Her Lone Wolf (16 page)

She’d gone through so much underwear during the time they’d been together she sometimes thought she single-handedly kept Victoria’s Secret in business—but damn, she loved when he went all caveman on her like that.

He slid his hands between her legs with a groan. “You’re so wet.”

She let out a husky laugh. “You have a way of doing that to me.”

Clayne chuckled and ran his fingers along her pussy lips, up one fold and down the other over and over until she thought she’d go crazy. To distract herself, she finished unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, baring his chest.

He wouldn’t stop what he was doing long enough for her to get the shirt all the way off, but that was okay. She still sucked in a breath when she got a glimpse of the parts she could see.
Daaaaammn
. He really had been working out a lot the past two years. He had muscles she’d never seen before, and he’d been unbelievably well built then.

She slipped both hands inside his shirt, reaching around to run her nails down his back. Clayne lifted his head with a growl, his dark eyes turning molten gold as they shifted and locked with hers for a moment before he covered her mouth in another scorching-hot kiss.

It was her turn to growl as one of his long, thick fingers slid deep inside her. She clung to his shoulders, digging her nails in deeper as he moved his finger in and out. He didn’t do it fast enough to make her come, but he teased her just enough keep her on the edge. She rotated her hips in time with his movements, grinding her clit against his hand.

He lifted his head, watching her face. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she felt her legs start to tremble.

“You might need to get that condom on soon,” she gasped. “It’s been a really long time for me, you know?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “How do you know I don’t want to watch you come like this?”

The way he was working her, he was pretty damn close already. “I don’t mind if that’s what you want to do. But I thought you’d want to be inside me with my legs wrapped tightly around you the first time you make me explode.”

Clayne slid his finger out so fast she nearly fainted. His head whipped around to find the small plastic bag from the pharmacy. She almost laughed as he yanked the box of condoms out and tore it open. Most of them ended up on the floor, but he got what he wanted—one precious foil packet.

She yanked open his belt and together they shoved his jeans down to mid-thigh. She would have pushed them all the way down, but Clayne was in too much of a hurry. He’d barely pushed his straining underwear down far enough to free his cock before he was tearing at the packet in his hand.

Danica stared at his erection, almost overwhelmed by the urge to drop to her knees and take him in her mouth. But that would have to wait because she wanted Clayne inside her as much as he wanted to be there. She’d spent every night of the past two years remembering what it had been like to be with him, and she wasn’t going to wait any longer. And as Clayne lifted her up and shoved her back against the wall, she realized she didn’t have to.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he found her wet opening with his shaft. He teased her by rubbing the tip along her slick folds once, then twice, before finally taking pity on them both and slamming into her with a single, hard thrust that stole her breath and convinced her that leaving him had been the dumbest thing she had ever done in her life. She buried her face in his neck, squeezing him with her thighs as he pounded into her.

Their joining was so amazing it almost moved her to tears. In between moaning, whimpering, and sighing, she probably did cry a little. Only a few short days ago, she thought she’d never see Clayne again, and now that he was with her, she was going to hold on to him and never let go.

Clayne must have felt the same because he gripped her ass in both hands and drove himself so deep inside her she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.

Pleasure spiraled through her, building steadily as Clayne moved in and out. She whimpered against his shoulder as she rode it out, her legs clenching more tightly around him, her heels digging into his well-muscled ass and yanking him harder into her, silently begging him to come with her.

He plunged his cock deeper but didn’t climax. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Hallway behind you,” she said huskily as she realized he wasn’t nearly ready to come yet. “All the way at the end.”

Danica started to unwrap her legs from around Clayne’s waist so she could lead the way, but he stopped her with a growl. Tightening his hold, he turned and headed for her bedroom, the hands under her ass firmly keeping her impaled on his cock. The way he moved inside of her as they walked created some very interesting friction, and she squeezed her muscles around him, eliciting a low rumble from Clayne.
Mmm, a woman could get used to this.
Clayne clearly liked it, too, because he forgot about the bedroom and stopped in the kitchen to perch her ass on the edge of the counter. Pushing her back, he got a firm grip on both ankles and spread her legs wide, then began to plunder her pussy all over again. In this position, the tip of his penis thumped against her G-spot every time he thrust. The sensation was so overwhelming it threatened to take her breath away.

“Oh God,” she moaned.

She dropped her head back, studying him from beneath her lashes. His muscles flexed and rippled each time he moved, mesmerizing her, and she was tempted to sit up so she could run her hands over him. But that would mean he wouldn’t be rubbing her G-spot anymore. So she stayed where she was.

Clayne was just as focused on her. His eyes slowly caressed her naked body as if reacquainting himself with it. While he watched, Danica slipped one of her hands down between her legs and made lazy circles round and round her clit. His eyes smoldered.

Touching herself in front of Clayne had always gotten her hot as hell, and the two years apart hadn’t changed that. Her orgasm washed over her in big, rolling waves and she had to grab the edge of the counter with her free hand when her head began to spin. She didn’t bother to stifle her screams this time. She simply threw back her head and climaxed hard.

Clayne pumped faster, riding her the whole way and making her think he was going to come with her. But the moment the trembling subsided, he slowed his movements again.

She pried her eyes open to look at him. “You waiting for a special invitation or something?”

Clayne smiled down at her, his golden eyes glinting. “I’ve been waiting two years for this. Do you think I’m going to let it end this soon?”

She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t going to let him get away with coming just once, but he reached down and pulled her to a sitting position.

“Wrap those legs around me again, woman,” he ordered. “I’m getting you in that damn bed of yours this time.”

That was the kind of order she had no problem following. She laughed and draped her arms around his neck as he slid his hands under her ass and picked her up again. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this, but she could only thank God for giving her a chance to fix what she had screwed up so royally.

They made it to the bedroom this time, with only one short pit stop in the hallway. Apparently, Clayne couldn’t control himself for the whole trip—something Danica took as a compliment.

Once Clayne had her positioned in the middle of the bed on her back, he pushed her knees up and drove himself into her. Danica had a moment of panic. After going so long without sex, then having two orgasms right in a row, she was afraid she’d be too sore, but to her relief, her body welcomed him. She wrapped her legs tightly around his muscular back and urged him to take her as hard as he wanted.

Above her, Clayne’s eyes glowed in the near darkness of the room. His canines were slightly extended, and his face had taken on that leaner, more chiseled look the way it did before a shift. Danica supposed a lot of women would be unsettled by seeing him like this, but she had always found Clayne’s wolf form sexy as hell. And after not seeing it for two years, those features seriously did it for her right then.

She reached up and buried her hands in his long hair, yanking him down for a soul-searing kiss. His weight pressed against her, holding her captive under him as he pounded into her.

“I’ve missed this so much,” she whispered.

The words were so soft that an ordinary man probably wouldn’t even have heard them, but she was sure Clayne had. He thrust faster and harder, his breathing hot and heavy in her ear.

He was going to come soon. In her, where he should be.

Clayne buried his face in the hair around her neck, teasing her skin with those slightly extended canines. She knew he was inhaling every trace of her scent, letting it fill every corner of his mind. She arched against him, giving him access to her throat. He groaned and grazed the vulnerable skin with the sharp points of his teeth, moving in and out of her in that ragged way that told her he was peaking.

“Come for me,” she begged, wrapping her legs more tightly around him.

He nipped her neck, not enough to hurt, but she could still feel it. The sensation sparked another climax, and she went over the precipice of pleasure with him.

Clayne shoved his cock as far inside her as it would go and held himself there as the last tremors of his climax racked his powerful body. The way he pulsed inside her on top of the rippling aftershocks of her own orgasm was enough to bring tears of happiness to Danica’s eyes. She had her wolf back. Everything was going to be okay as long as they were together.

“Don’t you ever leave me again, Danica.” The soft words were half plea, half sob. “Promise me.”

She ran her hands from the damp hair at his neck down to the hard muscles of his ass and back up again to hold him tightly. She wasn’t going to let him go—not this time.

“I promise,” she whispered.

Norway had been another dead end. As much as Ivy wished the doctors had been there so they could finally end this, she was relieved they hadn’t found any more dead kids. The one they’d found in Canada was horrible enough. Even so, she hadn’t said more than ten words to Landon on the flight back to the States. The longer they went without finding the doctors, the better the chance of them creating a hybrid using her DNA. That possibility gnawed at her so much it was hard to think of anything else.

“None of this is your fault,” Landon had told her.

Ivy had been too busy plotting what she was going to do to the two doctors when she and Landon finally found them to correct her husband.

Her silence hadn’t been lost on Landon. When they got back to the DCO, he told John they both needed a couple days off to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Ivy let out a short laugh at that. She hadn’t slept through the night in months. She didn’t know what made Landon think she was going to start now.

Ivy grabbed her iPad from the coffee table and sat down on the couch. What she wouldn’t give to go on a good old-fashioned mission that had nothing to do with mad scientists and hybrids. But she and Landon were officially on leave for the next few days, which was probably just as well. As preoccupied as she was, she could lose focus on a mission and get Landon hurt—or worse.

Ivy finally decided on an app and was about to click on it when the doorbell rang. Setting her iPad back on the coffee table, she uncurled herself from the couch and walked over to put her eye to the peephole. Layla’s long ponytail bounced as she bobbed her head to the music on the buds in her ears.

Ivy opened the door. “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming over.”

Layla walked in, taking the buds out of her ears as she passed. “I didn’t either. But I figured I’d take a chance and see if you were home.” She looked around as she tossed her purse on the coffee table. “Where’s Landon?”

“He ran to the store to pick up some milk.”

Her sister lifted a brow as she flopped down on the sectional couch. “Since when do you drink milk?”

“Landon thinks eating cereal without milk is a crime against humanity.” She still turned her nose up at drinking a whole glass of the stuff, though. “Do you want something? Iced tea, or a bottle of water?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Ivy curled up on the opposite end of the couch. “So, what’s new with you and Jayson? Has he found a place to live yet?”

Layla had been with Jayson when Ivy and Landon had gone to visit him the other day. While the guys had caught up, she and her sister had gone to the cafeteria to grab coffee. As they waited in line, Layla told her Jayson was being released from Walter Reed soon and that he was terrified of the prospect. The former Special Forces lieutenant hadn’t said it out loud, but since Ivy and Landon’s wedding, Layla had hung out with him enough to know he was freaked out by the idea of leaving the protective confines of the military hospital. In there, he was just another wounded warrior. But out in society, he’d be handicapped, broken, someone to be pitied.

“Not yet.” Layla kicked off her sandals to sit cross-legged on the couch. “We’ve been looking for apartments. Online, anyway. He’s not much help. I think he’s still hoping they’ll change their minds and tell him he needs to stay longer.”

“Does he need to stay longer?” Ivy asked.

Layla shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s still in a lot of pain, but the doctors said that isn’t going to change for a while. The rehab has taken him as far as it can. The rest is up to him.”

Ivy understood that, but it still seemed harsh. She remembered how much pain he’d been in standing at the altar with the rest of the groomsmen at the wedding. That had only been a couple months ago.

“When are they booting him out?”

“They still haven’t given him a firm date yet, but it’ll be soon. Which is why he needs to find a place to live.” Layla made a face. “It doesn’t help that when I ask what kind of apartment he wants, half the time he agrees he should get one on the first floor. But then the other half, he acts like he doesn’t have any injuries at all and wants to look at third-floor walk-ups.”

If Jayson was anything like Landon, that’s the kind of apartment he’d move into, just to prove to everyone he wasn’t disabled. “He’s definitely staying in DC then?”

Layla nodded. “He doesn’t have any family left, so there’s no reason for him to go back to Indiana. And moving back to the Fort Campbell area would be silly, too, since his Special Forces buddies are deployed all the time. It just makes the most sense for him to stay in the area considering Landon and the other friends he’s made in rehab are here.”

“And you’re here,” Ivy pointed out.

Her sister blushed. “We’re friends. I don’t think he’s going to make major life decisions based on what I want.”

“I don’t know about that. I saw the way he was looking at you when Landon and I stopped by. He really likes you. It’s obvious.”

Layla picked up the throw pillow beside her and plucked at the fabric. “I really like him, too. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to stay. But I won’t be selfish. If he wants to move somewhere else, I’ll support him.”

Ivy wasn’t sure she could be as selfless if it were Landon. She didn’t tell her sister that, though. Layla was pretty impressed with herself already.

“Has he talked about what he’s going to do for work yet?” Ivy asked. “Landon told me the army offered Jayson a position at the Special Forces school at Bragg, but that Jayson wanted no part of it.”

“Yeah. According to him, he doesn’t want to be the guy who can teach it but not do it.” Layla let out a snort. “I don’t know what the hell that even means. What, does he think they’re going to look down on him? Or that he got the job because he’s disabled? So what if they do? That’s their problem.” Her sister tossed the throw pillow back on the couch. “He can be so damn frustrating.”

Those were the exact words Landon had used to describe his friend on more than one occasion. She’d tell her sister the same thing she told her husband. “Just be patient with him.”

“I’ll try.” Layla gave her a small smile. “Speaking of jobs, are there any openings at the DCO?”

“For Jayson, you mean?”

“No, silly. For me. You know, something in the psychology department.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Although now that you mention it, getting Jayson a job there might be a good idea. With his military experience—”

Ivy cut her off. “No. Absolutely not.”

Her sister frowned. “Because he’s disabled?”

“I’m not talking about Jayson. I’m talking about you,” Ivy said. “There aren’t any openings.”

That wasn’t true. There were always openings for shifters at the DCO. Just not for her sister. The thought of Layla going into a war-torn country with a partner who had orders to kill her if she was ever compromised made Ivy light-headed. And the image of her being strapped down to a table and tortured to get her DNA was enough to make Ivy sick. She’d been lucky to finally get teamed up with a partner like Landon. Her sister might not be as fortunate.

“How do you know?” Layla protested. “Maybe if you talk to your boss—what’s his name, John—?”

“Forget it, Layla!”

Ivy jumped to her feet and made a beeline for the kitchen, hoping that would put an end to the conversation, but since the kitchen, living room, and dining room were all one big, open space, it didn’t help.

“Why not?” her sister demanded from the couch.

Ivy ignored the question as she refilled her glass with more iced tea from the pitcher in the fridge. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely get the drink in the glass without spilling it.

Layla let out a frustrated growl and stomped into the kitchen after her. “What the hell is up with you? You have a killer job you love at a place where you don’t have to hide what you are. A place that provides you this unbelievable kickass apartment in one of the best parts of DC and pays you an unreal amount of money on top of that. Why wouldn’t you want me to get a job there?”

Ivy thumped the pitcher down so hard on the granite counter it would have shattered if it’d been glass and whirled around to face her sister. Layla was standing there with her arms folded and her eyes gleaming like the cat shifter she was. Ivy’s own inner feline came out in response, her teeth lengthening slightly, her eyes taking on that same green glow.

It was on the tip of Ivy’s tongue to tell Layla about how her first partner had tried to rape her and how the second one had treated her like crap. About the standing order that Landon had to kill her rather than let anyone find out she was a shifter. About the hybrids and all the other monsters out there that she, Landon, and everyone else she worked with protected the world from every day. About being tortured and having needles shoved into her body over and over.

But she didn’t say any of those things.

“You don’t have a clue what the DCO does or what it thinks about shifters like you and me. To most of the people there, we’re nothing more than useful animals—like two-legged K-9 sniff dogs.”

Her sister snorted. “If it’s so bad, why are you still there?”

“Because I don’t have a choice, dammit!”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Ivy didn’t answer. What could she say? That a pair of mad genetic scientists had stolen her DNA to make monsters and that she couldn’t leave the DCO until she found them?

Layla shook her head. “I don’t even know why I bothered asking you. Wait, I know. Because you’re my sister. I thought you’d want to help me out.”

Eyes still gleaming, she turned and strode into the living room to grab her purse. Ivy went after her.

“Layla, wait!”

“Forget it!”

Her sister jerked open the door so violently it nearly bounced against the wall. She probably would have slammed it shut just as hard if Landon hadn’t been on his way in with a bag of groceries in each arm. Layla stormed past him without a word and disappeared down the hall.

“What was that about?” he asked as he closed the door.

Ivy followed him into the kitchen. “She wants a job at the DCO.”

Landon pulled out a half gallon of milk from one of the bags. “So, what’s the problem?”

She loved him, but sometimes he could be so dense. “She’s a shifter, that’s the problem.”

He put the milk away and closed the fridge. “Yeah, but she has a degree in psychology, not criminology.”

“And Declan was an engineer turned forest ranger, but they turned him into an operative, didn’t they?”

Landon frowned. “Okay, I see your point.”

Ivy grabbed a box of cereal and started for the pantry, but her husband took it and set it down on the counter, then pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, surrounding herself with his warmth.

“Layla wants to join the DCO because she wants to follow in the footsteps of her big sister,” he said. “With a résumé like hers, she’s going to have so many job offers she’ll forget all about the DCO soon enough.”

“I hope so.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I know so.”

Ivy prayed he was right. Because if Layla got a job at the DCO, she’d be so worried about her sister she might never sleep again.

* * *

Clayne took one hand off the wheel to dig in his pocket for his cell phone. “Can you call John for me? I want to see if the DCO has a lead on this asshole yet.”

Danica scrolled through his list of contacts. Her finger faltered when she saw he still had her number among them. Giving herself a mental shake, she continued scrolling until she got to John’s number, then put him on speaker. Clayne didn’t waste time with pleasantries when his boss answered, but simply asked if the man had any information for them yet.

“Unfortunately, not yet,” John said. “There’s no record of a shifter who even comes close to meeting the profile of the killer anywhere in our database, or even the older hard copy records. We’ve been searching for a link, but there’s nothing. I think it’s time I sent some backup.”

“We don’t need backup,” Clayne growled. “We need a lead on who the hell this guy is.”

“We’re working on it,” John said calmly. “But you’re still going to need someone to help with cleanup.”

The muscle in Clayne’s jaw flexed. “Because you assume I’m just going to kill this bastard, right?”

Danica frowned. What the heck was that about? But if John noticed the anger in Clayne’s voice, he didn’t mention it.

“I’m assuming you’re going to take him down however you have to. Dead or alive, the team will be there to help you clean up just like they always do.”

Clayne muttered something unintelligible in reply as he pulled her car into the FBI parking lot. Danica hung up and handed him the phone.

“What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” Clayne asked.

“You got upset when John implied you might have to kill this guy,” she said. “Since when do you have a problem with doing that? If there’s one person who needs a bullet through the head, it’s this sicko.”

Clayne jerked the key out of the ignition. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

She grabbed his arm as he started to get out of the car. “No, I’m not going to forget about it. Something’s bothering you and we’re not getting out of this car until we talk about it.”

He shook his head, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I forgot how stubborn you could be sometimes.”

She arched a brow. “Talk about the pot and the kettle. Seriously, what’s bothering you?”

“If I hadn’t been quick to kill those guys in Buffalo, both our lives could have been completely different.” When she opened her mouth, he shushed her. “Just let me say this, okay?”

Danica sat back and waited.

Clayne was quiet for a while before he continued. “When John implied I was going to kill this guy, it made me wonder if maybe I’m too quick to pull the trigger sometimes.”

She shook her head. “That’s crazy. We were partners a long time, and I never saw you kill anyone who didn’t deserve it. And as far as what happened in Buffalo, those jerks deserved it more than most.”

“But by killing them, I gave Dick the leverage he needed to break us up. What if I do something like that again because I shoot first and ask questions later?”