Wolf Bite (11 page)

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Authors: Heather Long

BOOK: Wolf Bite
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God help her, he still thrust into her, his cock as hard and firm as if he hadn’t come and she could do nothing but hold on as he pounded furiously and she came again—as impossible as it all was. When he finally collapsed against her, she floated again, this time in a cloud of bliss.

Panting, he nuzzled her throat and she felt the soft stroke of his tongue tickling her neck. Gradually, she drifted back to earth. “Did you bite me?” Not that she minded. God, she really didn’t.
How weird is that?

“No.” Worry drenched the single syllable and he raised his head, coaxing her to turn her face with one finger against her chin. A thrill tingled over her spine as he stroked his finger down the spot she’d felt the sting at earlier. “No,” he said again, and sounded more certain this time.

“It’s okay,” she squeezed him, giving in to the need to comfort him. “I wouldn’t have minded if you had.” Control was important to dominants, and to Mason where she was concerned. That second thought joined the first in a hurry.

He continued to stroke her throat and a frown darkened his face.

“Hey,” she said, cupping his face. “No scowling. You
didn’t
bite me.” It didn’t even phase her that thought might have crossed his mind or that he’d been tempted. It took more than a passionate love nip to turn someone. That much she did know—and he
should.
Her words didn’t help. If anything, his expression grew fiercer.

Hooking her legs around his waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss—then very deliberately bit his lower lip. His gaze flipped from wolf to man to wolf with each blink and she smiled. “There you go, dumbass. Focus on the one you’re with.”

A hesitation, then his frown vanished. “Did you just call me a dumbass?”

“Uh huh. You give me wild, monkey orgasms then get all scowly faced about something you might have, but didn’t, do? Definitely a dumbass.”

He gave her a dirty look. “Monkey?”

Better.
“Monkey? Wolf? It’s all the same thing, right?”

Fisting her hair, he dragged her in for another kiss and poured his growl into her mouth. His cock went stiff against her leg. Already sensitive—and a little sore—her body caught fire for him all over again. When they finished, she didn’t know if she would ever move again. Propped on his elbows, Mason stared down at her. “Still think it’s the same thing?”

“No. Wolf lover, definitely not the same thing. Wolves are kings.” And she had no problem admitting it. His smug smile turned her heart upside down and she sighed. It was too soon to say the words aloud, but inside, she whispered them very, very quietly.
I love you.
“You’re king.”

 

 

Dawn kissed the Dallas skyline as Mason drove Lexi home. She fell asleep in the seat next to him, one hand possessively resting on his thigh. He hadn’t slept, though she’d dozed off on him a couple of times throughout the night. He’d offered to carry her back to the truck when it was time to go, but she’d walked and passed out as soon as he put the vehicle into drive.

Thankfully, so early on Saturday morning, traffic remained light on the arteries feeding into the city. Unfortunately, it meant he’d arrive back at her apartment all too soon.

Where I kiss her goodbye and send her up to bed.
Though, he could go up with her. Parking on the side streets was free. He could afford one more day. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Half-decided, he turned onto the block housing her building and scanned the street for a parking spot. A familiar scent screamed the presence of another wolf, and he focused, suddenly alert. Margo leaned against the same newspaper stand she had the first morning he’d left Alexis.

Time’s up.
Hackles rising, he bit off an oath and swallowed the urge to leave the truck and pound Margo into the pavement. She wasn’t his enemy. His wolf disagreed.
Yes she is.

Slowing at the front of the building, he parked in a no standing zone and put the truck into gear. Nudging Alexis, he pressed her keys into her hand. “Go on up. I need to go.”

“You have to work?” She stretched. A yawn swallowed the back half of the last word and she stared around blearily. “It’s way too early.”

“You can go back to bed. In your
apartment.
” Hating himself, he poured all of his dominance into the last sentence. Baring his claws and ripping his own beating heart from his chest would be less painful.

With a grunt of complaint, she squeezed his thigh. “I’m going, I’m going.” Her willingness to obey cut. It didn’t matter that she was too tired to offer resistance or that with Margo watching, it was better. He already missed Lexi and she hadn’t left the truck. “See you soon.” The last came out a mumble and she stumbled toward the doors of her building.

He stayed where he was, watching until she made it into the elevator. Putting the truck into gear, he drove around the corner and parked. The angle was perfect. He saw the curtains in front of Lexi’s patio doors poof for a moment, then relax. She’d made it into her apartment and, in all likelihood, stumbled straight into her bedroom and crawled into their bed.

The bed he’d put together for her. Not his any longer.

Exiting the truck, he braced himself and Margo didn’t disappoint. She charged toward him. Her steps were silent, but her temper was not. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He stuffed the rage surging up to answer her challenge down, but only because he deserved her anger. “You told me to look after her.”

Playing it stupid would only allow him a small amount of rope. She snorted. Not much at all. “
Watch
her, Clayborne.” Never a good sign when she used his last name. “
Watch
. Not interact. Not take her for a ride in your truck…” Her nostrils flared and her lip curled in disgust. “Not fuck her.”

“Watch your tone,” was all he said, but he didn’t keep the wolf from his eyes and, though her scowl deepened, she still couldn’t hold his gaze. “You told me to look after her. I did. Now you’re back…”

“And you can go.”

His wolf bucked inside, teeth baring, and Mason clenched his fists. “Yes, I can go.”
No!
The howl wanted out, but he kept it silent.

The Enforcer’s blink betrayed her surprise.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he pinned her under a hard look. “Are you done?”

Narrowing her eyes, Margo accepted the challenge in his and closed the distance. “Be very careful, Mason. I never pegged you for going rogue.”

She would never have pegged him for a lot of things, but he found he didn’t give a flying fuck what she thought or didn’t think. “Blah. Blah. Blah. I have work to do, so either challenge me and we’ll settle this or shut the fuck up and get out of my way.”

The air crackled with hostility, but Margo disappointed him when she withdrew a step. She actually shook her head and disapproval turned down the corners of her mouth. “I thought you might be ready to be an Enforcer.”

With a snort, Mason cut his hand through the air. “If I never saw one of your kind again, it would be too soon.” Cold dismissal hung off every word. No matter that rational thought told him it wasn’t Margo’s fault and that he should never have followed Lexi home that night—and that he should have left that first morning and never looked back when he did, he couldn’t quite get passed the rage that Margo’s presence meant he had no options.

Alexis was out of his reach and he had to go. If it were only his life? He would kill Margo, he would kill every one that came after them until they got the message. But it was not only his life that would be forfeit.

“In the future, Margo,” he spit the words out. “Be a stranger. Don’t ask me for another favor.”
Chances were, he’d never recover from this one. Then, he waited. With a final nod, Margo left first and he watched her until she disappeared around the corner. Forcing his gaze away from Lexi’s apartment, he jerked the truck door open and climbed back behind the wheel. Turning it on, he threw the vehicle into gear and left black rubber on the pavement.

He drove north, leaving the city behind, to wind further and further north and east to the small town of Finch in Collin County. Finch barely qualified as a town and he owned about five hundred acres with a mobile home parked square in the center of it.

Slamming out of his truck when he arrived, he stormed into the house and stopped. Throwing his head back, he finally let the wolf have his way and howled.

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Four days,. Alexis made it four days before she gave into the urge to cry. After their spectacular night at the lake, Mason dropped her off at her front door. He’d told her to go inside, and sleep. She’d been ready to pass out on her feet, so she’d listened.
Work
. He did construction, and even though it was Saturday, he probably had to work.

Since he’d spent the previous five days almost exclusively in her company, she couldn’t begrudge his job. But he didn’t return Saturday evening.

Or Sunday.

Monday when she left for work, she caught herself scanning the street for him.
Nothing
.

Tuesday evening, after working late, she traveled home on the same path that had gotten her mugged just the week before. No mugger.

No Mason. No calls. No messages.

It was Willow Bend all over again. He’d simply disappeared.

No, it’s worse than last time. At least then I knew where he had lived.
The DFW metroplex was huge—chances were he lived nowhere near downtown. Hell, he could live west of Fort Worth. How would she know? She’d opened a bottle of wine and considered drinking herself to oblivion, but it smelled off. The whole apartment smelled off.

No, it smells like Mason.
But he wasn’t there. She couldn’t bring herself to go into the bedroom. The scent of him clung to everything that room, or at least she imagined it did. Curled up on her chair, she pictured him sitting on the edge of her coffee table, or seated at the dining table—in her bed, in the shower. He’d invaded every part of her apartment.

Then he’d left.

Dampness splashed down to wet her hand. Hot, scalding tears slid down her face and she hated him—hated herself.
Thank God
I never said I love you.
At least she could salvage that miniscule piece of her pride. Wolves enjoyed their sensuality. Among their own kind, hot torrid affairs weren’t unheard of and, until they mated, the frisky bunch sated their needs easily.

Just as easily they moved on.

So, I scratched an itch.
Picking up her wine glass, she swirled the red around. Then put the glass down again as nausea threatened. God, she couldn’t even get a good drunk on. Her cell phone rang and she leapt to retrieve it from her purse. Ryan’s number showed on the screen.

No way would she manage to hide her misery, but she had to try. Swiping tears away, she sniffed, took a deep breath and pressed her thumb across the answer bar. “Hi Dad.”

A pause, then, “What’s wrong?” His deep voice rumbled over her. Even from thousands of miles away, comfort strung along the syllables spoken in his baritone.

Lie
. She needed to lie. Say nothing was wrong. Pass it off as hormones. “I managed to get my heart broken.” To her horror a fresh spate of tears slid down her face. “I had an affair. It was stupid. And now he’s gone.”

Silence. Then, “Did he hurt you?”

“Physically?” She curled back up on the sofa and dragged an afghan over her legs. Hot and cold kept flashing through her. Maybe she was getting sick.
Terrific.
She could add the flu to her list of miseries. “No Daddy. We—”
What had they done?
“We broke up.” Because what else could she call it? “Not that he promised me very much.”
Nothing, as a matter of fact
. “I guess I put more value on it than he did.”
A lot more.
 

“Then you are better off without him.” The simple, resolute assessment buoyed her and ripped her soul out in the same breath. “Would you like me to break his legs?”

The silken offer of violence in his civilized tone reminded her that although Ryan wore thousand dollar suits, negotiated million dollar deals, he was still a dangerous predator. He was also her dad. A giggle escaped amongst her tears and she sniffed, not even trying to hide it from him. “No, Daddy. I just feel stupid.”

“Hmm, why? Because you liked the sex?” And here she drew the line.

“I’m not going to talk about that sex with you. Really. Like—ever.” It would be a struggle to talk to her mother about it.

Undeterred, her father pressed on. “Was he that bad at it?”

“Oh my God! Dad!” Scandalized and heart-stricken in the same breath, laughter choked her sobs. “
So
not having the sex talk with you.”

“He must have been awful,” Ryan concluded. It must have been her imagination because instead of the anger she’d expected, he almost sounded…

“Dad?”

“Yes, darling girl?”

“Are you—laughing at me?” Never would she have accused him of cruelty.

“Of course not.” But then he chuckled. “Though I do admit I am relieved.”

“Relieved?”
What the fuck?
“You’re
relieved
because some guy broke my heart? What the hell, Dad?” Though the damnable tears continued to slide down her cheeks, anger welled up in her chest.

“Don’t be argumentative,” he said with a click of his teeth. “I want to tear the foolish boy limb from limb for hurting you…however, I am
relieved
that you could care about someone else enough to be hurt. I’ve been worried about you, baby girl. Worried for years.”

“What? Why?” Anger and grief made for poor companions and her stomach revolted. Swallowing back her gorge, she rose and padded into the kitchen. Wine was off the menu. Milk sounded nasty. Coffee. Ugh, no. She grabbed a bottle of water and twisted it open. It tasted like nirvana and she drained half of it like she was downing a hot shot of vodka.

When her father remained silent, she took a deep breath and said, “No, you need to explain that response because I’m sitting here actually crying to you and you’re saying you’re relieved. What. The. Hell?” With every word, her voice hardened until she nearly growled the last three. She should probably count to ten—or maybe a hundred—before he spoke to her father that way. He was a wolf, after all. She’d practically thrown down a gauntlet in challenge. But for the first time in years, she didn’t give a damn.

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