Taming Heather [Cariboo Lunewulf 1] (8 page)

Her heart skipped a beat.

She couldn’t have asked for a better occasion to be taken to. The fact that Marc had offered, wanted her to see how they lived, was almost too good to be true. It hurt that he called her article trash, but she should have expected that. She was writing about his people from a human perspective. Of course there were areas she needed to tighten up, but she hoped tonight would give her that extra punch she felt her article needed.

“Marc. There you are.” A young man entered from another room, a smaller version of Marc, and she guessed, one of his brothers. “And this must be the date you mentioned.”

Then the man paused, looking at her, his smile fading. He glanced from her, to Marc, and wrinkled his brow. Heather licked her lips, something akin to panic rushing through her.

Marc took her hand, and the man lowered his gaze, watching the act.

“Stone, this is Heather Graham. Be nice and say hi.” There was a warning in his tone she didn’t miss.

“You could have told us you were bringing a human.” Stone gave her the once-over, his brow wrinkling under blond bangs that fell almost to his eyes. “Come on in though. Hope you like your meat rare.”

Stone turned without another word, his muscular stance probably quite a turn-on with women his age. He wore a white muscle T-shirt that tucked into faded blue jeans. Worn cowboy boots finished the ensemble. It was obvious he and Marc were brothers, the family resemblance very noticeable. She felt like a midget next to these blond giants.

Marc let go of her hand, placing his hand on her lower back, and gave her a gentle push. His touch was protective though, and she found herself not wanting him to take his hand off of her when they followed the young man, Stone—what kind of name was that?—into the kitchen.

A handful of people, in the middle of laughing, all paused and gave her their full attention when she and Marc joined them.

“Everyone, this is Heather. Play nice, or else.”

Damn it. He had to warn them to be nice to her?

Heather stared around at the cluttered kitchen, full with a handful of people who all stopped what they were doing to give her their undivided attention. Never had she felt more exposed in all of her life.

They all looked like normal people. And if Marc hadn’t told her beforehand, she wouldn’t have known any of them were werewolves.

Four men and three women, ranging in age from college to a bit older than she, all gave her a curious once-over. The oldest-looking woman, a lady about her age who was damned good-looking, was the first to move. Stepping forward, she stuck out her hand.

“Well, any friend of Marc’s is a friend of ours.” The woman’s smile seemed friendly enough. She wore a fair amount of makeup and sported a blue denim miniskirt, loose-fitting blouse, and black hose with flat boots. “I’m Simone. Welcome to the McAllister den.”

With that, the woman nudged the younger man next to her, who jumped, as if he’d just remembered it was his turn to speak.

“Yeah, welcome.” He took his turn shaking her hand. His grip was firm, but his hand a lot cooler than the woman’s. “I’m Gabe, Marc’s brother. Sorry we’re a bit stunned. We don’t get many humans out this way.”

Again Marc pulled her to him, making a silent statement that they were definitely a date that night. Heather didn’t miss the curiosity that swarmed on all of their faces. It wasn’t too surprising. If she’d taken him out with her, and introduced him as a werewolf, it would stupefy her friends.

She straightened, hoping they would see she could carry her own weight. “And it’s not every day I enter a house full of werewolves,” she said, grinning at Gabe.

Gabe gave her a sincere smile in return. She guessed he was probably in his mid-twenties, a little bit more of a redhead than his brothers, although streaks of blond were visible. His hair was longer, falling past the collar of his plaid shirt, which was unbuttoned halfway down a massive chest that was thick with hair. The shirt was untucked, hanging over worn jeans that showed off long, muscular legs. He too wore worn cowboy boots.

Dear Lord. The McAllister men were sexy as hell. She imagined Marc’s younger brothers were probably at least as unruly as he was. Their mother must have been a saint to deal with these three.

“Heather, this is Rock, Simone’s mate,” Marc said, pointing out a man who stood as tall as Marc, and didn’t smile or offer his hand, but simply nodded at her.

She didn’t catch the names of the younger women, who giggled through their introductions, and were obviously more interested in Marc’s brothers than they were her. When Gabe, who was obviously the one with manners in the room, introduced the older guy who leaned against the counter, he was introduced to Marc as well as her.

“Bastien Rousseau just came back from overseas,” Gabe explained, his attention on Marc. “Rock here was telling him that he might have work for him out on his ranch.”

The conversation picked back up with talk about work, and Heather slowly relaxed, although found herself hovering close to Marc. Between Marc and his brothers, as well as the quiet werewolf, Rock, she felt like she was in a room of giants. Bastien was a lot smaller than the other men, slim-built, but uninhibited by his size.

Once again the kitchen filled with lots of laughter and conversation, and she felt like she’d been forgotten.

Stone said something about checking on the meat out back, and Marc turned to her, giving her a wink, and then left her standing in the kitchen with the other women when he left through sliding glass doors into the darkness of the night outside.

The college girls whispered and giggled amongst themselves, and then left in a huddle to follow the men, leaving her alone with the way too pretty Simone who crossed her arms and focused a serious gaze on her.

Heather straightened, feeling she was getting ready for a showdown.

“I’m not sure what you think you’re doing getting involved with a
Cariboo
. But most
lunewulf
can’t handle them. I know a human can’t.” Simone spoke so casually her words almost didn’t sound insulting.

Heather decided the best approach here would be honesty.

She straightened. “I’m a reporter, working on an article about werewolves. Marc offered to bring me out here to learn more about you.”

Simone raised an eyebrow, her thoughts on the matter not clear by her expression. “Beer?” she asked.

“That would be nice.”

Simone pulled a bottle from the refrigerator, and then brought the cap to her mouth. Heather watched in awe as Simone’s front teeth grew longer, and she pulled the cap free from the bottle, then spat it into the trash can. She handed the bottle to Heather.

No way in hell would this woman intimidate her.

Heather took the bottle, nodding her thanks, and took a long gulp.

“Neat trick,” she said, unable to keep herself from glancing outside where the men were.

Simone crossed her arms over her chest, her look intent as if she was about to do the interviewing. “So your interests in Marc are purely professional.”

“I’m a reporter. My entire life is purely professional.” Commenting that she was more than aware that Marc was sexy as hell seemed pointless.

Simone shook her head. “You’re in over your head, darlin’,” she said, sounding apologetic. “Do you even know the difference between
Cariboo
and
lunewulf
?”

Heather chewed her lip. She’d heard there were different breeds of werewolves, but decided picking this woman’s brain wouldn’t hurt.

“Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Those men out there are
Cariboo
. All except Bastien. They are wild, untameable, and very, very aggressive.” She let her gaze run down Heather. “You wouldn’t last one night with him.”

Heather took another drink of her beer, suddenly very thirsty. Thoughts of how he’d pulled her away from her friends earlier came to mind. Marc took what he wanted, that much was clear. She had a feeling she would find out soon enough what a night with him would be like. The thought made the room way too warm.

“You might be right.”

“I know I am.”

“Well then, maybe I should just go an hour with him at first.”

Simone simply stared at her for a minute, and then broke out laughing, a deep, almost husky sound. “You’re okay, girl,” she said, giving Heather a slap on the back. “But I doubt he’d let you go after just an hour.”

“Damn.” Heather looked toward the sliding glass door again, the men’s voices loud and boisterous outside.

Without warning, the glass door slid open quickly, the rich smell of barbeque filling the room as the men paraded in.

“Care to share in our kill?” Stone asked her, his teeth longer than they should be as he ripped part of a steak off in his mouth and chewed greedily while grinning at her.

They ended up outside, eating steak which most of them simply held in their hands, chewing at greedily. She was grateful when Marc found a plate and fork and steak knife for her, and gave her a not quite so rare piece.

Hardly any meat was left by the time they’d finished—an entire deer had been successfully eaten. And Heather had to admit, the steaks and beer hit the spot. She watched with a bit of caution when Gabe and Stone went at it in the backyard, or rather untamed land outside the cabin. The surroundings fit the McAllister men perfectly.

She jumped when Rock leapt at the two men, and threw Stone halfway across the open area, before thick trees started.

“Don’t let him bully you, Stone,” Simone cheered them on.

Stone came back at them, his clothes ripping when his body began changing. Heather realized she’d taken a step backwards and into Marc’s arms when the men changed, and suddenly three very large and dangerous werewolves growled at each other in the night.

“They’re just having a bit of fun,” Marc whispered, his hands snaking around her waist while he nipped at her neck.

The smell of beer on his breath and the way his hands came dangerously close to her breasts, reminded her of the words Simone said earlier. The night air no longer seemed as chilly.

Her mouth went dry though when Simone ripped off her shirt, displaying two very large and perfectly shaped breasts. She turned and grinned a toothy grin at them.

“You going to run with us, Marc? Or stay here and fuck her?” Her voice garbled as she spoke, her body slowly changing as she stripped off her skirt and stockings.

Heather realized at that moment that this was the life of a werewolf. At night they ran under the stars, enjoying the freedom of freeing the beast within them. She could only imagine if she encouraged Marc to stay with her, all that pent-up energy might be used on her. Thoughts of how rough he might be fucking her made her body boil with need. But she wouldn’t deprive him of being who he was.

“Go run with them,” she whispered, turning her head so she could look up at him. “I’ll wait for you here.”

His blue eyes glowed with silver. Marc was so huge, so muscular and hard. His cock sprang to life while he looked down at her. It pressed against her backside, a promise of what she could have later. He slipped his hand inside the back of her leggings, his skin rough and hot as he cupped her bare ass.

“Yes. You will wait for me. Your education has barely started.” He turned her around, his hand sliding from her ass to her front and he cupped her shaved pussy. “Fucking shit, woman,” he growled, and then nipped at her lip when he pulled her to him.

His cock was rock-hard, eager and determined and she about came on his hand when he thrust a finger deep inside her.

As quickly as he’d grabbed her, he pushed her to arm’s length and let go of her. His expression bordered on dangerous while he stared at her, never looking away while he removed his clothes.

Heather couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Seeing him naked again, when he’d just had his finger deep in her cunt, made her world spin around her. When he stripped out of his jeans, his cock appeared twice the size it had been the last time she’d seen him naked. Hard and swollen, it jutted out toward her, looking as demanding and determined as the rest of him.

Suddenly her mouth was too wet, thoughts of what he could do to her with that making her weak in the knees. Her blood pulsed so hard through her that her ears rang, and she wished for somewhere to sit, something to hold onto. Anything to stabilize herself while she gawked at the incredibly sexy man who stood before her.

And then slowly, never taking his gaze from her, he began to change. His body transformed, shoulders altering, fur appearing over his skin, his body contorting. She saw his facial muscles harden and wondered if the change hurt him.

In the next instant he fell to all fours, making her jump when he let out a powerful howl.

“Holy shit!” she screamed when he leapt over her.

Her heart about exploded in her chest and she turned in time to see him leap after the others, and disappear into the trees beyond the yard.

Heather was left alone, stranded at a small cabin outside of town.

Chapter Seven

Marc tore at the earth, his powerful claws ripping the ground without mercy as he raced across the open field with the others. Letting go, pushing himself as hard as he could, feeling his muscles strain at the pace they kept, felt damned good.