“Well, no, but still, um,” he stammered. Judging by the heat in his cheeks, he blushed.
Whereas she giggled. She also knelt beside the unconscious guy and frowned. “He’s going to be heavy to lug around.”
“Lug him? Jeezus, Claire, what are you planning to do with him?”
“Question him, of course. We should take him to my room unless you’ve got a better place. I don’t suppose you have access to a torture chamber?”
He gaped.
“Maybe a sex room with restraints?”
Did his bed and some neckties count? “Enough,” he barked.
“Enough what? Did I guess right? You do have a sex room?” She blinked at him with innocence, but her smile was anything but.
“No. Nor do I
have handcuffs or any of that kinky stuff.”
“What if you need to tie a woman down?”
“My partners are willing, so no need.”
“What if I want to tie you down?” Her lips curved with mischief.
“Again, no need. You want me…” He held out his arms. “Come and get me.”
Now it was her turn to look away. She studied the guy on the ground. “We should move him before anyone wonders what’s going on. You grab his—”
“Hey, you need help out there?”
A nosy motel neighbor poked his head from his room. His white tank top pristine, his hair on end, and his yellow boxers sporting a happy face.
“No worries. I think he had too much to drink,” Claire hollered.
“We were just going to take him to his room,” Derek added.
The nosy guy came out of his room and leaned over the body. “I think he needs more than his bed. That’s a nasty bruise on his head he got from falling. Betty!” he bellowed. “Call an ambulance.”
There was no dissuading Happy Shorts. An ambulance was called, the guy taken away on a stretcher, and since they weren’t related, neither of them could go with the medics or even find out his name.
Within twenty minutes, the guy was packed off in an ambulance, leaving Derek to see Claire to the door of her room.
“Sorry we lost him. Maybe we can go see him at the hospital later and see if he’ll talk.”
She snorted. “As if his partner in crime won’t spring him out of there within the hour.”
Valid point. “Why were they kidnapping you?”
“Because I’m awesome.” A boast he didn’t disagree with.
“Seriously, Claire. Did they say anything to you?”
“Nope. They just slapped some chloroform on my face, and I was out like a light.”
“You recovered pretty quick.”
“Yeah, I metabolize stuff quickly on account of my bunny genes.”
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” he said.
“Me, too.” She smiled and, for a moment, looked just like the sweet girl he used to know. A girl who didn’t go around whacking guys with tire irons.
“Took a lot of guts to protect yourself like that.” He delayed his departure, not ready to leave her quite yet.
“More than you know. I have a problem with freezing sometimes when I get scared.”
“Well, you didn’t freeze tonight.”
“No, I didn’t. And I didn’t turn into a cotton ball ninja.”
He snickered. “I can just imagine the terror on their faces had you gone floppy-eared and hopped away.”
“You have no idea.” Said in a dry tone.
“So, did you want me to come inside, maybe check the place over, make sure no kidnappers stayed behind?” No use denying it. He didn’t want to leave. Heck, he should have never refused her earlier invitation.
Her nose twitched once, and she licked her lips, indecision on her face. She shook her head. “I’m good. There’s no one else here.”
“You should let me stay. What if they come back?”
“I know how to protect myself. Bye, Derek. Nice seeing you again.”
Bye?
She meant it. The door shut in his face, and he stared at it long enough to seem creepy-stalkerish before he turned away. He debated parking his ass across the street. Since the kidnapping had failed, he doubted they’d try again that same night. But what about tomorrow?
He needed to convince Claire to leave town. The sooner, the better because, apparently, she was on someone’s radar.
Which meant they’d try again, and next time, he might not be around to see her kick some ass.
Seriously. Little Claire with the bright smile had taken down that guy as if it were nothing.
He didn’t know if that turned him on or frightened the hell out of him.
Problem was, now that he’d seen her again? He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Once upon a time, he’d lusted after a pretty girl. Now he lusted after the woman.
Once he reached home, he discovered nothing could distract him from thoughts of her. His cock especially refused to quiet down. Semi-erect and annoyed he’d not done more to pursue that fine ass.
Only one thing to do since he couldn’t have Claire. His pants hit the floor, and he wrapped his hand around the hard length of his cock. He stroked the velvet skin, hand sliding up and down, picturing instead her smaller fingers on it. Perhaps those perfect lips poised for a kiss.
The very thought brought a pearl of liquid, which he spread over the head of his shaft. A shaft that would have loved to have her tongue lapping at it.
He closed his eyes and could picture it so easily. Claire on her knees, fingers gripping his dick, her mouth open wide, ready to take his rigid length deep. The heat of her as she sucked.
She still had that amazing golden hair. Hair he wanted to grab. Feel. He’d wager it was soft as silk.
Every part of her would be silken and sweet. Would she cry out if he lapped at her cunt? Would she grab at him and urge him to take her?
To fuck her.
Derek groaned and stroked his cock faster, a tight fist around it, pumping up and down with almost manic speed.
He had to wonder if she would swallow when he came, or would she present her luscious tits to him, a landing spot for his cream?
Or would she want him to thrust into her? Drive his cock into that sweet pussy of hers, fingers digging into his back, her hips and body undulating under him until she screamed his name.
He came. Hard. And barely managed to catch his cum with his T-shirt. But his cock didn’t wilt. It remained semi-hard. His mind still full of Claire.
Beautiful. Curvy. Claire.
He knew in that moment he had to see her again.
Chapter 6
I slept like a baby—after I secured the motel room; wedging a chair under the doorknob. Since I couldn’t do the same to the bathroom window, I scattered toiletries on the bathroom floor. Tripping hazards that would make some noise if someone tried to climb in. I took notes during Home Alone and expanded upon that boy’s brilliance.
As to the window at the front, it was sealed shut with silicone. The only way someone would get in was by smashing it. The breaking tinkle of glass should wake me if someone were that brazen.
Only once I felt safe did I crawl into bed.
All that adrenaline I’d used fighting off the drug and then combatting my terror needed replenishing. My head hit the pillow, and I fell into a deep sleep.
One filled with dreams. All featuring Derek.
No surprise. A chance meeting, a stroll down memory lane, and then a scorching kiss? Add in the fact he wanted to come to my rescue, and when I woke, was it any wonder my hand crept under the covers?
Bad hand. I was not going to masturbate to the thought of Derek. I’d had my chance to invite him in for the real thing, but I decided to act responsibly instead.
A shower was the thing I needed to clear my mind and cool off. However, the lukewarm shower did nothing for my raging libido. I couldn’t stop thinking of the kiss.
That electric kiss. And the feel of him, so big and strong. The fact he was a wolf only added to my excitement. He was dangerous.
Sexy.
A distraction.
Oh heck. There was no point fighting it. I apparently wouldn’t be able to think straight until I took care of business. I leaned against the cool tile and closed my eyes. All the better to picture Derek.
I ran my hands over my body, and the weird thing was, no matter how many times I touched myself, I enjoyed the exploration. The sensation of my fingers gliding over slick wet skin.
I cupped my breasts, a nice handful, not entirely firm. I squeezed them and totally pretended it was Derek’s callused hands fondling me. A brush of my thumb over the nipples and they hardened. A jolt hit me between the legs at the thought of him sucking the tips. Drawing those pointed peaks into his mouth.
A hand slid down my body as I
imagined him working my nipples with his teeth and lips. Bet he was a biter.
My hand slipped between my thighs, and it wasn’t just the water making me slick. My fingertip ran over my sensitive nub, and my breathing quickened. I rubbed, feeling my flesh engorging, my pussy clenching. My other hand slid between my thighs, and I penetrated myself with two fingers.
Thrust in and out as my finger worked my clit. Wishing Derek was here on his knees sucking at my sex. Or even better, pumping his shaft into me.
He was big and strong enough to lift me and bounce me on his cock. He’d stroke me deep and hard.
My fingers worked faster, and my whole body quivered with arousal. My pussy was slick with cream, but my orgasm hung just out of reach.
Angling my hips let me push deeper, and I gasped.
But it wasn’t enough. I needed more.
I fantasized about what Derek would do next. Tossing me onto a bed, pulling my legs up to rest on his shoulders, exposing me to him.
Oh.
He’d slam his cock into me. Deep. Hard. He’d pump me, grinding against my sex, hitting me in that sweet spot. Over and over and…
I came, the force of the flex squeezing my fingers. My knees trembled, and I sank to the floor of the shower, my body riding the ebbing wave of my orgasm.
An orgasm that left me dissatisfied. Probably because it wasn’t the real thing.
And it would never be the real thing because I couldn’t get involved with Derek. He remembered me as sweet Claire Mahoney. He had no idea of the things I’d done. What I was capable of doing.
I couldn’t bear to see the look on his face if he did.
Frustrated and with too much energy to burn, I threw on my jogging gear.
Chocolate and candy wasn’t the only thing I loved. Running came a close second.
Nothing like getting the blood flowing and my muscles tingling with a good jog, especially on a fresh and dewy morning. The sight of frost on the ground wasn’t daunting. Crisp air filled my lungs. My legs pumped, along with my arms. I followed a path I’d mapped out.
It took me right by Derek’s house. According to his driver’s license, he lived at 452 Eighteenth Street. As I ran past, I took note of the single-story home. No garage, just a driveway with a pickup truck. No flowers or bushes in the front. Just a lonely pine tree. Someone needed a landscaper in a bad way.