Her Wicked Wolf (5 page)

“They’re an unruly lot. Someone has to.”

“I’m sure,” she said. “But that doesn’t tell me what I want to
know.”

“Which is?”

She didn’t move a muscle, but her voice was as warm and smooth
as any caress could be.

“Who takes care of you?”

SIX

Alistair’s shocked, slightly panicked expression told
Brie that she’d hit on the one thing he really didn’t want to talk about.
Unfortunately, it was the thing she found she most wanted to know. Five years
completely alone, she thought, and he’d spent much longer than that isolating
himself to protect his pack. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Alistair
finally stammered. “I’m a five hundred year old werewolf!”

Brie looked back at him skeptically. “You’re living in an
apartment in a little Vermont town, and you never talk to anyone. Except...”She
looked around with a frown, suddenly remembering. “Don’t you have a cat? I
always hear you talk when you, ah, come home.” She flushed, realizing that she’d
just made it sound like she listened for him. Which she did. Brie hunched her
shoulders, aware that she probably looked fairly pathetic.

Alistair burst into unexpected laughter. It was the first time
she’d heard the sound, and it was richer, and sweeter, than she could have
expected.

“No,” he said as he subsided into chuckling. “Cats don’t like
me, for obvious reasons. I have a fish.”

“A...fish?” It was so normal that after all he’d told her, it
actually seemed a little bizarre.

“A betta,” he said. “Galahad. He’s lovely. No, don’t look at me
like it’s sad, I know it is. I’d rather have a dog, but I’d worry too much about
it, considering.”

“You talk to your fish.” Brie considered this. “That’s actually
kind of sweet.”

Alistair snorted, looking mildly embarrassed. “I’m not
sweet
. Gods, I’m glad none of my pack is around to
hear that. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, you know.”

Brie watched him with a soft smile. She’d bet his pack found
him intimidating. And grouchy. It was amazing how different the man underneath
that image was. Alistair veered between formal and charmingly awkward now that
he wasn’t trying so hard to get away from her. But she’d seen the other side of
him when she’d seen the huge black wolf he’d become. It would be a mistake to
forget that part of him, and of his life. Her smile faded.

Brie looked over his shoulder, out at the darkness full of wind
and snow beyond his partially drawn curtains. He might say they were safe
tonight, but morning would come eventually. And given everything he’d told her,
she could only come to one conclusion.

“You’ll leave as soon as you can, I guess. Tomorrow?”

She saw his surprise. And she saw the truth.

“I haven’t got much choice, Brie.”

Her mouth tightened, but she nodded. Protecting his pack, now
protecting her. That seemed to be Alistair’s mission in life, making sure no one
got hurt but him. It was ridiculous, the despair she felt at the idea of him not
being here. But that didn’t make it any less real. Something he’d said earlier
played on a loop in the back of her mind, refusing to let her be. That true wolf
mates had a chemistry that was combustible. Like a wildfire, she thought. Or an
explosion. The kind of thing that would have a normally nice and polite woman
sucking on a complete stranger’s finger in a dark garage. Or have a mind-bending
orgasm from little more than a passionate kiss.

The truth landed on her like a ton of bricks.
No
wonder
he
bolts
every
time
he
sees
me
. Alistair knew. And he had too much honor to act
on it and drag her into this.

His unguarded expression was haunted as he looked into the
fire, and Brie found watching it almost painful. He’d been alone for far too
long. She couldn’t stop him from leaving, and she wasn’t foolish enough to think
she could take on a werewolf in battle.

But she could be his, even if it was only for a little while.
Even if it was only for tonight. It was what she’d wanted since the first time
she’d laid eyes on him, Brie thought. It would be a relief to finally give in to
all those wild impulses. And now that she finally understood them, she had to
think that Alistair would feel the same.

She hoped, anyway. But there was only one way to find out. All
her nerves kicked in at once, unleashing a torrent of butterflies in her
stomach. Alistair was the definition of nobility on the surface. She would have
to get through to the wicked wolf underneath.

It took every ounce of Brie’s confidence to get to her feet and
approach him. The wary look Alistair gave her was no surprise, but she didn’t
miss the way he drank her in from head to toe, or the way his eyes began to glow
again in the darkness.

“Careful,” he said. “I bite.”

“What a coincidence,” Brie said, trying to keep her voice light
even as her heart started to pound. This was important. She knew it on a level
so deep it was impossible to question. “So do I.”

His deep chuckle was more of a groan as she braced her hands on
either side of his head, gripping the chair, and leaned down, only inches from
his face. She had never played the seductress, always too self-conscious. But
with him, it felt right. She felt...powerful.
More
.

“What do you want of me?” he asked, and it sounded more like a
plea for mercy. Brie couldn’t find any. So close to him, every inch of her body
was vibrating with need. If she walked away now, she could very well burst into
flames.

“Wrong question,” Brie said softly. “What do you want from
me
?”

He shuddered, his eyes beginning to burn like blue flames.
“You’d run if you knew what the answer was.”

She shook her head slowly. “No. Actually, I don’t seem to be
able to get close enough to you. I have some theories on why that is, and since
there’s just you, me and a warm fire, I don’t see any reason not to test
them.”

Alistair licked his lips, and she saw a flicker of the hungry
wolf within. “Brie, try to understand. I’m warning you. That might prove to
be...”

She leaned closer, breathing in the woodsy, slightly exotic
scent of him, and spoke with her lips only a breath away from his.

“Combustible,” she finished for him. “Did you think I wouldn’t
figure it out?”

His sharply handsome face flooded with understanding, regret,
and terrible need. Before he could say another word, she brushed her lips
against his, and a tremor ran through him that told her all she needed to
know.

“Alistair. Let go, just for tonight. You know what I am, and so
do I. I’m yours.”

He groaned, and in it she heard his surrender. His hands dug
into her hips, and then she was being lifted, carried in a rush of air. Before
she’d even had time to make a sound the plush rug was against her back, the
fireplace warm and crackling to her left. Alistair loomed over her, his
breathing harsh, hands at either side of her head. She could see the animal in
him now, in the tense way he crouched over her, in the way the light glinted off
his incisors, which seemed much sharper than before.

It shocked her, how hot it made her.

Alistair seemed to know, curling his lip and growling in a way
that sounded utterly inhuman. “This is what letting go looks like. Are you sure
that’s what you want?”

In response, she lifted her hands and slid them into his hair,
gently pushing the heavy silk of it away from his face, then again, stroking.
Seeing how even that simple touch affected him had her breath stilling in her
throat. Alistair’s eyes rolled back, then shut as he groaned softly. He leaned
into her touch, urging her to continue. There was nothing explicitly sexual
about it, and yet it was one of the most sensual experiences Brie had ever
had.

She hated to think of how long it must have been since he was
touched...though she couldn’t wish the pleasure of it on anyone but her.

Lost in sensation, Alistair’s face cleared of worry. He still
looked somber—she doubted there were many instances when he didn’t—but his
expression was softer, seductive. When he opened his eyes again to look down at
her through impossibly long lashes, she could feel that something had shifted
between them. He’d stopped fighting, at least for now.

She’d take it.

“Brie,” he said. She worried, just for a moment, that he would
start to protest again. But all he did was repeat her name, more softly this
time. “Brie.”

He lowered his head, touching his nose to hers. Her lips parted
when his breath teased them, but Alistair held back, looking in her eyes once
more. He seemed to be searching for something, though she couldn’t imagine what.
Then, before she knew what was happening, his mouth was on hers.

It was exactly what she’d wanted, and far better than she could
have imagined. Where his earlier kisses had tugged at her heart, this kiss was
all about raw possession. Alistair’s mouth was hard on hers, his tongue sweeping
into her mouth to taste her. She felt the scrape of his teeth against her lips
as he deepened the kiss, stoking the slow-burning fire in her until she couldn’t
hold a single thought. There was only feeling.

She dragged her nails down his back, over the soft material of
his sweater, and then slid her hands beneath to find taut muscle, heated skin.
She flattened her hands against his back, trying to pull him down to her, but he
didn’t seem inclined to obey. Instead, he pushed back onto his feet, rose and
looked down at her as he pulled the sweater off. The look on his face as he
threw it aside was deadly serious.

“Be sure,” he said. And when she saw the scars, she understood.
They were long and white, crisscrossing his chest and torso. Some were thin,
some so wide that she knew the wounds had originally gaped open. He’d been
savaged, she saw. Even his throat bore marks that bespoke sharp teeth.

His brother, she thought sadly. He was warning her. Maybe he
thought the truth would repulse her, or frighten her. Instead, she got to her
feet, placed her hands gently on his chest, and leaned down to press a soft kiss
to scar after scar, lingering on the ones over his heart.

“I want you naked,” he said, his voice rough, his hands far
gentler than his voice as he wound them in her hair and urged her to stand
upright again. She straightened, and he skimmed his fingers down her jaw before
letting them drop to his sides and stepping even closer, eyes burning down into
his.

“Now,” he said in a whisper that brooked no refusal.

Brie swallowed hard at the command, so different from the
perfect manners he usually showed her. But this was what she’d asked for—the
wolf. And there was indeed something predatory about the way he looked at
her.

The firelight played over the hard, lean muscles of his bare
torso, and Brie gave herself a moment to enjoy the sight before she did as she
was told. Scarred or not, he was beautiful. Slowly, she lifted her own sweater
over her head, leaving her in nothing but her simple black bra. She shivered in
spite of the warmth coming from the fire, then reached behind her back to unhook
the clasp.

The focus in his glowing eyes as she pulled away the fabric to
bare her breasts was like nothing she’d been subject to before. Her nipples
pebbled in the cooler air, and her breasts felt full, heavy, aching to be
touched. She shook her hair back over her shoulders. Undressing for him this way
felt wicked, erotic.

She heard his sharp breath, watched, fascinated, as he stepped
back and his hand dropped to unbutton his pants. One button, then the
zipper...and then a pause, an arched brow.

Brie knew what he wanted. He’d already made it perfectly clear.
And it seemed this was going to be a give-and-take. She slid out of her jeans
quickly, stripping off her socks afterward. Then she was left in nothing but her
underwear, simple bikini briefs that matched the discarded bra. That was where
she hesitated.

“Everything off,” Alistair said. “No turning back now.”

No, there certainly wasn’t. Nor did she want there to be. Brie
slid the scrap of fabric down her hips to the floor, then stepped away from
them.

Alistair’s gaze as it raked over her body burned hotter than
the fire. She heard his shuddering intake of breath, saw the preternatural flash
of his eyes.

“So beautiful,” he growled.

“Now you,” Brie said, but he shook his head. She frowned, not
understanding. Unbuttoned and unzipped, his pants hung open just enough so that
she could see the thin, enticing trail of hair that vanished beneath. When she
raised her eyes to his again, what she saw there gave her pause.

He looked...hungry. It wasn’t until that moment that she
realized how much he was still holding back. And how close he was to snapping
that tether.

“I want to take a good look,” he rasped, “before I’m on you. In
you.
Mine
.”

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding.

“Show me,” Brie said, barely getting out the words. She could
hardly breathe.

“My bed. Or maybe the floor.” His lengthened, dagger-sharp
incisors flashed when he smiled at her. The reserved man she’d known was gone.
This was the wolf. “Run.”

She spun and heard the rustle of fabric as his pants came off.
Brie sprinted away, almost giddy with a potent mixture of desire and fear. Not
fear of Alistair, but the primal fear that being pursued always inspired, the
impulse to get away, knowing that a predator was right at your heels. She knew
she’d be caught—she wanted to be caught—but that didn’t stop the adrenaline from
bursting through her veins as she sprang through a doorway and down a short
hall. She could feel him, could hear his breathy snarl as he closed in on
her.

Brie only made it two steps into the bedroom before she was
seized around the waist. She made a single, sharp sound of surprise as she was
tossed into the middle of a massive four-poster bed. She caught only a glimpse
of blazing eyes in the dark before he leaped at her, covering her body with his
and entering her with a single hard thrust.