mywolfprotector (2 page)

otherwise. Over the last few years they had grown apart, maybe more than she had realized if her friend was so comfortable going off in the woods with strange men. They were polar opposites, and it had never been clearer than it was that night. While Taylor had finished school and gotten her degree in accounting, Nicole had taken a job as a waitress.

There had been times she'd almost envied Nicole's free-spirited ways. While she was working

two jobs and going to school full-time, Nicole had been out dating and having fun. Once she'd left college and gotten a job as an accountant, the pressures and responsibilities really hadn't changed. Her mom and dad needed the money that she made, which meant she had to work forty-plus hours each

week.

Now she had a one-bedroom apartment, while the majority of her money went to her parents.

She loved and respected them, but sometimes she wondered why they wouldn't work. Ever since her dad had been laid off, seven years before, the financial burden had fallen on her shoulders. Instead of working, they drank. She didn't know where they got the money for their alcohol, but it was all she could do to keep a roof over their heads.

Even though it was a Friday night, she felt overwhelmingly weary. Weekends weren't anything

special for her. Her boss knew she wanted as many hours as possible, although he didn't know what for.

They had a new client that needed a lot of work done on their books, so she was due in at the office early the next morning. She grimaced. Hopefully they would leave soon, and if she were really lucky, she'd even manage to get a few hours of sleep.

A tall, bulky man got up from a log and belched before laughing loudly. He had long, bushy

hair with a bandana tied around his forehead. His full beard was graying, as was the hair hanging down his neck. Taylor assumed he was the leader of this particular biker group, but she didn't care enough to find out.

He slapped his large pot belly with both hands, staring at the flames. His t-shirt had seen better days, leaving a gap between the bottom of his stomach and the waist of his jeans. Although he was wearing a vest, when he lifted his arms to stretch Taylor could see the large sweat stains darkening the material in the light from the fire. Her stomach churned.

Grabbing the glass bottle of whiskey from the man next to him, he took a long swig of it before bellowing, “Now where's that other woman that rode out with us? Rex, you seen her? I'm in the mood for a little fun.” He grabbed his crotch area suggestively as her body tensed in fear.

The man she rode in with laughed. “You mean the plump one? I thought you liked them long

and lean?” The other men snickered.

He shrugged his broad shoulders before replying. “Hell, man, after a little liquor who gives a shit? You know what they say. It's all pink in the middle, right? Big Reb here is looking for some release, and she's got the right parts to give it.”

Taylor quietly crawled behind the tree, preparing to run if he came after her. She was stuck

between a rock and a hard place, miles away from anyone that could help. And what about Nicole? She gnawed at her lip nervously.

Another man spoke up loudly, his voice easily heard above the music playing from the radio

behind them. “When you're done, I might want to take a ride on that myself, Reb.” The woman leaning up against him drunkenly didn't react. “Janet won't mind, will you?” She didn't respond.

Taylor had heard enough. There was a steady drone in the distance, but she was to panicked to

think about it. She went down on all fours, and started crawling away. The ground was rocky, biting into the tender flesh of her kneecaps. It was slow going. It didn't take long for the others to see her.

“There she is right there,” Reb said belligerently, handing the bottle to one of his lackeys sitting on the log.

She looked back over her shoulder as she quickly stood up. Her body was frozen in fear, her

mind panicked. If it weren't for Nicole, she'd already be gone. A long walk in an isolated area sounded like paradise compared to this.

Reb was marching in her direction, his expression angry. “Get over here, Bitch. It's time to have a little fun.” Despite the heavy amount of hard liquor he'd consumed, his body was steady. His feet quickly ate up the distance between them until he was towering over her.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her to him, locking her body to his with his massive hand. His

fingers dug into the plump and tender flesh, and she knew she'd be bruised in the morning. The action alone angered her, turning her fear to rage at his audacity. “Let go of me, now,” she demanded, her voice firm and decisive. “I didn't come out here to find a quick roll in the hay, and I don't intend on having one with you.”

He laughed, revealing missing teeth and black cavities. “Let's see how you feel after a few

swigs of that bottle over there.”

She yanked on her arm, but he refused to release it. The drone got louder, penetrating the haze of horror in her mind. Something was moving in fast. Dread consumed her. Was it more of his group coming in?

He turned at the noise as the headlight from the motorcycle cut across the darkness of the night.

“Look at that ride,” one of the bikers murmured appreciatively as the motorcycle quickly swerved to a stop. Kicking the stand down, a powerfully built male climbed off of it.

Immediately, he started to them. His shoulders were broad, his long legs quickly eating up the distance between them. “Release her,” he growled, stepping into the light. When he did, Taylor couldn't do anything but stare.

Her unlikely rescuer was simply the most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on. He was

extremely tall, towering over the biker still gripping her arm. His body was sturdy underneath the black leather he was wearing, his hips lean and his thighs broad and strong. Taylor felt the heat of his gaze upon her before moving on.

Everyone was silent at the sight of the newcomer. He had an air of danger about him, a don't-

fuck-with-me attitude that even the inebriated bikers could sense. She immediately felt safe, knowing somewhere deep within that this man would make everything all right. Everyone,
everything
but him dimmed from her thoughts.

His tanned skin had a gentle sheen in the light from the fire, his long, coal-black hair framing his masculine face. He appeared otherworldly, as beautiful as a fallen angel, and Taylor knew he was her only chance at survival. His eyes were hidden beneath a pair of black sunglasses, his chin strong and firmly defined. Without conscious thought she stepped toward him, only to be stopped by the brutal hand on her arm. Reb quickly yanked her back into her reality, refusing to relinquish her.

Taking advantage of Reb’s focus on the other man, she kicked him as hard as she could in his

shin. He roared in rage and pain. His grip slackened briefly, long enough for her to yank her arm away from him. Quickly she ran behind the newcomer, hoping and praying that she wasn't about to get him hurt. “Please, help me,” she said, her throat nearly closed off in fear of what would happen next. “My friend Nicole is here somewhere, but I don't know where she is.”

He didn't turn around. In a deep, lethal voice, he asked, “Did she go willingly?”

“Yes,” she replied, although she hated to, knowing that Nicole would be left behind.

“Then there is nothing we can do.” Taylor swallowed hard in sadness, waiting for him to ask if she were here willingly. He never did.

The breeze at the lake picked up, causing the tips of his long, silky, black hair to blow back against her invitingly. He smelled good, his cologne woodsy and masculine. She burrowed up closer to his back, uncaring what he thought. His body felt solid, safe,
right
. He represented the only security and safety she could find in this area, and she was determined to stick close to him.

“We are leaving,” he announced authoritatively, his stance relaxed despite the danger. “If

anyone has a problem with this come over here now, and I'll take care of it for you. Otherwise, back the fuck off.”

The bikers at the bonfire glanced uneasily at each other. They weren't strangers to trouble, but they knew this man represented something that could be deadly for them. He was too large and too confident, unafraid of the size of their gang or the men themselves. “Take her, man. We don't want her,”

one of them responded, cautiously. “We aren't looking for any trouble, just a good time before we hit the road again.”

“Speak for yourself,” Reb roared, his face flushed. “She came out here knowing damn good and

well what we'd be expecting. She owes us, and I plan on collecting.” He turned to Marrok, giving him a calculating look with his beady eyes. “I'll tell you what. How about you go over there and have a drink with the others while I take that one out in the bushes for a little while. I'll make it fast. When we come back, she's more than welcome to leave with you.”

Faster than the eye could see, the stranger moved. His large fist connected with the other man's face, a scream of pain tearing through dark night. She gasped as he stepped back to her. Reb was lying ten feet away, knocked out cold and lying on the hard ground.

“Holy shit,” one of the bikers gasped drunkenly from his perch on the log. He held the bottle

back to his lips, swallowing deeply before holding the bottle back up to look at it. “This must be some damn good liquor. I thought I just saw big Reb flying, but we all know there's no way that could ever happen.”

“Shut up,” another hissed, holding his hands up in surrender when the man in leather focused on him. “Please, just take her. We don't want her, just don't hurt us, man.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” he assured them coolly. “I can assure you I would have anyhow. Make sure

the other woman doesn't come to harm. If she does, I'll know it, and I'll be back to finish what I started.”

The bikers shrank back as a whole, convinced he meant every word. “Sure, whatever you say.”

With one last, long, lingering look at the cowering bikers, he turned to her. Taylor stared up at him, too shocked by the events of the night to say anything. “Hop on,” he told her briskly, his tone revealing nothing. “I'll be right behind you.”

She ran to the bike. He held it in place while she got on carefully, before sliding on in front of her. His lean hips teased the flesh in between her thighs, surprisingly erotic despite the danger. Heat pooled in the center of her body, the muscles in her stomach fluttering in response. Underneath her panties, her body grew wet and slick. It was an unfamiliar feeling. She blushed uncomfortably as he looked back at her over his shoulder.

“Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tight.” Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice her

wayward reaction to him. He waited until she nodded in agreement before he fired up the motorcycle and took off with a roar.

She watched the bikers as they left, worried they would retaliate. None of them moved,

although they might have had Reb regained consciousness. He remained laid out on the ground,

unmoving. Nicole was nowhere to be seen. Anxiety shot through her body as she worried for her friend, causing her arms to tighten around his waist without realizing it.

The motorcycle bounced across the holes in the dirt road, but he was able to avoid the worst of them with his expert handling. It was only accessible by bike or foot. A car would have bottomed out nearly immediately. Could help even reach Nicole in time? As if he could read her very mind, he said loudly, “Don't worry for your friend. I know the local sheriff. When we get to a phone I'll call and have someone come out.”

She nodded, although she knew he wouldn't be able to see her. “What's your name?” She asked,

laying the side of her cheek against his back.

“Marrok Walker. What about you?”

“Taylor Moore. Thank you for what you did back there. It was very brave of you. I-I can only

imagine what would have happened if you hadn't shown up.”

So could he, judging by the way his body tensed up underneath her arms.

“What were you doing out there with them to begin with?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

She quickly explained. He was silent for a moment before she felt a rumble pass through his

body. “You can be damned sure that won't ever be happening again,” he replied, his voice thick with anger.

Before she could ask him what he meant, he hit the main road. Swerving onto the paved

surface, he turned the throttle wide open. Conversation was useless. Blonde hair intertwined with black as it streamed out behind them, the motorcycle carrying them away into the dark night.

* * * * *

calm, inside he was a hotbed of emotions ranging from anger to elation. His body still burned at the danger she'd been in, but he fought to push it aside. His mate had arrived, and she was more than he could have ever hoped for. He helped her off, his eyes starved as they slid over her.

Tall for a female, he guessed her to be somewhere around 5'11. Where his skin was dark and

tanned from his Native American heritage, hers was extremely pale and luminous. Her hair was long, pale-blonde, and gently curled all the way down to her waist. And her body.... He swallowed back the lust-filled groan as he inhaled deeply for control over his wayward body. One day, he would take her bent over his motorcycle, making sweet, gentle love underneath the glow of the moon, but now wasn't the time.

Taylor stared at the area around her, turning to look at his cabin. Her shoulders, hips, and thighs were wide and proportionate, her waist narrowing in above a softly-rounded stomach. Her breasts were high and firm underneath the shortened tank top. The material hugged her rounded globes and then ended, revealing a large expanse of tantalizing skin.

Marrok knew that many women of size would be too embarrassed to wear an outfit such as this

one, but he couldn't understand why. He was extremely aroused by the sight of her bountiful body, and vowed right then and there to buy several more outfits like these for her to wear. Only when they were alone, of course. He growled at the thought of another man getting a glimpse of so much of her luscious flesh.