A Werewolf to Call Her Own (Mystic Isle, Book 2) (8 page)

When he met her gaze, he found her staring right back at him, laugh lines creasing her lovely eyes. And just like that, the predator inside him quieted. His fear of heights abated. Had he been in his wolf form, he would have wagged his tail.

Fuck.
He’d never wagged his tail for anyone.

“Are you coming?” Her voice was quieter, laced with uncertainty. He didn’t like that she was second-guessing herself. Despite her obvious nervousness, she’d taken to the Jet Skis and enjoyed herself. He could do this.

Then he’d scribble it on his list. Scratch it off. And never do it again.

“Let’s do it.” He nodded to the staffer who handed him a harness. Maxim quirked an eyebrow, noticing that the guy didn’t offer to help
him
strap in.

She must have read his thoughts because her smile was so broad he saw her fangs. She stared at his bare chest, then followed his movements as he attached the harness over the black swim trunks clinging to his hips.

When he had his harness in place, Sierra reached up and clipped herself to the zip-line. The staffer gave her a series of last minute instructions, pointed down to the other end of the island. The specs of light in the distance were their destination.

He sighed. She was really going through with this.

He hooked in right behind her. “Have a good time,” the man said and stepped away.

Sierra turned to Maxim and placed a hand on his chest, tipping her head back to look up at him. Her smile grew, infecting him with her enthusiasm.

“You don’t seem as excited as I am about this. I’m guessing zip-lining didn’t make it on your list.”

He grunted. “Jumping off a perfectly good platform. Sailing down a mountain. What’s not to love?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe,” she said, echoing his earlier promise on the Jet Ski.

His jaw dropped a little and she leaned closer.

“See you at the bottom,” she whispered and pressed her lips against his. Then she turned and jumped off the platform before he could respond. A cry of delight echoed through the mountains, and he smiled.

Gusto
. Somewhere in the course of the last two days, the shy woman he’d met on the terrace had blossomed, was still blossoming in front of his eyes.

Well, if she could battle her demons, so could he. He took a deep breath, jumped off the platform and sailed down the mountain after her.

Ceara clutched the straps and stared hard at the rapidly approaching platform. Four lights beckoned her with a warm yellow glow. Wind whistled in her ears and a breeze whipped her hair around her, temporarily blinding her. Soaring through the trees, sweeping beneath the stars… it was a dream come true. Another item to check off her bucket list. She felt free and exhilarated.

Two hulking men wearing the trademark Mystic Isle polo shirts stood at the edge of the platform, hands out, ready to catch her. But that didn’t stop her heart from bouncing around in her chest. Now was not the time to land flat on her butt and ruin her “
I’m a confident, fun woman
” exterior. She could do this.

What had the other guy said? Bend your knees. Right.

She fought the urge to close her eyes as she barreled down the last few meters. A little “eep” escaped her lips as her feet hit the deck. Thank goodness for good athletic shoes. Running to stay upright, she felt two pairs of hands holding her steady.

Blood rushed through her veins and adrenaline took over. She yelled out her delight to anyone who was listening.

“
S’en donner à coeur joie
. That was fun!”

The men laughed.

The distinct whir of someone coming down the line drew her attention. Maxim coasted in, broad naked chest and all. She couldn’t drag her gaze away.

He made landing look easy and graceful.

“Have fun?” she asked, noticing his grin.

“Yes.” He started taking off his harness, a determined gleam in his eyes. Men had a one-track mind. Not that she wasn’t interested… she might be young and inexperienced, but she wasn’t stupid. Men like Maxim didn’t come around often. And the sex… well…

They handed in their harnesses at the same time. He reached for her immediately, cupping her elbow and ushering her toward the stairs. After the activities of the last few days, her more tender bits needed some rest. She couldn’t tell him that, though.

“So I was thinking… want to watch a movie with me?”

Snuggling up to a sinfully handsome man, eating popcorn and watching a flick was on her list.

“I don’t know about the popcorn part… but I wouldn’t mind eating something…” he murmured against her temple.

Chapter Nine

Ceara stood on the balcony, gazing out at the water. It was their last night together. She wasn’t going to beg him to take her with him.
She wasn’t.

She shivered as a breeze raced over her skin. Or maybe it was her conscience, telling her what a fool she was. While she agreed that Maxim was as perfect as any man she could imagine, she also knew that a half dozen orgasms, a few excursions, and a day snuggled next to him on the couch watching old movies did not a relationship make.

She would just have to continue knocking “to do” items off of her list without him. He’d opened her eyes to the possibilities. Made her realize she could have all the things her heart desired.

Everything but one.

“You are so beautiful.”

She hadn’t heard him approach, but his heat quickly wrapped around her and his arms followed, crossing over her chest in a tight embrace.

“Thank you.”

“Come inside with me.”

The hard length of his erection was undeniable.

She laughed softly. “Why do you rent the penthouse if you don’t like heights?”

He sucked in a breath and his body went rigid.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m afraid of pretty much everything. And --” She took a deep breath. “I can’t swim.”

He groaned and pressed his cheek against hers. She’d be willing to bet his eyes were closed, blocking out the incredible view and the tremendous drop off. Of all the things she feared, this balcony was not one of them. She trusted the guard rail.

“So… penthouse. Heights?” she prodded.

“It has the best view and the biggest bathtub.”

“Ahh…” Smiling, she leaned back against him.

His lips moved over her neck, sending a thrill down her spine. Shimmying her ass against his cock, she grinned when it jerked against her.

“Want something?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little breathless.

“You,” he said against the side of her neck.

“Then have me.”

A growl rumbled out of him and he slid his hands beneath her skirt. She could tell by his body language the exact instant he realized she wasn’t wearing underwear.

“You naughty, naughty woman.”

“Mmm huh.” She could scarcely believe she was standing on a balcony in a skirt with no underwear. It was scandalous and yet Avery promised that he would never forget her. She was counting on it. So beneath her clothes, she was bare as the day she’d been born.

“I like it.”

She liked him.
Too much
.

To stop herself from that dangerous train of thought, she reached back and squeezed his cock. Groaning into her hair, he sank a finger into her pussy.

“You’re ready for me,” he murmured.

“Yes…”

“Good.” His hands left her just long enough to extract his cock. Then he was back, tipping her hips, lifting her skirt and guiding his cock home. He filled her with a single thrust.

She moaned and braced her hands against the railing. His hands closed over her hips, holding her in place as he picked up the pace. At that moment, she didn’t care if anyone saw her. She felt naughty and brave and delicious all in one. Who cared about something like modesty when one could enjoy incredible sex and a fabulous view?

His lips trailed over her shoulders, kissing in time with his thrusts.

“I love the sounds you make.”

And she loved the way he made her feel. Like anything was possible. And everything would be okay.

He paused, cock deep, and slid his right hand between her breasts, over her chest and closed around her throat. “Ready to come, gorgeous?”

His other hand snaked down between her legs and took position against her clit.

All she could do was moan in agreement.

He held onto her as his cock pistoned in and out. Her throat warmed beneath his hand. Her juices coated his finger, providing little resistance against the bundle of nerves that would have her seeing stars. He groaned against her shoulder and his body began to tighten. Hands. Arms. Cock.

Her own orgasm twisted inside of her, ready to let her freefall. So ready. So close. One final, long, slow thrust of his cock and… yesss.

Blinding pain radiated through her as his teeth closed over the tender area between her neck and shoulder. But as quickly as it came, the pain vanished and her head pounded. Blood rushed through her body so hard she felt as if she might come apart in his arms. He was growling, his hips still rocking against her ass.

The only thing keeping them upright was her death grip on the railing.

A handful of heartbeats later he licked the wounds closed, muttering something in a language she didn’t understand. She didn’t care. The way he was nuzzling her neck felt too good. His finger took up residence against her clit again and three circles had her crying out again. Her body clenched tight and she threw her head back against his shoulder.

The hand around her throat loosened, slid upward, and cupped her chin. She felt boneless. He held a finger over her lips but she wouldn’t have any of that. She’d earned her right to shout from the mountaintops. And she’d never be shy about it again.

She gently closed her teeth over the offending digit. His finger circled her clit again and another blinding wave swept her under. She collapsed against him, pulling her knees up as the most powerful orgasm she’d ever felt gripped her body.

Then everything went fuzzy and dark.

Still wearing his slacks, Maxim settled into the armchair so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her. Touching would lead to bonding and wanting to touch her even more. Be with her.

Propping his chin against his palm, he glanced around the luxurious room. Her flip flops lay several feet apart. His shirt puddled at the end of the bed. Her skirt slithered across the dresser. This was the evidence of his desire for her. His inability to slow down and take her as gently as she deserved to be taken.

After a midnight stargazing session, they’d joined her coven for dinner. Though, he and the other wolf, Grayson, were the only ones with food on their plate.

Maxim hadn’t missed the curious glances from the other vampires. Despite a hundred-year truce, not every vamp trusted the wolves around them.

But this was more than that. Everyone, him included, was wondering what would become of
them
after Mystic Isle. Maxim’s answer had been the same over the last few days. There was no them. She was a beautiful distraction. An incredible woman. But a vampiress. A pureblood, no less.

Nothing in the world… no amount of hoping, lusting, wishing, praying, or desire would change that.

Sierra, bless her, hadn’t mentioned anything about the future.

But he’d seen the question in Valencia Fabelle’s eyes. And the warning not to break her covenmate’s heart.

He didn’t need endless conversation to see that she was special. And very much unlike anyone he’d ever met, certainly anyone in his life. Normally surrounded by brash wolves, she was calm and utterly sweet.

A
Shewolf
would demand things; his little vamp seemed to enjoy whatever he had in mind. And the way she stared at him, so wide eyed and full of awe… he could never grow tired of it.

But as much as she soothed him, he couldn’t keep her. They were just too different. And she had so much life to live. So many adventures to have. Why would a beautiful, vibrant young vampire want to travel to a land of ice and snow to be with a werewolf and his pack?

No… he had to let her go. Tomorrow he and Hunter would meet at the small airport at the end of the island and catch a plane back to their real life.

His cell phone buzzed against his thigh, alerting him to an incoming message. He retrieved the gadget and pulled up the message. Every word he read cooled his blood.

          Danya got into fight with Francesca. She’s dead. He’s barely hanging on.

Maxim cursed under his breath and closed his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Without even knowing what had caused the row, he knew it couldn’t be good for either kind.

His gaze automatically went to the beauty in his bed. He couldn’t imagine being at odds with her. Not now. Not ever.

He wanted to shelter her from the ugliness of their world. She didn’t need to learn the truth and become jaded like him. Time would do that. He couldn’t bring himself to.

Quietly, he strode into the living room and sat down at the desk. Her scent still clung to his fingertips. He picked up a pen and started writing.

Ceara woke to a cold bed and a cool room. She reached out but the spot next to her was empty. She smiled at the memories they’d made the night before.

Where was he? She was ready for one last round before she went back to her room to pack. She couldn’t even remember what time they were supposed to leave.

He’d seen her nude enough times now that she no longer felt shy, so she didn’t bother to put anything on as she strode into the living room.

“Maxim?”

She didn’t hear anything. Not his heartbeat, the sound of him breathing, not running water or the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. The luxurious suite was eerily quiet, almost like a tomb. She made a lap around the rooms.

On the desk she found a single sheet of paper with the Mystic Isle letter head at the top.

My dear little vamp,

I received word from my pack that my Alpha has been wounded. I don’t know how badly or if he’ll make it, but as his beta I must return.