Your Wild Heart (12 page)
“How do you feel about starting your own family?” she asked, then bit her lip.
Wyatt’s brain stalled.
His own family.
A beautiful wife. A mate for life. Young ones to raise and play with in the yard. His heart warmed at the thought. “I’d never allowed myself to think much about it.” He added, “Until recently.”
“But you may want that? Some day?”
“Yes. I would.”
“And, uh, what would you want in a mate?”
He pulled her into his lap and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “She’d have to be smart, spirited, witty enough to keep me on my toes. And she’d have to enjoy the outdoors.”
She tipped her head to the side. “What? No physical requirements like big boobs or flaxen hair?”
“A beautiful heart is all that matters. That being said….” He ran his hand down the front of her shirt then slipped it beneath the hem so he could feel the softness of her skin. “It wouldn’t hurt if she were flexible enough to get into some of the Kama Sutra positions I’ve always wanted to try.”
Isabelle gave him a sultry smile. “Like the lotus blossom, perhaps?”
“Is that the one where you have your legs crossed in front of you?”
She nibbled the side of is his mouth. “Uh-huh.”
“Yeah. That would be good to try.”
Isabelle whispered. “I do a lot of yoga. Advanced yoga. So I’m pretty flexible.”
“I’m very glad to hear that.”
She put her hand on his chest and leaned away. “Let me ask you this. If you found the right woman, would you chase her all the way to Georgia to be with her?”
“I’d follow
you
through the gates of hell.”
Her smile lit up her face. “Good because Georgia does get pretty hot in the summer.”
He put every ounce of feeling he had into the kiss he gave her. She was his mate. He had to make her see how much he wanted her. How much he needed her in his life. Now that he’d found her, he wasn’t about to let her go.
She shivered in his arms. “Wyatt,” she murmured against his lips. “Take me inside.”
He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the door. Since neither of them wanted to let go and neither was willing to take their lips off the other, he fumbled with the latch and they stumbled inside. By the time they found the bed, they were laughing between kisses.
They fell onto the mattress, pulling at each other’s clothes. Their urgency made it harder to get the barriers out of the way so they could be skin to skin. He finally grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. That only inflamed her.
She wound her legs around his hips as she nipped at his chin.
“Dammit, Izzy,” he growled. His control was close to snapping and neither of them was naked. “You get me so worked up.”
“It’s only fair,” she murmured against his neck as she licked and kissed what she could reach.
He captured her lips and pressed her into the mattress. When he released her he said, “Okay, I’m going to let go so you can get your clothes off and I’ll get mine. Deal?” He kissed her again.
She grinned. “Deal.”
God, she was sexy with her hair awry and her cheeks flushed with passion.
“All right. Go.” He rolled off her and pulled his shirt over his head. He sent it sailing toward the end of the bed, then went to work on his jeans. In record time, he had everything pushed off, including his socks.
He turned to grab Isabelle, but she flung herself into his arms. Flesh met flesh and lips found lips. He rolled her beneath him and did his damnedest to gain some foothold in their coupling but Izzy was having none of that. She squirmed and caressed and fondled making him wild with need.
“Now, Wyatt. I need you inside of me.”
“Not until you come.”
He scooted down the mattress, leaving tiny bite marks as he went. When he reached the area he wanted, he pulled her knees up so her bent legs pressed against her belly. There, he had the perfect view of her pussy. The bright pink flesh dripped with her desire. Knowing she was ready and anxious for him heightened his need.
With no preamble, he buried his face in her heat and licked in earnest. At the first touch of his tongue, she gasped and grabbed at the sheets. He showed her no mercy. There was no teasing and no feathery touches. He wanted to hear her greedy whimpers and to feel her pulling at his hair begging for more.
Back and forth he worked his tongue over her clit. When he closed his lips around it and suckled, she grabbed his head and clamped down with her thighs. Finally, she went stiff and the muscles in her legs began to quiver.
“Oh God, Wyatt,” she cried.
The taste of her filled his mouth. He lapped it up as if it were the sweetest ambrosia.
She was still ridding the tidal wave of pleasure when he positioned his cock at her opening and sank into her. Her tight channel quivered around him, pushing him closer to the brink.
“Open your eyes, Izzy,” he demanded.
They were only slits, but he knew she had complied. “You are my mate. Accept me. Accept my Wolf. We accept you.”
He dropped the last of his mental barriers and opened his soul to her, praying she could and would accept his offering.
She gasped. “Wyatt.”
Awe replaced confusion as their mating bond snapped into place.
The warmth of her love filled that empty place in his heart. In return, he pushed everything he felt but had never been able to find words for to her through their newly formed connection. Her eyes widened then teared up with joy.
Mate
.
The word echoed in both of their minds.
Love me
, she whispered.
Always
, he declared, then proceeded to show her with his body how much.
“I’m surprised your mother recovered from her cold so fast,” Isabelle told Wyatt as they slipped out onto his patio, away from the crowd.
“Me, too. She took all the herbs Grandfather brought her and didn’t complain more than once. So I guess she really wanted to be here.”
“Dinner wouldn’t have been the same without her.” She grinned. “And wasn’t Lucy beautiful tonight? Her poor mother is going to have to beat the boys away with a stick before long.”
“That’s true.”
“It’s been wonderful getting to know Lucy. She is such a sweet young woman.” She steered Wyatt into a dark corner of the porch and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you for hosting the dinner tonight. I think it will be good if our two packs can form an alliance.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad your job allows you to work remotely and that you were able to stay.”
“You don’t mind that my dad showed up without warning?”
“It was a little uncomfortable that first morning. But I can’t say as I blame him.” He pulled Isabelle closer and nuzzled her neck. “If I were lucky enough to be blessed with a beautiful daughter, I’d do the same thing if she suddenly announced she’d found her mate.”
Her knees went weak, as they always did when he kissed her on that sensitive spot below her ear.
“Thank you for—” She gasped when he flicked a thumb across her breast. “For being so patient with him while he grilled you.”
He raised his head. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you said, though.”
She had trouble remembering her own name whenever he kissed her much less anything else. “What’s that?”
“That you owed me an evening of sensual delights to make up for your dad’s visit.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten. After Dad and his entourage leave, I plan to give you something to remember for a long while.” She pulled him down and sealed her promise with a kiss.
Thanks for reading Isabelle and Wyatt’s story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it.
If this is the first time you’ve picked up one of my books, thank you! I’m thrilled you did and I hope you’ll come back to my corner of the book store soon. Feel free to check out my other books at www.denagarson.com.
We have many stories in the Black Hills Wolves collection now. There’s bound to be something for everyone so be sure to pick up another and try a new author. You never know - you might find a new favorite.
Hugs!
Dena
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Chapter One
Patch Williams didn’t believe in fate, true love, or the possibility her shift would end before her patience snapped. Tapping her fingertips on the counter, she mentally counted to ten before answering the elderly customer glaring at her from across the space provided by the glass surface. She hated this time of year due to their annual visits alone. “No, seriously, it really is fifty cents, and I can’t go lower.”
“Bah. This is a used purse. You’ll be lucky if someone gives you a quarter.” The old woman pushed the bag across the counter before spinning on one orthopedic shoe to head to the door on a wave of outraged indignity. “Come along, Darcy. We’re not giving money to
her
kind anyway.”
Her kind? And what kind is do you mean? The kind not willing to give away the stock for free? Or maybe the kind that bathes more than once a month? Oh, I know…the kind who could eat you if the mood took me
.
Blowing out a breath, Patch closed her eyes and struggled with her annoyance as the two matronly women exited the building arm in arm. A Friday at the beginning of the month always meant some of the older people from the surrounding hills found their way down off whatever parts of the mountains they lived on—most from tiny, isolated cabins, unchanged since their ancestors came to the Wild West in search of whatever piece of land they might claim—to garner supplies, catch up with neighbors, and harass shopkeepers.
Although she recognized it for what it was—the coming snows meant they’d not be down the mountain for who knew how long, if ever, since some of them might not make it through the winter—it didn’t help her patience with them. Picking up the “used” brown purse and returning it to the rack—
fifty cents for Coach and the woman expects me to go down on the price?
—Patch rubbed her temples and headed to the rear of her shop.
She loved pretty things, old things, things that carried a story with each stitch or tarnish, but elderly humans were a different story. Something about the way they’d swat at her, disregard her, underestimate her…it just pushed her buttons in all the wrong ways. Behind the curtain, she stroked the leather mask she’d laid out earlier. Tonight, she would go to her club, play, and escape from the mundane world for a moment. For at least a little while, she wouldn’t be Patch, least important member of the pack and smiling customer service representative. She’d be something more. Something sexy and desired….
She sometimes feared what the pack would do if they ever discovered the full truth of her forays or caught a sniff of what she did at the private club, but not enough to stop going. As a submissive Wolf, she respected and obeyed the dictates she’d been given, even when they’d been led by a sadistic bastard, but none of it meant she had to
enjoy
obeying. It did mean she was wired to follow their directions, but….
What the Alpha didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.
Besides, with Ryker distracted by his new mate and Drew busy trying to keep everyone else in order, who had time to bother with a little nobody like her? The leather felt supple under her fingertips, and she wished she dared more trips to the dungeon. Her appetites never seemed sated, hadn’t for a long time. Humans were fun—they knew how to have a good time, how to make her body arch in pleasure, and when she needed a firm smack to her ass to take her to the next level—but a part of her longed for more. Especially since her pack mates had started pairing off, one by one drawn into the lure of mating. Sure, she might wish for a man who understood her and loved her…even if every Wolf she’d ever met would be disgusted by the stuff she liked in the sack.
Annoyed with her own woolgathering, she shoved aside the curtain to return to the front. Since the bell hadn’t rung, Gee standing in her shop should have sent her heart racing….
If he’d been outside, perhaps he would have been able to hide the wild, gamey scent of bear. But closed inside a building? It reeked of bear when he visited. She’d smelled him the moment he walked in. “Hiya, Gee. What can I do for you?”
She hoped her smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. Although her words were the practiced, friendly banter of a salesperson, she couldn’t quite force herself to meet his eyes.
What is the purpose of being a Wolf if I don’t have a scrap of claw?
“Don’t leave town tonight.” Gee often played the part of the somewhat vague and mysterious oracle, but he usually saved that kind of shit for in his bar. Coming all the way down the street to the consignment shop to rattle off doom and gloom was beyond strange.
“I hadn’t planned on going anywhere new.” It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. She hadn’t said she planned to disobey him. However, she hadn’t agreed to his dictate either.