For Life (9 page)

Even though he spoke softly, not condemning, the truth of his words bit deep. Her gut twisted painfully. She wasn’t in denial. But hearing that she was without a pack made it sink in even farther.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve run alone.” Confessing her past ate at her pride. But he might as well know now she wasn’t a bitch from a strong line or a powerful den who would offer her up as some worthy catch. “Heidi and I met up in Canada and joined Bob, who is our pack leader now. There were a handful of us back then, and we grew as we came down through the States. I guess you could say our pack originated with the rogue
lunewulfs
, those wanting something other than what their local pack would give them.”

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Lorie O’Clare

She smiled as she remembered her wilder days, back when it didn’t matter that she had no den or a name to fall back on. The lot of them was wild, eager and willing to go wherever fresh meat ran. They chased after an adventure and gave little thought to the future other than making sure there were meat to eat and at times a warm body to snuggle with and get laid.

Josie’s slow smile probably matched the one on her face. “Our pasts are similar,” he mused. “When I arrived in the States, it was pretty much jumping from one pack to the next. Except in my case, more times than not, I stayed until they learned about the Malta werewolf history, then I was sent packing.”

“You could fight them,” she protested, shaking her head. Their histories weren’t the same.

“Sure.” He raised one shoulder lazily, then let it fall. “But there was no point. Why give Malta werewolves a worse reputation than they already had? When I caught up with Nicolo and Dimitri, we learned about Dante’s efforts to claim territory for Malta werewolves here in the mountains. They brought their den here and I followed them. It will take time before Malta werewolves are once again known as a powerful and invincible pack. But we’re making our mark here. And we aren’t going anywhere.”

“I think you’re closer to having that reputation than you think.” Most of her pack spoke of Malta werewolves as a breed to leave alone. And it wasn’t because they were ill-mannered.

Josie’s dark eyes glowed like black gems, while his gaze burrowed deep into her soul. Even relaxed on the couch without an aggressive air about him, he looked deadly and so very capable of springing into action, protecting and fighting for what he viewed as his. Her tummy flip-flopped and her own scent changed as she wondered if he might ever view her as part of what he claimed.

“Come here,” he growled, his voice a husky, rough whisper. He barely lifted his hand from the back of the couch and beckoned to her.

She couldn’t hide her scent any more than she could keep her thoughts from him.

Somehow knowing he had such complete power, able to know what was in her mind the second she did, gave her a warped feeling of security. There would never be secrets with this werewolf, but at the same time he could never claim he didn’t know if she wanted something as well.

The oversized shirt hung low and rode up her ass, leaving her backside exposed and vulnerable as she crawled across the couch and then placed her hands on his shoulders. Josie continued reclining, his body relaxed and his arms spread, one on the arm of the couch and one on the back of it while watching her with a predator’s gaze.

His scent called to her, building the need that already simmered inside her. She’d gone too long without good sex and had a feeling she could take all he could give her and still beg for more.

“Think so?” he whispered, then moved so quickly she barely saw his hand leave the arm of the couch before he grabbed a handful of her hair at the back of her head. It 44

For Life

stung when he held on to her tightly, keeping her face inches from his while watching her expression carefully. “If you plan on using me for sex until you’ve had your fill then it sounds like you’ve decided to stay for a while.”

“Hearing my thoughts doesn’t mean you’ve heard any decisions I’ve made, wolf man,” she whispered, bracing herself over him while pressing her palms into his shoulders. His body was hot, and corded muscle twitched against her palms. “You must know any werewolf will imagine the best of scenarios in their mind. That doesn’t mean that is how life plays out.”

“Very true. But there is nothing wrong with fighting to have the best of what there is out there.”

“I thought I did that once.” Pete had appeared to be the best catch in the pack when she mated with him.

Josie let go of her hair and looked away from her. “I would never hit a bitch for any reason,” he growled.

“I never implied that you would,” she hissed, ready to take him on and show him that she wouldn’t let Pete’s abuse ruin her ability to be with another werewolf.

“You think fighting for the best that there is will get you what you’ve already had.”

“No. I meant that once I thought Pete was the best. I made a mistake.” Her knees barely pressed against his body. She leaned over him, her hands resting on his shoulders while she stretched over him. Even though he relaxed underneath her, giving her the aggressor’s position, she had no doubt that he could take her down in a moment’s notice.

“The only mistake you made was not knowing in your heart what you wanted for a mate.”

“What I want hasn’t changed. The sad part is, on the surface, he gave me

everything I wanted—a den that was well respected in the pack.”

“That has its appeal. It offers security. My den was killed in Malta.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m not sure where my mother is right now, and I never knew for sure who my sire was.” She wasn’t sure why she confessed the truth of her past—it certainly didn’t make her measure up as a reputable bitch admitting more or less that her mother was a whore.

His gaze remained hooded. He turned his head slowly and appeared to focus on her hanging shirt. Underneath, with the material so loose, her breasts felt full and exposed even though he couldn’t see any part of her from her position. But her backside was completely exposed and that built a heat inside her, making her pussy pulse with need.

“My sire died before we were burned out. My younger brother and I fought during the fires. He didn’t make it. My mother didn’t make it either.” There wasn’t any remorse in his voice. And she smelled no emotions on him when he shared the sad ending of his den.

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Lorie O’Clare

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, even though she doubted he looked for

sympathy. His expression never changed. Josie was damned hard to sniff out—a characteristic that kept her on the defensive.

He moved his hand from the back of the couch and ran it over her bare bottom. His touch singed her skin and she held her breath, fighting the urge not to arch into him or move her body so his fingers would reach the spot that craved his touch the most. The smell of her lust soaked the air around them.

“Sometimes the only way to have an honorable den is to build one on your own,”

he whispered, barely moving his mouth.

“That would be rather hard for me to do on my own.” Very near impossible,

actually. Females didn’t establish a den on their own, unless they were widowed.

He had to be in her head at that moment. The second she thought about only a widowed bitch having the rank to build her own den, his gaze lifted to hers. Fire burned in his black orbs. Just imagining him taking on Pete, ripping the asshole to shreds, sent a shudder through her body. Would Josie really fight for her? Or more likely, would he secretly attack Pete, destroying him to give her freedom, but then not let anyone know he’d killed Pete so that he could keep from having to mate with her?

Maura shrieked when Josie flew off the couch—she swore he literally flew. His entire body shot forward, taking her with him. Hard muscle hit her like steel as she stumbled backward with his impact.

“When I kill a werewolf, I take credit for doing so,” he hissed, his teeth turning pointy and pushing against his lips as he spoke.

Even though she was no match for him, her instincts kicked in when he sent them both flying off the couch. His arms were around her and he stepped forward until he pinned her to the wall. She didn’t think about his powers or his strength in comparison to hers—she just reacted to the attack.

Fire burned in her veins. Her jaw stretched and her teeth extended. So did her nails.

She clawed his shoulders and instantly inhaled the metallic smell of blood. The ripe, rich aroma called forth her more natural, pure state. She fought him, letting her instincts rule her actions.

“Only an idiot would kill a werewolf then announce it, knowing his reward would be a bitch he doesn’t even know.” Her words came out garbled as her teeth poked at her lips. The taste of her own blood fed her more carnal side. Even though he had his arms wrapped around her, she fought him, fisting her hands and hitting his shoulders. “Not to mention a
lunewulf
bitch, one your kind despises.”

“Does it look like I despise you?” he whispered, then lowered his head and nipped at her lip. He growled when he ran his tongue over the spot where she’d bit herself.

Her insides sparked with desire. She grabbed his shoulders and held on to him while she pressed into him to deepen the kiss. He released his grip on her, then scorched her skin when he ran his hands down her arms and then under her shirt.

Gripping her ass, he pulled her closer, lifting her so that his hard cock pressed into her.

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For Life

“Our bodies don’t despise each other.” Her head fell back, bumping the wall. She didn’t feel the thud. So much powerful muscle pressed against her and his hard cock throbbed between them. Her insides swarmed with need and with every breath she inhaled his masculine scent. Trying to make him see what she was sure he already knew seemed like too much effort. But since she couldn’t smell any emotions on him other than lust, she had to try. “But just because you can crawl around inside my mind doesn’t mean I have a clue what is going on inside your mind.”

“Ask me anything and I will tell you.” He nipped at her lip again but then

straightened. “Accept your widow status, and when you’re ready to hear why I would do it, then I will tell you.”

With that he backed away from her. She noticed the tear in his shirt from where she’d scratched him with her nails extended. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care. His gaze traveled down her before he turned his back to her.

That was when she heard footsteps outside. His scent and mood changed and he stiffened. For the first time since she’d arrived here she smelled something other than lust on him—a strong, deadly protector’s instinct. It was ripe, musky and so intoxicating it almost made her lightheaded. With his back to her he raised one arm, then pointed.

“It’s Nicolo and Heidi. She has clothes for you and you two may go into my

bedroom to visit while I speak with Nicolo out here. Go into my room now. You aren’t dressed appropriately. Heidi will come join you.”

Maura headed into his bedroom. Josie would fuck her after having her in his den for less than a day but then turn around and insist she be respected and out of sight because she wasn’t presentable. She put her hand on the doorknob to shut the door when Josie opened the front door. Cold air immediately wrapped around her legs and she pushed the door until it was almost closed, using it to block the air from outside.

She listened to the greetings, knowing Nicolo was a werewolf Josie had known for years. Yet in spite of his friendship, he would honor Maura enough to make sure she didn’t appear like a bitch willing to spread her legs in exchange for a bit of protection.

“Did he hurt you?” Heidi whispered as she appeared in the small hallway, then stepped into Josie’s bedroom when Maura opened the door farther for her. “Oh man.

Talk about the smell of sex being intoxicating. Give me all the details.”

She handed Maura a bundle of clothes and then stood watching her while Maura shut the door. The males must have stepped outside, making it impossible for them to be overheard, or for her to overhear anything they would say.

“He’s really hard for me to figure out, and no, he hasn’t hurt me.”

“I saw the rips in his shirt. It looks like you clawed him. But then from how it smells in here, maybe those claw marks are proof that he’s a damned good fuck?” She waggled her eyebrows, her face glowing from the cold. The fresh smell of happiness and amusement were a wonderful, refreshing scent.

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Lorie O’Clare

“He’s got that magic they talk about Malta werewolves having.” She wasn’t sure why she kept her voice quiet, but somehow she wasn’t convinced they wouldn’t be overheard if Josie decided he wanted to listen in. “And he took me by surprise right before you got here. I reacted instinctively and attacked. He’s a damned hard werewolf to figure out.”

Heidi laughed and then plopped down on the edge of Josie’s unmade bed. She

smelled indifferent to the ripe aroma of Josie clinging to it as she let her gaze travel over Maura. She smiled when Maura pulled Josie’s shirt over her head and then began trying on Heidi’s clothes.

“Nicolo said that same thing about Josie when we were talking about the two of you earlier. I really don’t know him that well and so asked Nicolo to tell me about him.

I figured that way I could at least find out for you if he were a good male or not.”

“What did Nicolo say about him? I mean, other than he’s impossible to figure out?”

Maura realized Josie didn’t have a mirror in his bedroom and peeked out the bedroom door, sniffing the air to determine if the males were in the cabin or not.

When she knew they were alone in the den, she headed to the bathroom with Heidi in tow.

“Nicolo grew up with Josie. He says Josie is an honorable werewolf, hardworking, but has never shown any interest in settling down with a bitch. Apparently he’s fucked a lot of the bitches in the pack.” She wrinkled her nose and tilted her head while studying the jeans and sweater Maura had on. “Those look good on you. Keep them. It might be a while before we can get into town to do any shopping.”