Rae, Beverly - Howling for Sara [Night Runner Werewolves 1] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Special Edition) (3 page)

Chapter Two

Michael strode along the road toward the Matheson house and fought the urge to turn around and take Sara into his arms. He longed to press his lips to hers, to kiss her until he had to come up for air. He swallowed, imagining his tongue slipping into her mouth, his hands cupping her sweet ass, holding her against him until she could no longer stand.

She was more alluring than she’d been in the dreams. Her auburn hair looked softer, and he ached to let it slip through his fingers like a silken waterfall. Her eyes, a luxurious mocha brown, made him hope to spend the rest of his life staring into their depths. And her body—oh, hell, her body was a ripe fruit perfect for the picking.

He’d seen the way her breasts pushed against the material of her T-shirt, seen the outline of her pebbled nipples, and knew she wore no bra. Did she go commando, too? Damn, he hoped so. He gritted his teeth against the yearning brewing in his crotch and kept his attention on the path in front of him.

Just get her to the house. You’ve waited this long, you can wait a little while longer.

“Uh, hey.” She hurried to keep up with him. “We never introduced ourselves. Which is pretty weird when you consider I almost ran you over.” Her nervous giggle was entrancing. “Can you slow down? Every time I catch up with you, you speed up even more.” She thrust out her hand.

Stopping, he took the risk that he would scoop her into his arms and faced her. Her sweet, round face glowed as her doe eyes twinkled in the moonlight. Her hair fell to her shoulders and floated around her face as the breeze caressed her skin. Damn breeze. He wanted to be the one doing the caressing.

He dropped his gaze and stared at her hand. Could he touch her? Could he do something as simple as taking her hand without losing control? He’d barely managed to hold himself in check before, and with each minute that passed the urge grew stronger.

Yet, unable to resist, he engulfed her hand in his larger one. Sizzling desire struck him, blindsiding him. After experiencing the electricity between them when he’d helped her from the car, he should’ve been prepared for another jolt.

The wolf inside roared to life, threatening to break free, and the Change started without his acquiescence. He sensed the amber beginning to show in his eyes and felt the tips of his fangs break through his gums. Growling, he yanked his hand away from hers and pushed the beast back inside its cage.

Had she seen?

Her lips parted, calling for him to kiss her, so he had no choice but to start walking again. Either that or he’d throw her on the ground and ram his cock deep into her firm, round ass.

“I’m Michael Matheson.” He hoped she wouldn’t recognize the need in his tone. He could smell the beginning of fear wafting from her and hated himself for scaring her.
Take it easy. Don’t make her change her mind.

“I’m Sara Hutchinson.” She shot him a strange look. “It’s good to meet you, Michael.”

“We’re almost home now.” Yes, she was almost home, and he couldn’t wait for her to see it.

“Great. These boots weren’t made for walking, ya know.”

He liked her laugh. It reminded him of the wind chimes outside the kitchen window. Glancing down at the four-inch heels, he nodded. “I can see that. I’ll never understand why women wear those things.”

She laughed, making the light, airy sound again. “They’re supposed to make women’s legs look longer, but right now, I’d trade them for a good pair of running shoes.”

“Uh-huh.”
Keep moving. If I stop for too long, I might not be able to stop myself.

He picked up his pace again, feeling the wolf gnawing at the fringes of his control. He hurried, taking the dirt path that led from the roadway to the house. Even without a full moon, he could have seen the path clearly, but Sara would’ve needed a flashlight. She kept at his side, and he longed to reach out to keep her from falling whenever she stumbled over a rock, but he didn’t dare. The little touch they’d already shared had frayed his willpower too much.

After another mile on the path, he could see the lights of the house. He sniffed, picking up the scent of all the Night Runners—except Jimmy. Where the hell was he anyway? “There’s home.”

“Thank goodness. I guess you have a different definition of ‘almost home’ than I do.” She laughed again and gave him a brilliant smile. “I was about to give up.”

She stumbled again, and this time he did grab her, keeping her on her feet. The sexual surge of power between them sizzled under his skin. She pulled away, looked at her hand, then frowned.

So she noticed it, too.

She turned toward the two-story dwelling. “This is where you live?”

He was pleased at the awe in her tone. He and the pack had built the house with their own hands and he loved their home. The only thing missing was the alpha-female who would help grow the pack. He snuck a peek at Sara and knew they’d chosen well. All that was left was to convince her to become a werewolf and stay with the pack.

“
We
do.” He was up the steps with his hand on the front doorknob before he realized she wasn’t beside him. He cocked his head and sniffed, catching the fear swirling off her.

“We?” She stood, feet apart, looking like she was ready to fight—or run. “You mean you and your wife?”

“No wife. Just me and some friends of mine.” If he had to carry her inside, he would. But he hoped she’d sense she had nothing to fear from him. He opened the door and gestured for her to follow him inside.

Striding inside the home, he saw that the other men had cleaned the place. Gone were the beer bottles and newspapers. Gone were the empty pizza boxes and potato chip bags. At least she wasn’t walking into a pigsty.

Come on, Sara. Follow me.

He crossed over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of his favorite wine, uncorked it, and poured two glasses. Wine was one thing he loved almost as much as running with the pack. He took a sip and savored the rich, full flavor. Soon he heard her walk across the creaky wooden floor until she stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

Her eyes grew wide as she surveyed the home. “Wow. This is something.”

“Thanks. My friends and I built it.”

“You’re kidding. With your own hands? Your home is beautiful.”

He chuckled, letting her praise wash over him. “Our hands and more than a few power tools.”

She ran her palm over the hand-carved kitchen table. “You can tell this is a man’s place. It’s so rustic.”

Damn, he should’ve thought about that. He could have softened up the place a little. Added a few curtains, or throw pillows, or whatever it was women liked. Still, once she became theirs, she could change anything she wanted. “We could use a woman’s touch.”

She turned to face him and blushed. “Oh, I didn’t mean it as a criticism. I like it.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

He offered her the drink and she took it, swallowing most of it in one gulp. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth then blushed. “Sorry, but I needed a good drink. It’s been a long night.”

“I understand. Here, have another.”

She let him fill her goblet again. “I’m not much of a drinker. At least, not usually.” She glanced around then took another drink. “Uh, could I use your phone?”

He shot her a quizzical look. “Like I said earlier. I don’t have a phone.”

Surprise filtered onto her face along with a renewed dose of fear. “I guess I forgot.”

“I know it’s kind of strange not to have one, but we like the seclusion.” He needed to do something to put her at ease, but the only thing he could think of might be pushing her too hard, too fast. Still…

“Sure. I get it.” Yet she didn’t look like she did.

She drank more wine, her nerves showing. The drink took hold, rocking her on her feet, and she reached out to steady herself. “Uh-oh. The wine’s hitting me pretty fast and hard. Maybe I should go lie down.”

She scurried out of the kitchen and into the foyer, turning toward the stairway leading up to the second floor. “Crap. I forgot to bring my suitcase.”

“Don’t worry about it. One of my friends will get it for you. Until then, you can use one of my, um, sister’s nightgowns.” He strode over and took her arm. “Let me show you which room is yours.”

Simply touching her sent a flood of desire surging through him again and, for a moment, he couldn’t think straight. He gritted his teeth and studied the wall just to keep from looking at her. Could he hold on much longer? Especially once he saw her standing by the bed they’d made for her? The bed that would hold seven people?

He led her up the stairway to the first room on his right. The room they’d reserved for the alpha-female. He swung the door wide and escorted her inside.

An oversized, four-poster bed covered in a dark-blue comforter dominated the room while two large nightstands flanked either side. The large window let the light from the full moon spill into the room. Michael studied her as she ran her hands over a bedpost.

“What’s the matter, Sara?” Her name felt like music on his tongue.

Sara sat down on the edge of the bed and slid her hand over the comforter. “This bed reminds me of another bed.” She lifted her face to him, a confused expression making frown lines on her forehead. “I’ve never seen a bed this big before.”

If she’d actually spoken the words “except in my dreams” he couldn’t have heard them any clearer. “Yeah, it’s huge. But we like big beds.” God, how he wanted to push her back onto the bed, to rip off her clothes and pleasure her as he’d done in the dreams.

“Is it for a really large person?”

For lots of people. For the Night Runners and their alpha-female.
He didn’t bother answering, hoping she’d let the subject go. She’d understand later.

She started to say something more then clamped her mouth closed. Instead, she yawned. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought I was.”

“Sara.” He dared to sit beside her and felt his heart skip a beat when she didn’t move away. “Look at me.”