Gone With the Wolf (14 page)

Chapter Seventeen

By the time Emelia shut off the lights in the bar, it was just past 2:00 a.m. The night had been slow. Slower than she’d ever seen on a Friday night. Were the other businesses in the area being affected the same way? She’d counted one thousand dollars in the till. Much less than it should’ve been, even for the weekend before Thanksgiving.

Emelia flipped up her hood and made her way outside, following the three packmates who seemed to be stuck to her side like glue. Drake’s black convertible Roadster was parked against the curb, its soft-top in place, its windshield wipers sloshing rain onto the sidewalk. Drake exited his car, circled the front, and met them under the awning.

“I’ve got things from here, gentlemen,” Drake said, his dark, brooding eyes flickering from one packmate to another. “Thank you for your service tonight.”

“No problem, sir,” Logan said with a curt nod. He turned his attention to Emelia. “If there’s anything else you need from me, Ms. Hudson, don’t hesitate to let me know. I left my card on the bar.”

Drake grabbed Logan by the scruff of his neck. “In case you didn’t understand, I said beat it.”

Logan nodded, and Drake released his hold.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Emelia said as her bodyguards strode to the public parking lot across the street. “He’s just trying to be helpful.”

“There’s a fine line between helpful and…
helpful
.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “He knows what I’m talking about, and he knows I’m only half-serious.”

Drake was officially jealous. Emelia’s pride swelled.

“You know,” she said, locking up, “it’s a good thing he’s being the first kind of helpful, the one before the eerie eyebrow dance.”

Drake laughed as Emelia scanned the sidewalk, looking for signs of a stranger, a werewolf—
someone
who would jump out from between the buildings and attack her. The last time she’d come out of her bar at this hour, one of Silas’s packmates had been there, ready to take her head off. Although Emelia didn’t see anyone around, the creepy, hair-on-end feeling that someone was watching her remained as strong as ever.

“How’d it go tonight?”

“Good,” she lied.

She turned around and caught her breath. She hadn’t noticed Drake’s attire. He was dressed in dark-washed jeans, a stone-gray sweater, and combat boots. He was drenched, his dark hair sticking to his forehead in wet strands. For the first time, Drake had opted out of his stuffy suit and tie, or his pressed-straight polo shirts and slacks. Emelia fought the smile tweaking the corners of her mouth. He didn’t dress up for their date. At least not in the way she’d expected him to. This was better.

Somehow, from a few brief seconds at her side, Drake eased the tension in Emelia’s shoulders and settled the anxiety swirling in her stomach. She felt safe with him. Like no one would be able to touch a hair on her head with him around.

“Have you been waiting out here long?” she asked, pocketing her keys.

“No, just got here. I had some business to take care of earlier that consumed my day.” It was clear that he wanted to say more, but didn’t.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Not really. Everything’s being handled properly. I’m just looking forward to spending tonight with you to get my mind off things.”

Palming the small of her back, Drake led Emelia to his car, opened the door and waited for her to settle into the leather seat. He really was a gentleman, wasn’t he? Probably one of the only few left in the world. He slid into the driver’s seat and brought the car roaring to life. She took Drake’s hand as he gripped the stick shift. His skin was wet but warm, and her hand molded into his perfectly. Just the way she knew it would.

“So where are we going on this first date of ours?” she asked.

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that? I told you earlier, it’s a surprise.” The car lurched forward as he slammed it into gear and peeled out, leaving the worries of the night far behind them. “Hold on.”

She gripped the “oh-shit” handle on the doorframe as Drake drove the BMW hard, handling it masterfully around curves, flooring it when they had room on the road, and stopping at lights without a single jar. Emelia couldn’t help but throw her head back, laughing from her belly when Drake slowed for passing cops and then sped around the next corner without looking back. Once they hit the freeway and followed signs to Auburn, Drake really let loose, revving the engine to its max, speeding down the slick roadway like he owned it.

When they exited fifteen minutes later, Emelia was smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt.

“How is it possible that you’re so uptight in the boardroom,” Emelia said, as he gunned the car around a tight corner, “and so reckless on the road?”

“I’ve always loved cars. I should show you the muscle cars in my garage back home.”

Muscle cars? So it wasn’t about speed or recklessness at all. It was about power. The Drake Wilder Puzzle fit together before her eyes. Suddenly, it wasn’t so surprising that he owned a ton of cars and drove like a bat out of hell. He owned a bunch of companies and ruled over a pack, too. It shocked Emelia how easily she was starting to be able to figure him out.

“At least now I know why you take the limo everywhere,” Emelia teased.

“Why’s that?”

“You’re hell on wheels! Do you know how many tickets I’d have if I drove like this all the time?”

“Two,” he said, giving her a knockout smile. “One for going sixty-five in a forty-five zone and the other for not wearing a seat belt.”

She smacked him in the shoulder playfully. “Your background checks sure are thorough, aren’t they?”

“Not thorough enough for my taste.” His hand slid up her thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. Her legs parted on their own accord, willing his hand to continue its trek.

When they pulled into a drive-in a few turns later, Emelia swore she’d died and gone to heaven. She’d never been to a drive-in and had always wanted to go. The place looked like it had been awesome in its heyday, with overgrown lawn lining the edges of the parking pad, a swing set near the screen, and picnic tables beneath a spattering of leafless trees.

“Seriously?” she said, mouth dropping open in disbelief. “There’s a show playing now? This late at night?”

“For us, there is.” Drake rounded the corner of a deteriorating snack shack and parked in a stall near the enormous blank screen. “One of my packmates had a vision for the lot and wanted to buy it. The numbers were right, so Wilder Financial invested in the property, and he was kind enough to let me rent it for the night.”

“Wow.” There were no other words. The lot was barren, leaving sound-posts sticking out of the ground like flower stems robbed of their petals. “I thought they did away with these things. Don’t they have the sound from the movie play through the radio?”

“I don’t think he’s had a chance to renovate the place yet.” Drake turned off the engine and smiled as the quiet patter of raindrops ceased to fall on the softly padded roof. “Perfect timing.”

Drake peeled back the convertible top and let it drop behind them. He rolled down the windows, unhooked the speaker from its stand, and hung it on the door. They wouldn’t get a reprieve from the rain for long, but maybe it would hold out long enough to watch the movie.

“Okay, now this is fucking cool.” Emelia squirmed in her seat. Although clouds still cluttered the sky, the rain had stopped and the wind had died. “What’s playing?”

“
Sabrina
.” With a smile, he popped the trunk and exited the car. “I’m a Bogart fan and thought you might like it. Have you seen the original version?”

“I’ve seen the newer one with Harrison Ford,” she said, thinking back to whether or not she liked it. If the movie was a downer, she could think of other things to do with Drake in an empty parking lot. “Is the original black and white?”

“Of course. It released in the fifties.”

She suppressed a groan, but dropped her head back against the seat. Black-and-white movies put her to sleep.

“We can watch something else.” Drake tossed two fuzzy blankets onto her lap and returned to the front seat. “I’ve got
Teen Wolf
on standby.”

“Hardy-har.”

As the screen came to life, rich in its shades of black, gray, and white, Emelia draped the blankets over their laps and snuggled against Drake’s shoulder. Within minutes her disappointment eased. She was at a drive-in watching a movie beneath a cloudy sky with the man of her dreams. Who cared if they watched a black-and-white movie or the newest hit?

Excitement bubbled inside her. It wasn’t the warmth of his body, the buzz of the coffee she’d had before leaving the bar, or watching a movie this way that had her heart beaming with light.

It was
him
.

Realization struck Emelia as Audrey Hepburn’s voice flowed from the speaker and into the car. She could be in his mansion or her teeny-tiny apartment, his yacht or an inflatable raft, beneath a starry sky or balloons of rainclouds…as long as she was with Drake, she’d be happy.

Damn, if she wasn’t in love with the business-suit-wearing, classic-movie-loving, richer-than-gravy werewolf.

Chapter Eighteen

“He should give it all up and go to her,” Emelia said, choking back the emotion welling inside her. Her gaze was glued to the screen. The movie was almost over, and her heart was wrenching. “Why is Linus being so blind? Why won’t he admit his feelings to himself? He loves her.”

“Yes, he does,” Drake said, “but he’s been taught to follow his logic for so long that he’s become deaf to the voice in his heart telling him that she’s his match.”

“Then he needs to wake his ass up.” She swiped a tear rolling down her cheek. “He’s going to lose her and she’s perfect for him.”

“She is perfect for him, but what good will it do Linus to declare his love if Sabrina insists on denying her own feelings?”

“What are you talking about? Look at them.” She pointed to the larger-than-life screen. “Deep down Sabrina has to know she loves him.”

Her words silenced Drake, and when she searched his face for the reason, it struck her. He wasn’t talking about the movie at all. He was talking about them. About Emelia turning Drake down, and turning him away.

She looked at him then, her stomach in a giant knot, her heart overflowing with joy and sadness and…love. Their gazes locked. Emelia’s heart overflowed with desire. Drake wasn’t her boss, the owner of half of Seattle, and probably one of the wealthiest men on the planet. Well, he
was
those things, but he wasn’t those things to her. He was just a guy with the plushest lips she’d ever seen. A guy who made her skin tingle and her heart skip beats. He was a guy who laughed at her crazy jokes, and made her feel like a princess…a princess who could rule her own kingdom if she wanted to.

She wanted him.
This
man. The one sitting beside her. And she wanted him no matter which package he came in. No matter if their future held children or not.

“Kiss me, Drake,” she said.

He angled his body toward her, hesitating, gazing at her as if he knew, as if he felt the snapping in her middle. When Emelia opened her mouth to say more, Drake devoured her words, his lips on hers, his hands brushing feather-softly over her cheeks.

Everything slipped away but the sweet, succulent taste of Drake’s mouth and the electricity behind his touch. Tremors worked through her, tingling her toes, buzzing through her legs, and gathering in her middle. Tangling his hands in her hair, Drake sighed into her and tilted Emelia’s head to deepen the kiss.

She was on fire for him. Burning.

As if he read her mind, Drake palmed her breasts, kneading them in his hands. Her skin caught fire beneath her sweater. She arched back and severed their kiss, then slipped the sweater over her head, exposing a black lace bra that Drake wasted no time raking his fingers against.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words were fragments, pushed out breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Unable to hold back, Emelia dove into another kiss, slanting her mouth over his. As she slid to the edge of her seat and leaned into him, coiling her arms around his neck, Emelia realized it wouldn’t be enough. Her hand found his chest, traipsed down a set of washboard abs, and stroked the bulge in his jeans. He groaned in approval, his hips rising off the seat as his tongue swirled along hers.

Still. Not. Enough.

Desperation rising, Emelia tugged Drake’s sweater over his head and clawed her nails down the sculpted muscles of his chest. He hissed, forcing a quick breath of air through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, biting her lip as she gazed at the ridges on his stomach.

“Baby,” he said, his dark eyes burning with wicked intention, “you can’t hurt me.”

“Is that so?” She leaned over the console and clawed into the hard, muscular groove at his waist, then rubbed her hands over his slick, tanned skin. He bit his own lip and let his head drop back onto the headrest. With her other hand, Emelia stroked his bulge harder, writhing as her own desire spiked, drenching her panties in warmth.

Creating friction over their clothes wasn’t going to cut it. They were beyond that.

In a fevered rush, Emelia kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her pants. She shuffled out of them, panties in tow, and flicked them onto the floorboard. Drake followed her lead, unzipping his pants and jerking them down along with his boxers. When Drake leaned back into the seat, his erection bobbed against his stomach, its thick head swelling over his belly button. She’d never wanted to take a man in her mouth this way—it had never been her thing—but now, she couldn’t think of anything else.

She wanted to pleasure him like he’d pleasured her the last time they made love.

“Ever have sex in a car, Drake?” Emelia asked, wetting her lips.

He smiled slyly. “Not with you.”

“Clever man.” She bent over and took the hard length of him in her mouth, then pulled back and licked the tip. He trembled—it was a tiny, quivering movement, but she caught it. “You always know just what to say.”

He sucked in a shocked breath as she worked her tongue around his head and massaged the base of him with her hand. He moaned. Thrust his hips gently in time with her strokes, and when his torso went rigid, Emelia knew she had him right where she wanted him. As if Emelia’s body could sense Drake’s rising pleasure, her chest tightened and her breath hitched. She was all sensation, crazed and drawn tight. She was ready to ride him, aching to let him fill her with his seed. She was ready to explode. One touch and she’d come apart.

Using the steering wheel and the back of Drake’s seat for balance, Emelia moved from her seat to Drake’s lap. Her knees barely fit on either side of him, but they fit enough. She situated herself over him, feeling their sexual chemistry spark across her skin.

“Did you bring protection this time?” She suckled his earlobe into her mouth.

He groaned and skated his hands up and down her back. Groping greedily at her hips, Drake said, “Diseases don’t pass from werewolves to humans, though I’m clean anyway, and you have to be like me—I mean, you have to have shifted into a werewolf already—to be able to get pregnant.”

“Really? I get to feel you skin-to-skin?” Slowly, she wriggled her core over his tip, and latched her arms around his neck. “You just made my day.”

“Hell, woman, you just made my life,” Drake said, unsnapping her bra, slipping it off her shoulders and flinging it onto the passenger seat. “I want to be inside you so bad. Tell me I can make you come this way. Give me the words, baby.”

Odd as it was, Emelia was beginning to like the whole “asking permission” thing before sex. Although she could never imagine an instance when she’d turn Drake down, it was empowering to know that he respected her enough to ask first.

“I’ll give you any words you want. Take me hard. Right now. Is that what you want to hear?” She impaled herself over him, groaning in time with Drake as his head dropped back. A tumbling wave of ecstasy crashed over Emelia, dragging her to the edge of release. “Oh, Drake, yes!”

“I want more.” Drake softly kissed her breasts, nipping and licking, leaving a scorching trail of wet heat behind. “Tell me you’re mine.”

She rolled her hips slowly, fighting the urge to pound against him and drive him deeper inside her. “I’m yours.”

“That’s it.” As a gust of wind swept over the car, Emelia’s hair flew wildly about her face. Catching the flying strands of blond, Drake yanked her head back and exposed her neck. He claimed her with his mouth, smudged kisses down her neck, sucked and bit at her shoulder. He thrust deep inside, plunging deeper than Emelia thought possible.

The wind whipped around them harder, and as rain began to sprinkle Emelia’s face, the thrill of the night overtook her. She rode Drake hard, gasping, begging, grinding her hips over him mercilessly. The harder she pounded her hips over him, the tighter he gripped her. The sight of Drake sprinkled with sweat and rain, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, his muscles flexing and pulsing…it was too much.

She wanted to cry out at the sheer bliss of the moment. She wanted to scream. Claim Drake Wilder as her own. She wanted to growl and claw and bite, which was all kinds of crazy considering she’d never experienced such primal impulses before.

“I want to bond with you, Emelia,” he bit out, swaying her hips in a torturous rhythm.

“You are bonding with me.” She kissed him, slipping her tongue past his lips, desperate to taste more of his mouth.

“No,” he said, in between gasps of air. “I want to complete the bond with you. I want you to be my Luminary.”

She stilled, aware of every falling drop of rain, every twitch and pulse of his shaft in her core, every stuttering heartbeat.

“There’s something else, too.” Drake gripped her sides, holding her still over the top of him.

“Give it to me.”

“I was wrong about not being able to have children. I was lied to.” He gazed deep into her eyes, catching her heart. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but at least we’ll have the choice.”

“You mean we could start a family someday?” She tasted the sweetness of the words. “Oh, Drake, yes. I wanted to be with you, for us to be together, with or without children. I’d planned to tell you tonight. But now…my heart is bursting. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

The passion in his kiss increased until Emelia thought she’d melted into him, her skin heated up and scorched through.

“What will the bonding mean?” she asked, beginning to move her hips once more. “We’ll be married?”

“Yes.” A throaty moan escaped him. “It’s a werewolf’s equivalent of marriage, but if you want a traditional ceremony after this, we can arrange it. But not now.”

“No.” She bit her lip, sliding her wet breasts against his chest, craving the contact. “Not now.”

Would she even want a marriage ceremony? She wasn’t sure of much when his body was beneath hers this way. But she knew she wanted a future with Drake—a family, home, and children just like him. No wait, their children would be a meshing of the both of them. Wild meshed with reserve. Smart with savvy. It’d be perfect.

“I’ll love you forever,” Drake said, and raised her hand to meet his. “Palm to palm, heart to heart, from this day forward, we shall never part.”

“That was beautiful.” She kissed him. “I love you, too.”

“Say it,” he whispered.

“Palm to palm, heart to heart…” She shuddered. “From this day forward, we shall never part.”

As the words left her lips, Drake kissed her with all the passion he had inside. Emelia could feel his offering, though she couldn’t explain how. She matched it, pinching her eyes shut, giving every last ounce of her heart and soul to him. His tongue swept into her mouth as his shaft swelled inside her. In that instant, Emelia’s soul shattered into a thousand brilliant pieces, sparkling through her body like shooting stars in the night sky. Drake cried out, clutching on to Emelia’s back, plunging his tongue past her lips, thrusting deep, so deep inside.

They had become one. Emelia knew it with every heavy thump of her heart.

They were bonded.

Emelia,
Drake said, his voice husky.

“Yes.”

Look at me.

She opened her eyes, held the gaze of her life-mate, and smiled. “Yes?”

I promise to take care of you like the queen you are,
he said, though his lips didn’t move.

Her eyebrows pinched. “How—”

“Call it another benefit to becoming a werewolf.”

“You can hear my thoughts?” She was in trouble now.

“Only when you project them.” He kissed her the way she’d always dreamed of being kissed. Like he’d die without her. Like he needed her more than the breath passing his lips. “The inner workings of your brain will remain yours.”

“Thank God.”

She’d never felt more full of life, and love, than she did at this moment. As Drake began to knead her rear once more, Emelia fell back into a slow, seductive rhythm. It didn’t take long before kisses turned heated, playful nips turned to bites, and Emelia was slammed back against the steering wheel so Drake could ravish her breasts.

He drove his hand between their bodies, and when he reached her silken heat, he teased her, lightly circling his fingers where she ached and tingled and wanted more pressure. He played her as though her body was an instrument…one he was skilled at strumming. Her muscles seized. Her body trembled. He increased the swirling tempo of his fingers as her hips rolled, leading her toward the blissful release she so desperately craved. The pressure in Emelia’s core gathered into a white-hot ball of ecstasy, building, cresting, and then—she exploded, rising and falling in brilliant white light. Her vision blurred, her toes curled, and her hamstrings cramped.

“Drake…” His name rushed out of her, and before she knew it, she was thrown into another orgasm that was more powerful than the first. The pleasure was so great, she cried out over and over again, Drake’s name ripping from her throat uncontrollably.

“Emelia,” Drake breathed. “You’re mine. Forever.”

“Yes.”

As Emelia’s center gave a final, fading pulse, Drake clenched, going rock-hard from jaw to cock. He gripped Emelia’s shoulders as his hips rose in a final resounding push. When his orgasm hit, he stared deep into Emelia’s eyes and surged into her over and over again, filling her with warmth.

Finally, they stilled. Rain continued to fall, dusting a cool mist over their weak, spent bodies. Emelia let her arms fall to her sides and her chest rested against him…her
husband
. Is that what Drake was considered now? She’d have to ask him if the same titles applied in his pack.

Drake wrapped his arms around her tightly and exhaled. The sound of soft music wafted from the speaker next to Emelia’s ear. The movie had ended and the credits were rolling.

“You were right,” she said, struggling to catch her breath. “That was a great movie.”

He stroked her hair. “Best I’ve ever seen.”

“By far.”

Using two fingers, Drake tilted Emelia’s chin to him. His eyes shone with more love and awe than Emelia deserved. How could she have been so stupid as to deny her feelings before? She loved this man through and through.

“Want to watch it again?” He winked, causing her heart to stutter.