Fur Factor (12 page)

She gulped. A slow grin spread across Logan’s face, curving his well-defined lips in a wicked smile. Casually, as if she weren’t watching—or maybe as if she were—he reached down and adjusted the fit of his jeans, which only served to draw her attention to that impressive bulge.

“I don’t suppose you’re in the mood to share?” Christine Warren

Fur Factor

62

Missy caught her breath and tensed, every morsel of erotic curiosity withering inside her. It was one thing to contemplate the other man’s physical attraction, but the minute he uttered the words, her mind, heart and body gave them a resounding veto.

She had no desire for any man but Graham, no matter how sexy the other man might be.

Graham spared her a protest by narrowing his eyes and answering Logan with a menacing growl. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Hunter. Especially not when you already know the answers.”

Missy shivered in relief, and would have relaxed, but Graham continued his sexual torment, firmly grasping her other breast and kneading the soft mound with possessive fingers. She got the feeling he did it for more reasons than that he liked her unimpressive breasts. It was a mark of ownership to him, a warning that no matter what Logan might want, everything Graham touched belonged to him, the alpha, and beta Logan would have to find his own woman.

Logan sighed and nodded, and just like that, it was as if someone had flipped a switch. Instead of devouring the sight of Missy sprawled on the hall carpet being fucked within an inch of her life by a horny and unabashed werewolf, the beta fixed his gaze on the wall behind them, straightened his spine and pretended that she wasn’t even there.

Graham nodded and hunched his hips higher against Missy’s pliant bottom. “Now tell me what the hell is going on, and then get the fuck out.”

“It looks like our Curtis is a little bit over-confident,” Logan said. “He wants to go into the Howl with new contenders all lined up. He told the rest of the pack tonight is a matehunt.”

Missy heard Graham swear, something soft and sibilant and extremely vile, but she almost drowned him out with her own gasp. His fingers clenched hard, pinching like metal clamps around her firm nipples, and the wave of pleasure-pain that washed through her almost sent her over the edge. As it was, her eyes drifted shut, and she forgot all about the other man in the room. All she could remember was the feel of Graham’s cock sliding in and out of her damp pussy and his rough, tender hands clasping her breasts. Around her, the men continued to talk. She heard their words, but they had no meaning compared to the hot, aching itch that tingled through her sensitive clit. She moaned, and Graham gentled his grasp, unclenching his fingers and rolling her nipples softly between them.

“He can’t do that,” Graham growled, his hips slapping against Missy’s with a force that took her breath away. She could feel the anger in him, but she didn’t fear it. “He’s already called a howl against every one of our customs. Now he thinks he can call the matehunt, as well? That little shit needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You’ll have to teach it at the hunt,” Logan said. “The females are already arriving, and from what they tell me, the males who have been out of town are on their way back. There’s not much we can do to keep it from happening now.” Christine Warren

Fur Factor

63

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

Graham’s movement stilled, and Missy whimpered in protest, pushing her hips back against him to try and encourage his thrusts. He braced one arm on the carpet in front of her and stroked her hair with the other, murmuring soothing noises even as he continued his conversation with Logan. “Okay, so did you come in here just to ruin my day, or do you have a suggestion for how we should deal with this?”

“I don’t think we have much choice but to go along with it. If you call it off, it will look like you couldn’t control Curtis well enough to keep him from issuing orders without your consent. And if you let it go but don’t participate, you get the same problem, plus the pack will wonder if Curtis has a point and Breeders Rights should be invoked.”

“Translation: I’m fucked coming or going.”

“Basically.”

Frustrated, impatient, and not understanding a word of what was being said, Missy decided she’d had enough. If Graham was going to get her all hot and bothered in front of a stranger, he damn well wasn’t going to get away with leaving her that way while he discussed obscure Lupine traditions. He had started this little exhibitionistic fiasco, and he could darn well finish it.

Leaning down, she drew her tongue over the hairy, warm surface of his forearm and followed with the teasing scrape of her teeth. She heard a pause in his speech and took it a step further.

“Fine,” she heard him say as she snaked one hand around behind her to stroke against the smooth, sensitive skin of his hip. The muscles tensed beneath her fingers, and she smiled. “We’ll go ahead with the hunt. I’ll make sure I catch the right one. That should take care of most of Curtis’ plans, right?”

“With luck,” Logan answered as Missy dragged her fingernails in a sensual pattern against bare flesh. “Anything that’s still a concern can be answered at the howl, I would think.”

“Ri-iiiiight.”

Graham’s voice broke and stuttered as Missy let out a deep breath and deliberately clenched her inner muscles hard around his swollen cock. She heard the tremor in his voice and grinned, relaxing and then rippling again, allowing her pussy to milk Graham’s cock with a slow, sensuous massage. Looking up, she saw Logan watching her out of the corner of his eyes, and she raised her brows deliberately. The beta cleared his throat.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked, fixing his gaze politely on the opposite wall. Missy clenched again, and Graham’s only response was a hoarse growl and the soft, grunting noise he made as he renewed his thrusting rhythm in Missy’s aching cunt.

Christine Warren

Fur Factor

64

“I think that’s all,” Missy said, her voice brazen, even though she couldn’t keep the heat from rushing to her cheeks. She rolled her hips in blatant encouragement and moaned. “You can go now.”

She wasn’t quite sure where that tone of command had come from, but maybe it was the same place where she’d gotten this ridiculous, latent exhibitionist streak. In any event, she didn’t really care, so long as it worked, and it seemed to. Logan nodded and gave her one last wistful glance just as Graham uttered a fierce growl and clamped his teeth on Missy’s vulnerable shoulder. She threw her head back on a cry, but from beneath her half-lowered lashes, she saw Logan suck in a deep breath, shudder and readjust the fit of his jeans. Then she didn’t see anything, but she vaguely heard the click of Logan closing the library door behind him over the rumbling in Graham’s chest and the broken cadence of her own gasping cries as he lowered his weight onto her back and began fucking her in earnest.

His cock sliced into her like a blade, and she bucked hard, at once trying to escape him and to get closer. He met her with even heavier thrusts until the tension coiling inside her snapped, and she melted around him like cream on a hot summer day, thick and moist and liquid. She desperately sucked in air to feed her starving lungs, throwing her head back until it rested on Graham’s shoulder. Her body arched tight and curved like a bow against his, and his sharp, white teeth sank possessively in the flesh of her narrow shoulder while he emptied his cum inside her. His climax went on and on in breathtaking pulses that seemed to last forever. Over and over she felt flooded by him until finally he shuddered and then fell back to the carpet in a sticky, sweaty mass of very sated flesh.

Feeling limp and exhausted, she offered no protests when Graham rolled to his side and drew her against him, curling protectively around her much smaller body. She hoped drowsily that no one would walk in on them this time, but when he used one of his large, powerful hands to brush the hair tenderly from her face and his warm, raspy tongue soothed the mark he’d left on her shoulder, she almost decided she didn’t care if someone did.

Must be that exhibitionist streak.

Christine Warren

Fur Factor

65

When she finally got dressed—in a second set of borrowed clothing—Missy padded down to the first floor and peered cautiously into Graham’s study. He’d told her he’d wait there for her because he needed to talk to her about something. She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach that insisted he planned to tell her how disgusting he thought she was for behaving that way in front of Logan. He wanted to tell her he’d changed his mind about having her stay this weekend, and he’d call her a cab, but she had to get out of his house before she made him sick.

Okay, calm down
, she urged herself, pausing outside the door and taking a deep breath.
I doubt he’s going to tell you he’s disgusted by something he started, so don’t panic.

Whatever happens, happens.
You knew going in that this wasn’t permanent, so don’t whine
about it ending sooner than you hoped. Just think about the memories he’s leaving you with.

You’re lucky to have those. No sense in getting greedy and wanting him, too.

Her inner voice made a lot of sense, but that didn’t mean Missy liked what it had to say. She knew very well that her arrangement with Graham was never meant to go beyond the weekend, but that hadn’t kept her from hoping. She knew she was a closet romantic, but this seemed kind of ridiculous. They had great sex together, but nothing would convince her that a man like Graham couldn’t have great sex anytime he wanted, with anyone he wanted. He certainly didn’t need her around.

Tugging the hem of her donated shirt, Missy pushed the depressing thoughts from her mind and stepped into the study, knocking softly on the doorframe.

Graham glanced up from a pile of papers and looked her over. Her T-shirt was a little too snug, and the jeans a pack member had lent her were a size too big everywhere except around her butt, so the waist had an alarming tendency to slip down and let her navel play peek-a-boo with the outside world. Before today, none of Missy’s parts had ever played peek-a-boo with anyone. She tugged again at the shirt hem, and his eyes followed the movement. She felt his gaze like fingers on her skin and even before she looked up to see them glowing, she felt the heat they radiated.

“Than—“ She broke off on a squeak, cleared her throat and tried again. “Um, thanks for finding me something else to wear. I feel like I’m raiding the closets of every woman you know.” Then it occurred to her just how many women he knew, and she quickly changed the subject. “Catching up on paperwork?” She nodded to the documents he’d been looking over and played nonchalant.

His expression told her how obvious her ploys were, but he went along with it.

“No. My manager is handling the club for the rest of the weekend. This is just a time killer until you finished getting dressed.” Christine Warren

Fur Factor

66

Missy shrugged and buried her hands in the front pockets of her jeans, then quickly pulled them out again. Pushing down on that particular garment was a bad idea, though the look in Graham’s eyes when they followed the movement said he approved. Heartily.

“Well, I’m dressed. What’s next? I’m not hungry enough to order Chinese, but didn’t you say something about watching movies? I really want to see the new horror flick that just came out.”

Graham rose from his seat behind the desk and took her hand, leading her away from the door and tugging her to sit beside him on the sofa. When he didn’t say anything, she started to get nervous.

“Oh, wait. Something came up, right? Wasn’t that why your friend…um…dropped in?” She winced at the memory. Maybe he really did think she was a slut. “So that means you’re going to be really busy for the rest of the weekend and you have to cancel. It’s okay. I understand. You’ll call when you get free to reschedule, so I should just wait to hear from you. Okay. Let me just grab my purse—“ She made it almost off the sofa before Graham closed one strong hand around her elbow and tugged her back down, straight onto his lap and this time pinning her in place.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” he grumbled, and Missy saw the glowy green thing was happening to his eyes again. “I am going to be busy this weekend, but you’re going to be busy with me. We’re not nearly done yet.” Missy thought about her sore thigh muscles and the ache between her legs—that for once was
not
caused by lust…at least, not by a resurgence of lust—and her eyes widened.

“We’ve got a whole bunch of things to talk about, and not a lot of time, so you get the Reader’s Digest condensed version. Listen up.” She couldn’t quite decipher the reaction she felt to having him clarify that, “we’re not done yet” to mean they weren’t done talking, rather than they weren’t done with sex. If the idea of more sex aroused her, she’d be a masochist, because walking had already become an interesting challenge, but if it didn’t disappoint her just a little, she figured she wouldn’t be female. “All right. Fine. But can I get off your lap first?” He tightened his arms and shook his head. “No. So did you hear any of what Logan had to tell me?”

Missy blinked, scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. Then she processed the question and blushed a rather unique shade of crimson. “Do we have to talk about that?”

Graham looked puzzled. “Well, yes. Why wouldn’t we?” Rolling her eyes and wishing she lived in the alternate reality her Lupine friend seemed to inhabit, Missy fixed her gaze on the rich, brown leather of the sofa and gritted her teeth around her answer. “Because I find it a little humiliating to remember Christine Warren

Fur Factor

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being screwed on a hallway carpet by a man I just met in full view of another man to whom I have never been introduced. But maybe I’m just funny that way.” His chuckle made her eyes narrow and her fist swing, but he caught the blow before it could impact against his chest. “Ah. I understand.” He raised her hand to his mouth and nibbled the backs of her knuckles, which only succeeded in making her angrier. Damn him for still being able to arouse her even with the memory of that embarrassment fresh in her mind.