Awakened by the Wolf (22 page)

Brice smiled that heart-stopping, soul-tingling smile and kissed her. Slowly, deeply until she was lost in the sensation of his mouth, his skin, his very presence.

When he moved, the rhythm was slow, unhurried. She arched to welcome each thrust, clenching to hold him deep inside.

Cassie had read about how the experience would feel. Even Imogene had explained the mechanics of intercourse.

Despite all that, Cassie wasn't prepared for the rush of emotion. To experience Brice so profoundly, she could only describe the sensation as a union of their essences. Sharing breaths, sharing bodies, sharing souls.

Soon a sinful pressure built inside her at the crux where they joined. He thrust harder, faster, deeper, lost in the moment.

She was lost, too. Lost in the strength and passion of this man, pouring his all into her, bringing her to the highest pinnacle of ecstasy until she splintered. In that rapturous moment, Brice slipped further inside Cassie's heart. To the most tender, most vulnerable, most untouched part. And opened her to the very thing that would break her.

Love.

Imogene had warned her to stay away from him. In fact, when Cassie had told her about finding Brice's hospital room, her mother had insisted that Cassie keep away from all men or suffer her fate. Cassie knew good advice when she heard it, but Brice made her mother's wisdom difficult to heed.

Eyes hooded, he stilled. Cassie simply stared, knowing that no man would touch her as deeply or completely as Brice Walker.

Bold assertions for a freshly deflowered virgin. Yet she knew it to be true because she would never give her heart to another man. It had foolishly bared its fragility to the one whose ultimate rejection would smash it into irreparable pieces. If she allowed it.

She wouldn't wallow in self-pity, though. She would be grateful for what they shared.

Brice rubbed his nose against her cheek. “No regrets?”

“Absolutely none,” she said, pulling herself back into the moment of experiencing something spectacular. “How could I regret making love for the first time, with you, under the stars, next to this beautiful river? It was all so natural. Nothing orchestrated. Nothing fancy. Just simple and—”

“Fucking amazing.” The excited hitch in his breathing and his wide-eyed delight said Brice didn't have any regrets, either.

Yet.

Chapter 33

B
rice had known human desire. Knew the wolfan lust a full moon provoked. But he didn't know
this
—a want so sharp it stabbed his heart. An excruciating need to fill and be filled that wrenched his soul.

He smiled at the soft streams of sunlight streaked across the face of his sleeping beauty. Coppery eyelashes dusted her delicate cheeks. Masses of curls sprawled over the pillow, and her small hand lay tucked beneath her chin.

All night he'd fought the urge to claim her during each exquisite coupling. Never had he wanted a woman so intensely, so frequently, that he sought the experience again and again and again until they fell into an exhausted sleep.

Cassie had responded to his every touch and at the precipice of each orgasmic triumph, her soul beckoned his. Still, he'd held back claiming her because she opened herself to him only sexually. She wasn't ready for a mateship. Her will was too ingrained to trust her heart to him.

He'd taken all that she had offered and was grateful.

Last night, he'd teetered on the edge of giving up. This morning, he was thankful not to have had the opportunity to do so.

Cassie's eyelids fluttered open on a sigh.

Brice's face ached from the broad smile he proudly wore when she looked at him.

“Morning, Sunshine.” The musky scent from their night of coupling filled his lungs, filtered through his body and nestled deep in his core.

She didn't turn away from him embarrassed or scurry from the bed. Instead, she returned his smile and his greeting with a husky, “Morning.”

Her skin glowed and his ego grew, knowing he had pleased her well. He looked forward to repeating the performance once they made it through today.

“What time is it?” Cassie yawned.

“Time to get dressed.” The past few days he'd avoided dwelling on his grandmother's death. Now the inevitableness of his final goodbyes had come.

“You'll get through this.” Cassie slid her arms around his neck.

Their bodies melded in a tender embrace. Though tapped out and fully sated, he tingled from the contact. He loved the feel of her against him. She was soft and delicate, while he was hard and scarred.

He nipped her ear, smelling his scent on her skin.

Mine!

“I'll jump in the shower first.” She nudged him.

“We could shower together.”

“Not a good idea.” She kissed his cheek, and Brice allowed her to roll out of his arms.

Cassie pulled on his baseball jersey.

“I've seen you naked,” he teased.

“I'm not as accustomed to prancing around in the nude as you are.”

“You can practice. I won't complain.” Propping on his elbows, Brice waggled his eyebrows.

“Next time.” Her eyes didn't smile when she did.

Brice felt a pinch in his chest. “Cas?” he called out as she strode down the hallway. “Is something wrong?”

“Just a little sad,” she answered, closing the bathroom door.

Brice pulled on cutoff sweats, more out of recent habit than anything else, and padded barefoot into the kitchen. The coffee in the carafe of the automatic maker had grown tepid, so he warmed it in the microwave and considered making breakfast. However, if Cassie's dread of the coming task was similar to his, neither could stomach eating.

The red blinking light on the answering machine caught his attention. Brice's finger hovered over the Play button. The message probably wasn't for him. Anyone needing to reach him would call his cell.

If the message was for Cassie, Brice didn't want to pry, though he did wonder who had called. She claimed not to have friends. Yet Hannah had expressed concern for her, and Shane had nearly challenged him over her well-being.

Jealousy ruffled Brice's mettle. How close was Cassie to the pack outsider? Did Shane want something more? Had Brice's sudden appearance interrupted something between them?

Brice rolled his shoulders. Cassie was
his
mate. Not Shane's or anyone else's.

Of course, Brice could just play the message. What would be the harm in that?

The pad of his index finger rested on the silver button.

Embarking on a committed relationship meant showing Cassie respect. He didn't need to manage every little detail of her life. She wouldn't appreciate his interference and frankly, he didn't want that kind of mateship. He wanted one built on trust.

* * *

Careful to avoid the guilty disapproval of her reflection, Cassie dried her hair. She ached for more than one night of Brice's lovemaking, and if she wasn't careful, she just might lull herself into believing it was possible.

But one more night would lead to another. And another and another until she forgot that Brice wasn't her Prince Charming. Then, when his real princess appeared, he'd turn Cassie out without any further consideration.

Still, she was thankful Brice hadn't heard the message her new roommates had left. While he showered, Cassie called them back. So excited about meeting her, Cassie's roommates wanted her to come today. After explaining that she had a prior commitment, Cassie agreed to move in tomorrow.

In the morning, she'd explain to Brice her plans to finish the semester in campus housing. He wouldn't be happy, but it was for the best.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she viewed her reflection long enough to apply face powder and lip gloss. She grimaced at the bruises on her neck. Instead of miraculously fading, like she'd prayed, they'd turned darker and uglier. She dusted a light coat of powder over them. Unfortunately, the makeup failed as an effective camouflage.

In the midst of yesterday's turmoil, she'd forgotten to wash the dirty, sweaty, faded scarf. In its present condition, that scrap would be more noticeable than the bruises, and Cassie didn't want to attract unwanted attention at Margaret's memorial. Maybe if she sat in the back, no one would notice her or the hideous marks.

Brice strode into the bedroom, wearing a towel around his hips and a serious frown on his face.

“You know—” she pointed at his groin “—I've seen you naked.”

That brought a flicker of life to his lips. His unhurried gaze traveled over her. One brow shot up. “You're wearing that?”

“Something wrong with my dress?” Cassie pulled at the fabric, checking for stains or holes she might have missed.

Brice's puzzled expression was almost comical. “It's yellow. Don't people wear black to a funeral?”

“Margaret loved bright, happy colors.” Cassie smoothed the waist of her simple summer dress. “I'm wearing this for her.”

“You're amazing, Sunshine.” Brice hugged her, and Cassie smelled her cherry-scented body wash on his skin.

He kissed the top of her head and Cassie felt the vibration of it in the soles of her feet, which were planted solidly on the floor. She checked to be sure, because she had the sensation of floating on air.

“Come with me.” Brice led her into Margaret's bedroom.

They navigated around the boxes his uncle had delivered from Brice's penthouse and walked over to one of the four rolling garment racks. Cassie's mouth fell open. She'd seen this many clothes only inside a department store.

“You should wear black,” she said in a gentle tone when he picked out a dark blue suit. “People have certain expectations of you.”

“I don't care.” He opened a rectangular box that contained at least three dozen silk handkerchiefs. He selected one the exact shade of Cassie's dress. “Perfect.”

His broad smile faltered as his gaze fell to the hand Cassie held against her throat. He shuffled around the boxes to Margaret's dresser.

“What are you looking for?” Cassie watched him open and close drawers.

“These.” He pulled out a fistful of scarves. “I didn't remember them yesterday. You know my brain doesn't function well until I've had my first cup of coffee.”

He dumped the colorful neckwear across the bed. “You don't need to be ashamed of those bruises, Cas. But if you're more comfortable with them covered, maybe one of these will help.”

Cassie sorted through the collection. “I didn't know Margaret had these.”

“She used to wear them to church when I was a little boy.” Brice scratched his head. “I hope they're still in fashion.”

Cassie picked two that would complement her dress without drawing attention to her: a white gauze scarf with a featherweight viscose texture and a silky one with a peach abstract pattern.

“I like this one.” Brice fingered the vibrant indigo flowers on a pale blue pashmina.

“It's lovely.” Cassie worked it gingerly around her throat. “No one will mind if I borrow it?”

“They're yours now.” The vividness of his gaze dimmed. “Granny would've wanted you to have them.”

Cassie's chest ached. She'd lost so much in the span of week. The trailer—her home for ten years. Her car. Soon, her job. And most of all, the woman to whom Cassie owed so much.

Margaret Walker was gone, and she'd left a big hole in Cassie's heart. Brice's kindness made the hole bigger. Cassie needed to plug the breach before she lost any more of herself.

* * *

Thank God Brice hadn't suggested driving his horrifyingly expensive car. He helped her out of the truck.

“You are so beautiful, Sunshine.” He kissed her, soft and sweet.

Cassie tasted the longing. Hers? His? She couldn't tell.

He drew back. His hesitant eyes reflected a vulnerability that she doubted anyone else would notice.

She took his hand, wanting to be strong because Brice needed her to be. “You're as handsome as sin, Mr. Walker.”

Tucking her arm beneath his, they walked inside the church. The greeter directed them to the area off to the side, where Brice's parents and a few other people were gathered.

“You should be with your family,” Cassie said. “I'll meet you after the service.”

“We'll sit together.” Brice's tightened his hold on her arm. “Granny considered you family. She wouldn't want you to sit alone, and neither do I.” Grief wore through his ruggedly handsome face. His full mouth, devoid of a smile, pulled tight from the stress.

“Oh, all right.” Cassie swallowed the sting in her throat and offered Brice an encouraging smile. “Do you want to stand with your parents to greet the guests?”

Brice shook his head. His eyes gravitated to the table at the front of the sanctuary, where a rainbow spray of wildflowers rested behind a silver urn. The natural fluidity of Brice's movements faltered and his limp became more pronounced the closer they came to the first pew. She stroked his arm and offered soft reassurances while ignoring the increased whisperings as they passed each row.

When they sat down, both breathed again. Brice slid his arm over her shoulders and tipped his head to hers. He closed his eyes and swallowed.

Maybe he was counting. Or maybe he was trying not to throw up, which is what Cassie wanted to do.

Brice stood as his parents approached. Not knowing what the proper etiquette was, Cassie stood, too.

Stiff-armed, Brice hugged his mother, whose strained, pale face and red, swollen eyes were a harsh contrast to her usual elegance. He shook his father's hand, though neither spoke.

“I'm very sorry for your loss,” Cassie said softly over the grapefruit-sized lump in her throat.

Abigail Walker stared at Cassie's extended hand. Maybe it wasn't appropriate to handshake at a funeral. She was just about to drop her hand when Brice's mother accepted the greeting.

“Thank you, Cassie.” Abigail Walker sat down without meeting Cassie's gaze.

The angles in Gavin's face appeared sharper than Cassie had ever seen them, so she found it difficult to gauge his reaction to her presence. She offered her heartfelt condolences. No matter his opinion of her, Cassie knew how it felt to lose a mother.

Gavin enclosed her hand in his two large palms. “Thank you for coming,” he said in a gruff voice.

Brice squeezed her elbow, extracting her from his father's grip. Cassie returned to her seat, and Brice left no space between them.

Cassie laced her fingers through his and tried to return the strength she'd siphoned from him over the week. She prayed his common sense would return, too. Then he would see how out of place she was in his world.