Awakened by the Wolf (14 page)

Dangerous, oh-so-dangerous. Despite her best effort, she couldn't continue to pretend that he meant nothing to her. She'd crashed that hurdle the first time she foolishly slipped inside his hospital room. After hours of watching over him during his darkest time, offering her touch to ease his pain, lending her voice to vanquish his nightmares, her heart simply refused to turn him out cold.

Earlier Brice had asked her to have faith in him. Right now, that's all she had, because following suit behind her heart, her mutinous legs refused to usurp his support to carry her away from the danger. With her arms banded around his sleek, muscled torso, she sighed her surrender against his chest.

He cradled her for the longest time. Patient, warm, understanding.

When he finally moved, his mouth christened her lips with a kiss, soft and wispy, like the fluttering of butterfly wings. There was a promise in the whispered touch. A promise to be kind and gentle. Never to expect more than she offered. Never to demand more than she could give. She might've considered the notion a wishful fantasy except for the deep-seated knowing in her spirit.

Surrendering to the need to taste more of him than a breeze, she captured his face between her palms and pulled him to her lips. His breath hitched. Then he crushed open her mouth. Lightning sparked at the point of contact and zipped through her body, a white-hot bolt of electricity that left no nerves, no cells uncharged. Fingers twisted in her hair, he tilted her head for a better, tighter seal. Spearing into her mouth, his tongue gentled when it met hers probing in soft darts.

He tasted like a storybook Christmas, sparkly, exciting and overwhelmingly wonderful. Her body quivered from the starburst of pure joy.

Brice deepened the kiss, his heat blanketing her in a snug comfort that made her feel safe, secure and anchored. She'd craved those things as a child and as a woman, they were her defining brass rings. If only for a moment, to know in his arms she had all three made her heart swell to near bursting.

She pressed closer, basking in his intimate warmth. Awareness threaded through her, sexual, decadent. Tingles became throbs in the most inconvenient places. Instead of concentrating on the kiss, her focus centered on her wet, clenching sex.

Air! She needed air.

Cassie tore away, her mouth separating from his with a wet smack. Brice's hard, fast breaths swirled around her. She wished the house wasn't too dark to see his expression. To see his eyes. She loved his eyes, how they sparkled when he teased, burned in an argument, brightened with curiosity, softened as he coaxed, and gleamed with feverish intensity when aroused, like now.

She knew he was because the hard evidence pressed against her abdomen. An arid heat whooshed across her skin. She would've broken out in a sweat if the moisture in her body hadn't pooled somewhere else.

No matter how many billions of years of evolution had passed, three things were certain. He was male, she was female and primal instinct was just that. Primal.

Cassie grabbed Brice's face and savaged his mouth, drawing a growl from the back of his throat and swallowing it. An animalistic fervor flooded her conscience. She rubbed against his body, clawed at his skin, wanting to get as close as she possibly could.

It wasn't enough. More, she needed more.

Fire erupted in her womb, its tendrils licking through her body, enflaming every cell. She couldn't imagine anything hotter than hellfire, but this was a close second.

Easy, Cas.

Brice's voice lilted through her thoughts, a gentle commanding beacon amidst the passionate maelstrom. She knew he hadn't spoken because their mouths were sealed around their dueling tongues.

He captured her wrists, pinning them behind her. Oh, she didn't like the absence of his muscles flexing beneath her strokes. Not. One. Bit.

Then he trailed his fingers leisurely up and down her spine. Her heated skin cooled upon the mighty invasion of delicious chills. She snuggled closer without trying to climb to his body.

The rhythm of his touch created a calming, centering wave that didn't douse her desire. It merely changed the tempo.

Their frenzied kiss became a series of softer, shorter ones until Brice drew back on a ragged breath.

“Good night, Sunshine,” he whispered hoarsely. His knuckles grazed her curls. Then he turned and left her standing in the dark, alone.

Stunned, all Cassie could do was stare into the empty space.

When she'd said she wanted to see his ass walking out the front door on the night he arrived, this was so not what she had in mind.

She trudged to the bedroom, irritation slicing through the adrenaline high to expose a raw nerve. Brice had done exactly what she needed him to do. Shut down her hormones before things escalated to a point of regret.

How noble.

She climbed into bed. Tomorrow she would be thankful he'd kept his head clear while hers overdosed on him, but right now... She grabbed his pillow and punched it with all her might. Oh, he was so lucky to have walked out that door.

Chapter 21

B
rice disconnected the Bluetooth call to his father and parked in a reserved space in front of a large roadhouse. A blue neon sign on the roof flashed TAYLOR'S.

“I'll wait,” Cassie mumbled. She'd been in an inhospitable mood all day, embarrassed by her behavior last night and stoked by a front-row view of the round-robin parade of women Mrs. Walker had arranged to meet Brice.

“You agreed to get a bite to eat with me.”

Only because as she'd started to say no she looked into his eyes. Big blue-and-green pools of kryptonite, that's what they were. Sucking every bit of willpower right out of her body.

“I thought we were going to a drive-through. I can't afford steak-house prices. Besides, I'm not that hungry.” Her stomach protested, obnoxiously loud and pitiful. She pressed her arm into her abdomen to quiet the traitor.

“Dinner is on me.” He leaned over to snuffle her hair.

A capricious heat flooded her body and fueled her bad mood. After the fool she'd made of herself last night, Cassie didn't want his lips anywhere near her body. She brushed him away. “I don't want your charity.”

“I'm not being charitable. I'm hungry and don't want to eat alone.” Brice netted her hand and took the liberty of another sniff.

“The parking lot is full. I'm sure someone will join you.” She reclaimed the appendage, which hummed from his touch.

Brice closed his eyes. His lips parted in a silent count. When he looked again at Cassie, his expression was perfectly clear of annoyance. She wished he'd teach her his Zen counting meditation. Being pissy was exhausting, and she didn't like it very much.

“What's wrong, Sunshine?”

“You.” She woodpeckered her finger into his bicep.

This was the first opportunity she'd had today to clear the air about what happened last night and establish rules to avoid a repeat.

“What, specifically, about me bothers you?”

“Let's start with last night's kiss.”

“It wasn't to your liking?” He ate his smile, but the flattened seam of his mouth continued to stretch and the corners hitched up, so obviously he wasn't trying very hard not to be amused.

“It was...okay.” She held her breath and schooled her features, hoping her expression portrayed unaffected boredom.

“Okay?” Brice's eyes flashed and his spine stiffened. Puffing his chest, he said, “It was a hell of a lot more than
okay
!”

Not the point, so she moved on.

“You walked out on me.”
Do you have any idea how that made me feel?

Confused. Frustrated. Embarrassed. Worst of all, abandoned.

The whole mess was her fault, really. Inexperience caused her to become overly excited. She could admit her blunder. Would have, in fact, if he had come home.

She expected him to be more upfront about the uncomfortable situation she'd created. Instead, he dodged and ran, the same tactic her mother had employed.

“Last night, I faced two choices. The first, walk away. The second, stay and let nature take its course.” He paused. “I didn't want to fail the first test of your trust.”

She suspected as much. What really hurt was that he didn't say that to her last night.

“You were sleeping when I came home.” Intense and purposeful, his gaze commanded her understanding. “You were exhausted, so I didn't wake you.”

Cassie's heart kicked an extra beat. “You weren't home when I got up for class. I thought you had stayed out all night.”

“With you snuggled in my bed? Never!” He winked.

A calm, cuddly, comfy feeling spread from the top of her curly head to the tips of her unpolished toes. She could get used to this toasty reaction.

Before the feel-good sensation soaked into her bones, a cold splash of reality passed in front of the truck. The trio of beautiful women had been among the throng of Brice's admirers today.

Dropping his shoulders, he leaned slightly forward on the steering wheel, eyes slitted. Despite the flare of his nostrils, his respiration slowed to an imperceptible breath as the lady wolves dressed in expensive-looking low-cut minidresses and spiky heels sashayed into the restaurant.

Cassie's gaze sank to her worn, baby-pink capris, plain white sandals and basic white three-quarter-sleeve cotton top with tiny golden studs framing the scoop neckline. Attire fit for a drive-through, not for clubbing. “If you'd rather eat with them...” She let her voice trail.

Brice's head swung toward her, his brows drawn together. “Then I wouldn't have asked you.”

His reassurance wasn't reassuring. He climbed out of the truck. She waited.

At the cabin, she needed his help getting into the raised vehicle, and she wasn't too proud for him to help her down, especially since falling flat on the asphalt was a likely outcome if she refused his Southern chivalry.

The door jerked open, and Brice's hands fastened on her waist. Little bites of electricity nipped her skin despite her clothing. Her nerves crackled and snapped with awareness.

Great, just great.

At least a table would provide a decent barrier for the next hour or so.

Brice lifted her from the seat and slid her down the length of his exquisitely tortuous body. By the time her feet touched the ground, the prickle throughout her body had converted to an expectant throb. The sandpapery feel of his cheek against her jaw as he scented her delighted Cassie's all-too-eager senses. She lifted her chin, giving him greater access.

“God, you smell good,” he breathed across her skin. The hot, wispy puffs evoked an involuntary shiver.

“Define
good
.” She leaned into his nuzzle.

“Like sunshine after a terrible storm,” he whispered.

Wow. The wildflower line at the hospital had been sweet, but this response caused her breath to catch in her throat. Brice hadn't simply given her a one-size-fits-all-women nickname. He gave her one with deep personal meaning.

He moved closer, eliminating the infinitesimal space between their bodies. Despite the August evening heat, her body curved into him out of pure conditioning. Sharing his bed and spooning every night wasn't much different from Pavlov's bell. Only Cassie didn't drool at the stimulus. She became wet in other places.

Get a grip!

Her arms slipped around his neck.

No, no, no! That's not what I meant.

The smile plumping her cheeks refused to give in to the frown her brain tried to force on her mouth. She needed to clear her head before she did something stupid.

At fourteen, Cassie briefly imagined what it would be like to step out of her hovel into Brice's world. Until her fairy godmother slapped her with a reality stick and screamed like a drill sergeant that Imogene Struthers's daughter was no freaking Cinderella. And if Cassie didn't have the good sense to keep her curly redhead out of the clouds, she'd end up just like her mother.

Sound advice Cassie intended to heed. She wouldn't allow her foolish heart to make decisions. It was too soft, too gullible. It would be too easily broken.

Brice's mouth hovered a hairbreadth from her lips. She dropped her hands to his chest and pushed him away.

“We're temporary roommates, nothing more.” She turned her face, causing his kiss to graze her ear.

He released a soft, frustrated groan. “We're so much more. I know you sense the connection.”

“It's called biology. A male and female in close proximity during a period of high emotions. You would have the same draw to any woman under the same circumstances.”

“I can say with certainty I wouldn't.” He pulled the loose band from her hair, tossed it on the seat, slipped his fingers through her hair.

“Maybe just curly redheads.” She batted his hands.

“One curly redhead in particular.”

Cassie slipped around him before he kissed her. “I've thought of more roommate rules. Touching, kissing or otherwise getting frisky is not permitted.”

Without a second's worth of hesitation, Brice said, “Agreed.”

“Really?” Her voice sounded more disappointed than relieved. Cassie clamped her arms across her chest.

“Absolutely.” A mischievous air broadened his wide, bright smile. “I'll pound any man into the ground who does those things to you.” Brice draped his arm over her shoulders and walked her up the steps of the restaurant. “You're mine, Cas. After dinner, I'll explain exactly what that means.”

A profound sense of Brice flooded her being in a wave of intense emotions. She'd felt the same rush years ago in his hospital room and blamed her imagination.

A kernel of hope bloomed. If she didn't find a way to strangle the menace before it took hold, it would spread like ivy and choke out her good sense. Good sense she seemed to have less and less of whenever Brice was around.

* * *

“I need to use the ladies' room.” The simmer in Cassie's eyes cooled.

“Just one more dance.” Brice rehooked Cassie's arms around his neck.

During their first dance, she'd been overly self-conscious, so Brice took her face into his hands and ordered her to block out everyone around them. To focus on him, then the music. Two songs later, she giggled when she misstepped, and her skin glowed. He wanted to believe the flush came from the excitement of being with him rather than the exertion.

That's how it was for him, at least. They could be doing yoga in an ice pond and his heart would pound, his skin would tingle and his cock would be just as hard.

In a matter of days, he'd grown to crave Cassie's company. Whenever he looked at her, a feeling of rightness settled in his bones. Her sharp wit and dry humor enchanted him, and that stubborn streak of hers fairly matched his own. Mostly he loved the warm, soft feel of her in his arms, especially when she wiggled against him in her sleep. Those unguarded moments were the highlights of his day.

Now that the music tempo slowed and he had the opportunity to hold her close, he wasn't about to let her run for cover. Savoring every second of the crazy, maddening feel of her in his arms, he sensed the tethers of the mate-bond stitching together their souls. He could have stayed entwined with her forever.

Except the song ended and Cassie pulled away. “Meet you at the table.”

Then she was gone.

“Cheer up.” Tristan Durrance slapped him on the back. “The lady only went to powder her nose. She hasn't left you at the pound.”

Brice stared into the face of his brother's best friend and swallowed bitter regret. He didn't care about titles or position. Only whether or not Tristan could forgive him for Mason's death.

Tristan draped his arm over Brice's shoulders, steering him to the booth. “I heard about Granny. You have my sympathies.”

Brice accepted the condolence with a quick nod.

“You know what happened to Rafe, right?” Tristan's happy-go-lucky expression faltered.

“I do now.” Even though Rafe insisted Brice's presence wouldn't have helped him get over the loss, Brice knew he'd failed his friend. “Adam didn't tell me when it happened. Among other things.”

“I figured as much. Hell, we all knew something wasn't right.” Tristan stretched his arm over the back of the booth. “You were in a bad state when Adam took you away.”

Though Tristan's soulful eyes fixed on him, Brice knew the older wolfan's other senses were scoping the increased bustle of the restaurant. A pack sentinel was always on duty, even when he wasn't.

“Mason's dead because of me. Everyone should hate me.” For chrissakes, Brice sure hated himself.

“Mason loved you more than anything. He would be proud of the way you fought and survived. We all are.” The sincerity in Tristan's tone mocked Brice's shame.

“I howled in a moment of weakness, and the rogues found us.”

“You almost lost your leg in a steel trap. I don't know any wolfan who wouldn't have howled. Your reaction was normal, Brice. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and give this pack what we want.”

A golf-ball-sized knot of tension formed at the base of Brice's skull. He'd brought Cassie to Taylor's to relax and have fun. Tristan's dose of reality put a damper on the evening.

“What does the pack want, Tristan?”

“You, home and happy. You are the heart of Walker's Run, and Mason took great care to foster you. Don't waste his efforts.”

“Foster me for what?”

“Gavin should've told you a long time ago.” Tristan's expression hardened. “Mason abdicated the Alphaship when you were born. You are and have always been our Alpha-in-Waiting.”

The words bounced in Brice's head like a box of Ping-Pong balls dumped on a game table. His head spun, and it wasn't from the two beers he'd drunk earlier. “Mason was eight when I was born. He wasn't old enough to abdicate.”

“Not officially, but your parents knew.” Tristan leaned his arms on the table, his hands relaxed and open. “Mason planned to tell you the day he took you hunting.”

How ironic for his brother to die on the day he planned to abdicate the Alphaship.

The timing of the revelation seemed too convenient, too orchestrated.

“My dad put you up to this.” Brice directed no anger toward Tristan. A sentinel had a duty to carry out the Alpha's wishes. Tristan had merely been ensnared in Brice's father's latest manipulation ploy. “What's he playing me for now?”

“This isn't an Alpha game.” Tristan's features sharpened. Baring his clenched teeth, he took on the look of a really pissed wolf. “You are our Alpha-in-Waiting. The future of the pack rests with you.”

“Maybe the pack should consider alternatives to the tradition of Alpha succession. Everyone says I'm more Foster than Walker.”

“Only in coloring.”

Brice's stomach, churning ever since Tristan had greeted him, precariously rolled and dipped. He laced his fingers behind his head to cradle his skull as he pointed his nose upward.