Season of the Wolf (BBW Holiday Romance) (5 page)

The sun was shining through one of the small windows by the fireplace when Priscilla woke the next morning. She was still tucked safely in her warm cocoon on the couch, the blanket pulled up to her nose. She realized there was no musky or dusty smell to any of the furnishings. Whoever owned the property took very good care of their possessions.

Before she could speak, Jason was at her side, looking down at her. She had a feeling he had been up for quite some time. She resisted the urge to smooth down her hair or check to see if she had a dried drool at the corner of her mouth. Had she snored?

“Good morning, Priscilla,” he murmured. Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed her with slow, deliberate, almost overwhelming intensity. His mouth was firm and hot and amazingly persuasive. Before she knew it, she was parting her lips and letting him inside. His tongue swept over her mouth, tracing the outline of her lip before tangling with her tongue. Her passion, long buried behind analytical thoughts burst to life as she clung to his wide shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders that felt like steel.

He pulled away slowly
.

She licked her lips, savoring th
e lingering taste of his mouth.

“That was the first step in wolf mating.
A good morning kiss for a mate.”

She pushed the tangled mess of hair from her eyes, trying to regain her senses. If this was a good morning kiss, she
couldn’t wait to find out what a goodbye kiss would be like. Her heart dropped, thinking that would be exactly what she’d receive once her study was completed.

Whoa, h
ad he said mate?
Before she could question him, he moved away, his golden skin seeming to shiver in the sunlight. The bump on the side of her head and her adventure through the snow must have shaken her up worse than she thought.

“I made us some breakfast.”

“W
hat time is it?”

He squatted by the fireplace and she heard the scrap of metal against metal
as he stoked the fire into a full blown blaze. “It’s a little before noon.”

“Noon?
I never sleep that long.” She pushed back the covers, and then hesitated, making sure she was still wearing the t-shirt he’d dressed her in last night.

“You were tired.” He was still on his hunches, retrieving something from the fireplace
. He rose and she saw he held a small black kettle. He must have heated their meal over the open flame. “Come. It’s time to eat.”

She gasped
as her feet touched the cold, wooden floor. Dang it was cold without her blankets.

“Wait a minute for the fire to warm the place up a bit.”
He’d placed the kettle of food on the hearth and brought over a pair of black crew socks.

“Has the snow stopped?”
she asked, unable to see out the windows from where she sat.

“No.” H
e squatted down in front of her, taking one of her feet and placing it on his thigh.

Priscilla resisted the urge to curl her toes into the warm, male flesh. The only covering on his thigh was the bottoms
he’d been wearing yesterday. “That doesn’t sound encouraging.”

He took her other
foot, quickly pulling a long black sock over that foot and up her ankle. Before he let her go, his hand slowly caressed her calf.

“It looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

She bit her lip realizing what that meant. Another day, maybe two isolated with a male wolf. She sighed, remembering what today was. Christmas Eve. She hadn’t wanted to intrude on Mary during the holidays but the woman had insisted. During their class together, Priscilla had grown fond of the other woman, telling her things she hadn’t shared with anyone else in a very long time.

Like
that fact that she was an orphan. Her mother and father had died when she was eighteen. Seven years ago. She had no living relatives as far as she knew. She’d already had one year of college under her belt when her parents had died and their deaths hadn’t changed her life that much. Her parents had been older when she was born and hadn’t missed her when she’d moved halfway around the country to attend an Ivy League school in the east. In fact, during her childhood, she’d gotten the impression she’d somehow disrupted their daily routine. That feeling had stayed with her all of her life.

She’d
spent the last seven Christmases by herself, watching
It’s A Wonderful Life
in black and white and eating a large slice of New York cheesecake, straight from the corner bakery. She’d accepted Mary’s invitation in a moment of weakness, wondering what it would feel like to celebrate the holiday with a real family, in a house full of people who loved and cared for one another.

She realized she had ruined Christmas
for Jason by her selfishness. If he hadn’t had to pick her up at the airport, he’d no doubt be in his own house getting ready to spend Christmas with his family.

Jason watched as Priscilla’s face fe
ll. Was she upset because she was going to have to spend time with him? In close quarters? No. That wasn’t it. She wore too sad of an expression to be concerned about a horny wolf. Immediately it hit Jason. Today was Christmas Eve. Shit.

“
I’m sorry you’re going to miss the holiday celebration, sweetlin’, but it’s not safe to try and reach my sister’s house.”

Priscilla
pulled her feet away from his lap, the endearment making her insides melt. This man was dangerous on so many levels. To her body, to her heart. “It’s safe for you to go, just not me.” She looked him square in the eye as she spoke. Her voice was solid and strong even though on the inside she was already crying. “Go spend the holiday with your family. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

It took a moment for Jason to register what she was saying.
She really believed he’d leave her, in a rustic cabin, on Christmas Eve, by herself.

“Not happening.” He picked her up and carried her t
o the rocking chair he’d pulled closer to the fire, enjoying her squeal of surprise.

The long-sleeved shirt
he’d found for her rode high on her thigh. If he hadn’t left on her panties, all her charms would have been revealed to his hungry eyes. She looked down right cute dressed in his clothes. Not as good with no clothes, but very, very cute and sexy. Flashes of her creamy white flesh as he’d undressed her last night bombarded his senses and his body had the natural reaction. He swelled in his pajama bottoms. He knew those moments would haunt him forever.

How much longer could he last without claiming her?

However long it takes, boy
. He whispered to his wolf. This was too important a time for his actions to be dictated by a hungry cock or a horny wolf. He had a mate to court. “Are you ready to eat?”

She looked up and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m okay.” Her reassurance
was ruined when her stomach growled. Her mouth lifted in a mischievous smile that made his heart do a somersault in his chest. “Or not.”

He pulled a blanket from the bed and tucked it around her legs.

Priscilla brushed her hands across the soft surface. “Would you happen to have another pair of long pants?” She felt vulnerable dressed in only a shirt and a pair of panties. She’d have to wash her bra and panties at some point and would feel even more uncomfortable knowing she was naked beneath her borrowed clothes. And he took to carrying her around all the time…

“No,” h
e said, a wide smile stretching his full lips.

What would they taste like she wondered?
What would
he
taste? All over?

“I’ll
trade you, though. My bottoms for your top.”

“
What?” She immediately visualized him wearing nothing but an unbuttoned shirt, his dick long and hard between his legs while she knelt before him, feeding it into her mouth.

“I figure it’s a win-win for both of us.”

“Where did you put my clothes?” Her face turned a bright fiery red. She really hadn’t wanted to ask that question because it reminded her quiet forcibly of the fact that he had undressed her last night. She’d been grateful to wake up and realize he’d left on her underwear and dressed her in a shirt. Although, she could have sworn she’d felt bare skin touching bare skin as he warmed her in front of the fire. She sighed. No doubt a lust induced hallucination.

“Your clothes didn’t fa
ir so good, sweetheart. I did the best I could, but I had to hang the jeans outside, they were starting to drip. Now they’re not much good for anything.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal.

Just great
, she moaned. Her jeans had been turned into a giant denim popsicle.

He
just smiled again and walked to the kitchen to retrieve two glass bowls and spoons. He sat the dishes on the hearth by the black kettle. “It’s not much, but it’s filling.”

As he spooned the
contents of the kettle into the bowls, she realized he’d cooked oatmeal. She grimaced. Not her favorite food, but beggars couldn’t be choosy. She gratefully accepted the still steaming bowl.

“Almost forgot,” he said, snapping his figures. He rose from his
crotched position in front of the fire, walking quickly back to the small kitchen area. Opening a cabinet, he grabbed a small plastic bottle. Her eyes brightened as she recognized the familiar bear shape.

“You found some honey.”

Jason loved the excitement lighting her eyes. One would think he’d handed her a diamond ring. “It’s a little old, but still good.”

Priscilla took the bottle gratefully and flipped the lid, eager to sweeten up her oatmeal. “I see what you mean,” she said. The top of the honey had already started to
crystalize and was a little difficult to get out, but it would still do the job of sweetening her oatmeal. She tried not to be greedy since she didn’t know how much food was available and how long it would have to last. After putting two small squirts in her bowl, she handed the container back to him.

He frowned. “Are you sure you got enough?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She stirred the honey into her oatmeal then took a bite. She couldn’t help the face she made.

He laughed. “You hate oatmeal, don’t you?”

“Maybe. Just a little.”

The
y ate in companionable silent. He was finished before she’d eaten half of hers. Had he given her more? He needed the calories more than she did. She still don’t know how he’d managed to carry her through the deep snow to the cabin. Yeah, he was a shifter, with shifter strength, but she was not a small girl by anyone’s standards. Holding out the bowl, she told him to take the rest.

He shook his head. “No. That’s yours.”

“But you gave me more,” she insisted still holding out the bowl.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Stop being stubborn, Priscilla
, and let me take care of you. Eat.”

When she
didn’t lower her arm, he sighed and took the bowl. But instead of finishing the still warm cereal, he moved closer and brought a spoonful to her mouth. “Eat.”

T
he look in his eyes memorized her and she’d opened her mouth before she realized what she was doing. It didn’t taste nearly as bad as it had before. Before she knew it, he was scrapping the last spoonful from the bowl. “You tricked me,” she accused.

“Nope.
Just distracted you.” He tapped her nose before he picked up his bowl and walked away. “And you were hungry.”

“Do we have cell phone reception?”

His movements stilled and he turned away from the sink where he was washing up the dishes. “Do you need to contact someone?” Damn it, was she involved with someone? His heart clenched and his wolf growled at the thought. He needed time to convince her she was his before they returned to the real world.

“No, but I thought
maybe we should call your sister and tell her what happened.”

Jason’s heart beat once again. “I called in to dispatch before we
abandoned the truck, remember?” He frowned as if concerned about her forgetfulness.

“Right.
I forgot.” Priscilla realized the memories of the night before were vague. She really only remembered the feel of his arms and the sense of safety that had given her.

“Do you want to call her?” Jason suddenly sensed
uneasiness about her. “We do have reception and my phone is still charged.” He hadn’t found a phone on her when he’d undressed her.

“No, that’s alright.”

He finished the dishes in silence then picked her up and put her back on the couch. This time she didn’t protest. “I can walk, you know.”

“I know.”
He sat her down on the couch then took a seat beside her, picking up her legs and twisting her body until they lay in his lap. His warm, calloused hands slid across her skin. “You’re cold,” he said. He made no move to cover her up with the blanket folded behind him. He just kept rubbing his hands up and down her legs. Was it her imagination or were his hands getting closer and closer to the hem of her shirt? It wasn’t very long to begin with.