Laura's Wolf (Werewolf Marines) (15 page)

She pulled up the sheet and wriggled out of her pajamas under it, kicked them to the base of the bed, then lifted one edge of the sheet and patted the mattress. “Come on in.”

He didn’t take the offer. “Don’t you want to see me naked?”

Laura almost choked. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more, except possibly to have him inside her. “Yes.”

“Then take off my clothes.”

She realized the trap as it sprang. She couldn’t do that without revealing her own nudity. “Um…”

Roy folded his arms, clothed and stubborn. “What are you hiding? You’re gorgeous. If you have scars, I don’t care. You’ve already seen mine.”

“I don’t have scars.”

“Then what?” Roy frowned. “Oh, is it seriously because you think you’re fat?”

He clearly wasn’t going to give up. Reluctantly, Laura threw back the sheet, letting him see her entire body: her breasts, her belly, her thighs. Everything.

“I
am
fat,” she said, when an eternal moment of silence had passed. “I knew you’d be disappointed…”

“Are you kidding?” Roy replied. “You look like a fucking goddess.”

Laura blinked. But she could hear the raw desire in his voice, and knew that he meant it.

“Here, I’ll prove it,” he added.

He took his shirt off, moving a little stiffly. Laura could see that when he put his arms above his head, the movement tugged painfully at his half-healed gunshot wound.

His bandage stood out stark and white. Her eyes were drawn first to that, then to the scars on his chest, the marks of the shrapnel wounds that had nearly killed him.

She indicated them. “Do they still hurt?”

“No.”

Laura ran a fingertip along one. It crossed over his heart, a jagged pink line, raised and hairless and smooth.

Roy drew in a stuttering breath. “You’re the first person to ever touch me there.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“What’s it feel like?” she asked.

“Strange,” he said, after a moment’s thought. “I can feel pressure, but not temperature. I hadn’t noticed before.”

“You don’t mind me seeing them?”

He shook his head. “I have other scars too. No one’s ever cared. Take a look. There’s a good one on my right hip.”

She envied his confidence in his own body. But then, his body was gorgeous, scars and all. She wanted to see more of it.

Laura tugged off his pants. But once they were off, she forgot about looking at his hip. He was hard as a rock, and larger than any man she’d ever been with. Now she knew what he’d meant when he’d said he’d prove what he saw in her. She could see for herself how much she’d turned him on.

“God, you’re big,” she said, a little nervously.

“It’s proportional,” he said with a grin. “I’m a big guy. Don’t worry. Gentle and slow, remember?”

A wash of heat flowed through her body, making her exquisitely aware of the slippery warmth between her legs.

“Maybe…” she said huskily. “Later… don’t be so gentle.”

She saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “Whatever you want. Just say the word.”

“Gentle and slow tonight,” she said hastily, glancing up at his bandage. “But later…”

“Later I won’t be,” he promised.

He pulled her down to the bed, so they lay side by side. For a long, delicious, slow stretch of time, they explored each other’s bodies, kissing and licking and caressing.

Roy took her nipples in his mouth, one by one, teasing them with his tongue until they hardened and swelled, until Laura shuddered and stiffened, until she wondered if it was possible to come just from that. She felt as if she might.

He raised his head, his pupils huge and black. “You’re so beautiful. I wish I could make you believe it.”

“I believe it when you say it,” she replied, and meant it.

He reached under the pillow. The packet rustled as he tore it open.

“Wait,” she said.

Laura slid downward, letting the wet nubs of her nipples trail along his body, until her mouth was at his cock. She exhaled a long, slow, warm breath against it, her lips close but not touching. Roy clenched his fists, the strong muscles of his thighs tensing, holding himself still.

His scent rose up, clean and masculine, like a well-worn black leather jacket. Laura wanted to experience him with all her senses. She put her hands down on his hips, holding him in place, and flicked out her tongue to taste him.

Soft, delicate skin slid over rock-hard flesh. The taste was clean, too, and a little salty. As she licked her way upward, a drop of liquid slid into her mouth, slippery and slightly sweet.

Roy was breathing hard, trembling. When she reached the top and closed her whole mouth around him, as far as she could go, he let out a choked moan.

“That’s enough,” he gasped. “It’s great, stop!”

Laura took her mouth away.

“It’s great, stop?” she echoed.

Roy pulled her up to lie beside him, holding her close. His skin was hot against hers. “It’s been a while for me, okay? That got really intense, really fast. I don’t want to go off like a rocket. I want to do something for you.”

Laura relaxed against him. “It’s been a while for me too.”

“Yeah, that’s different. You’re a woman. You get multiple tries.”

She laughed. “That’s not what I usually hear that called.”

She wrapped herself around him, wriggling in close, melding her body to his. She felt him shift as he put the condom on, then move back in, holding her tight. They lay side by side, arms wrapped around each other. He was hard as steel against her thighs.

Roy pressed his lips against hers, kissing her with more passion than his promised gentleness. But he moved gently, rubbing himself against her without entering her. The friction sent shivers of pleasure through her body—shivers that quickly turned to waves.

She broke off the kiss, throwing her head back to gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders. It distantly occurred to her that she might be drawing blood, which she never did, she never lost control like this, but she couldn’t stop. There were sounds coming out of her mouth, moans and gasps like she never made, but she couldn’t stop those either.

Without breaking his rhythm, Roy pushed into her. She felt herself open to him, be filled by him, the entire length of him sliding against her all the while, gentle and easy and exquisitely, agonizingly, unbearably slow. Laura tensed, shuddering on the brink of climax, caught in anticipation so intense that it was indistinguishable between pleasure and pain.

As he completely buried himself in her, she tumbled over the edge. For a single perfect moment, she forgot her fears, her troubles, her past, her entire self, forgot everything but sheer joy.

When she came back to herself, Roy was moving in her, still holding her tight. She lay content in the delicious aftermath, watching him as he approached his own climax, long lashes fluttering, lips parted.

“Laura,” he gasped. “I—I’m—”

His fingers clenched on her shoulders as he came with a wordless cry, his head falling back.

Then he lay beside her, eyes closed, spent. They were still joined together, and Laura had no desire to pull apart. She raised herself on one elbow to look at his face, as unguarded and vulnerable as he was in sleep.

A rush of emotion flooded her. She wanted to protect him. She wanted to be protected by him. She wanted to solve his problems and heal his wounds, learn the stories behind all his scars, tell him how grateful she was to him for everything he’d done for her, stand by his side and watch his back, keep guard while he slept, have him guard her sleep, sit on the couch and read with him, cook for him, have him teach her how to fight and fire a gun, watch him run as a wolf, listen to him tell her she was beautiful and brave and worthwhile, make love with him every night, hold him tight and never let him go.

Even in her own mind, she shied away from the word “love.” She couldn’t be in love with him. She’d only known him for a few days. But it had been a very intense few days. She felt as if she’d known him forever.

Roy opened his eyes and cupped her cheek in his warm palm.

“Are you happy?” he asked softly.

“I’m beyond happy. That was amazing. How about you? How do you feel?”

“I feel good,” he said. She supposed he’d say that regardless, but he did sound good. Better than good. “Actually, I feel great.”

She peered at his shoulder. There were little smears of red over it, and on her fingertips as well. “I think I cut you with my nails.”

“Huh.” Roy examined her fingers. “Guess I did bleed, after all.”

He didn’t seem bothered, but Laura was disconcerted. “I never lose control like that.”

“I’m flattered. You’re sexy when you lose control. Claw my back all you like. I don’t mind.”

“You didn’t tell me you were into masochism,” she teased.

“Laura, I’m into anything you want to do to me. Go to town.”

“I just might take you up on that.” She kissed him, then toyed with a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead.

“That reminds me, I should probably tell you…” Roy began.

“What?”

“When I fell asleep on the sofa… I woke up when you put my head in your lap and stroked my hair.”

“Oh, God!” A burning hot blush engulfed Laura’s entire body. “You must think I’m so creepy.”

Roy picked up her hand and placed it on his head, moving her palm over his soft hair. “Not at all. It was sweet. It’s just that I sleep very lightly. If you touch me, I’ll wake up. I thought you should know, since I misled you about that before.”

“So tonight, if we’re both asleep and I roll over…” Laura began.

“Don’t worry about that. I won’t lash out at you or anything like that. I only jumped out of bed because you screamed.” He hesitated, frowning. “If I’m dreaming or if you shake me, I might wake up very suddenly. It could be startling. But if it’s a light touch, I probably won’t even move. Remember, when we were on the sofa, you didn’t notice that I’d woken up.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” Laura muttered. “I swear, I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“That’s why I didn’t let on that I was awake,” Roy confessed. “I figured if I did, you’d be embarrassed and stop, and I wanted you to keep going. I don’t know how creepy that makes me…”

Laura laughed. “At least we’ll be creepy together.”

Chapter Eleven: Roy

A Walk in the Woods

The snow was melting. The steady drip of water from the eaves was a counterpoint to the sizzling of butter in the frying pan. Sunlight struck golden highlights off Laura’s brown curls as she leaned over the counter across from Roy.

“Sure there isn’t anything you want me to do?” she asked.

“You can watch and admire,” Roy said, flipping the omelet.

“I watch and admire your great skill with a spatula,” Laura promptly replied. She peered into the frying pan. “Make sure the eggs are completely cooked through. I don’t like it when they’re squishy in the middle. Press down on them with the spatula.”

“No backseat cooking,” Roy ordered. “Do I look like the kind of man who’d serve a woman squishy eggs?”

“Well…” Laura pretended to ponder the question.

He turned so his body blocked her view of the frying pan, and stealthily pressed the spatula down on the omelet.

“I know what you’re doing!” Laura called. “You can’t con a con artist!”

Roy laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy. He’d woken up with not only the physical satisfaction of having had sex, but an overwhelming sense of release, even lightheartedness. After all the time he’d spent counting up everything that had gone wrong with him and his life, he could finally assess what was going right.

He’d regained a lot of his energy and strength; physically, he’d rate himself at about seventy percent. In a couple more days, he should be completely recovered.

He’d learned Laura’s secrets, and they didn’t make him think any less of her. If you had to be a criminal, you could do a lot worse than being Robin Hood. As for the bank robbery, she was even smarter, braver, and more heroic than he’d realized. He hoped he’d been able to help her with her confusion and guilt. But whatever she needed from him, he’d give, whether it was talking her down from nightmares or assuring her that she was beautiful and sexy.

Laura knew he was a werewolf and on the run, and she seemed fine with that. She was the only woman he’d ever dated whom he’d trust to watch his back. They enjoyed each other’s company. And they were outstandingly sexually compatible.

For the first time since he’d left the hospital-lab, he dared to let himself hope. Laura would drive him to DJ’s family’s place, and maybe he’d find DJ there, restlessly pacing around the backyard with a triple espresso and calling everyone he knew to try to figure out where the hell Roy was. Maybe DJ and his family would have some answers for him. Maybe even a cure. And maybe, just maybe, he and Laura might have a future together.

“Ta-da!” With a flourish, Roy slid the omelets on to the plates that Laura held out for him.

She put them on the table, and he poured out the coffee. Before she could lift her mug, he leaned across the table and kissed her. He tasted the mint of her toothpaste, felt the fluttered inhale of her startled breath, and let himself be lost in her warmth and eager passion and tangy scent. Her arms wrapped around him, her fingers played along his back, and her tongue slid along his.

When they broke apart, the knowledge that he could kiss her whenever he liked made him nearly dizzy with joy.

“The snow’s melting,” he said. “It’s warm out. Want to take a walk with me after breakfast?”

“If you promise to catch me if I slip on the ice.”

“Always.”

“Sure. Dad said there’s some nice hiking trails behind the barn.” She cut into the omelet, inspected it for squishy bits, then popped a bite in her mouth. “It’s great, Roy.”

He had gone all-out with the omelets, adding potatoes, onions, garlic, crumbled cheese, and salsa. The result was delicious, if not fancy. And definitely not squishy. He had to admit, Laura had been right about pushing down with the spatula.

Laura glanced at him over the rim of her mug. “So you think it’s safe to walk around now?”