Legacy Found: Legacy, Book 3 (10 page)

She shivered, trying not to remember Steve Macmillan’s face. He looked a lot like his father had all those years ago when he’d captured her. Tom Macmillan had been intelligent, strong and as mean as a snake.

“Don’t think about it.” Shelley grabbed a paper-covered bar of soap and tore off the packaging, tossing it on the floor outside the shower. She worked the sliver of soap into a lather and started rubbing, working her way from head to toe until she felt clean.

James was in the other room listening to her taking a shower. Her nipples tightened, becoming little red nubs. She put her hands over them, but it didn’t ease the growing ache inside her. If anything it made things worse.

Shelley didn’t understand. She knew what physical arousal was. Had experienced it before in her life. And she hated it. Because of a biological reaction, she’d accepted a man she hadn’t even known. After that, once a year, she’d gone through a period where her skin had ached and her body had longed for sex.

Mentally, she hadn’t wanted a man, but her body hadn’t cared. She’d craved the feel of a thick cock working in and out of her pussy. Needed a man filling her.

Tears of shame rolled down her face. She’d hated that part of her nature most of all. Tom would always laugh at her after, calling her a whore. And he was right. What kind of woman would do the things she’d done?

Swiping at her cheeks, she thrust her head beneath the spray and quickly used the bar of soap to wash her hair. As she worked the lather through the slick strands, she wondered why she was having a physical reaction to James.

She wasn’t in heat. That’s what Tom had called it. Shelley had never named it, had done her best to ignore it. Had prayed each year that it wouldn’t happen. Nothing had helped her avoid it.

No, that time was at least several months away. But her body was responding to James anyway. There was no other explanation for it. She was attracted to him.

Shelley shivered and quickly rinsed the soap from her hair. She couldn’t afford to be attracted to anyone. She could only depend on herself. The only reason she was going with James was to get away from Steve and to take a job to earn some money. She wasn’t staying.

She twisted the taps, shutting off the flow. The silence was almost overwhelming after the patter of water against the porcelain tub. She grabbed one of the towels and quickly dried her body before wrapping it around her head.

The air was cool, causing goose bumps to race down her skin. It had nothing to do with the fact she was going to see James in a minute. At least that’s what she told herself.

Sighing, she pulled on a clean pair of panties and dragged her cotton dress over her head, doing up the buttons in the front. When she was done, she unwound the towel from her head and dried her hair as best as she could. When the towel was hanging from the rack and she’d cleaned up behind herself, she gathered her pile of clothing and unlocked the door.

There was only one light on, the one between the two beds. Not that she needed light to see. Her vision was astoundingly good in the dark. But it made the room seem smaller, more intimate.

It was also warmer. A blast of heat was released from the unit in the wall. It felt heavenly. James was stretched out on the bed closest to the bathroom and to the main door, so she scurried past him and carefully put her clothing away.

Not knowing what else to do, she pulled back the bedclothes and climbed beneath them, angling her body so she could see James. He looked so big and strong. He’d removed his flannel shirt and was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt. With his hands stacked behind his head, she could see just how enormous his biceps really were. The tight fabric of his shirt clung to his flat stomach. His legs were long, his thighs thick.

She swallowed when her gaze fell on the substantial bulge in the front of his jeans.

“How are you feeling?” His low voice broke the silence.

She swallowed twice before she could answer. “I’m okay.”

“Liar.” His tone was so gentle, so soft, it took her a moment to realize exactly what he’d said.

Shelley didn’t know how to answer his accusation so she kept her mouth shut. James was in a strange mood. Then again, she barely knew the man. Maybe this was his normal mood and the rest of the day had been an anomaly.

She was totally confused. By him. By herself.

“Tell me about yourself, Shelley. Where do you come from? Where have you been living?”

Bitterness coated her mouth. She’d known this was coming. Had anticipated it. But it surprised her how much it hurt. She’d expected better from James. Although why she should, she had no idea.

“Is that the price I have to pay for the room, for supper?” There was no suppressing the anger in her voice.

James rolled and pushed himself into a seated position on the side of his bed. Shelley jerked to the far end of her mattress, ready to jump out of bed if she needed to fight. Her heart was pounding. The sound of blood rushing in her ears made it difficult to hear. Waves of anxiety swamped her as she waited to see what James would do.

Idiot
, she berated herself. She knew better than to directly challenge a man. But the events of the day had left her reeling and she’d lowered her guard.

James sat with his hands clasped between his spread thighs, his head slightly lowered. “No. You don’t have to tell me anything. You don’t owe me anything.” There was no mistaking the angry edge to his voice.

Shelley relaxed ever so slightly, but stayed ready to respond to whatever situation arose.

He raked his fingers through his hair. It flowed easily and looked as soft as silk. Her fingers curled into fists beneath the blankets. She wanted to touch it to see if it was as soft as it looked.

James raised his head and his amazing hair settled around his shoulders. He looked tired. Frustrated.

Shelley nibbled on her bottom lip. He’d gone out of his way to help her today even though he obviously had business of his own to attend to. He’d also made her lose her job. Maybe he was just trying to settle the scales between them.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I just want to help you.” Bending down, he unlaced his boots and yanked them off, setting them neatly by the side of the bed. His socks followed.

The man even had sexy feet.

Unintentionally, she’d relaxed, moving closer to him again. She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to make sense of all the conflicting signals he was sending out. Or maybe it was her giving off mixed signals. Maybe she just wasn’t able to read the signs and understand what he wanted.

“Why?” She shifted and the sheets made a soft swooshing sound. “Why do you want to help me?”

James reached out and it took all her willpower not to flinch from his touch. His fingers lightly grazed the side of her face. “Because you’re a female in trouble, because you need it and because I can’t help myself.” He pulled his hand away, but her skin still tingled where he’d touched her.

“There’s something about you that attracts me on a physical and emotional level, Shelley.”

She tensed and her sex began to throb as if understanding his words. His gaze heated as he continued.

“I can’t remember the last time I wanted a female as much as I want you.” His hands fisted in his lap, his knuckles turning white. “But I would never take what you wouldn’t willingly give. I get the feeling that’s been done to you too many times in your life.”

A wave of shame washed over her and she turned her face into her pillow, unable and unwilling to face him. Memories materialize from the mists of her past to haunt her. Images of all the times she’d had sex when she was in the throes of heat, and times when she’d fought with everything she had, only to lose in the end. She whimpered, hating the weakness the memories brought with them. She wasn’t that woman anymore.

The mattress depressed and she knew James was sitting next to her. Could smell his unique male scent, wild and comforting all at once. Could feel the heat from his large body.

She was so cold. She was tired of being afraid. What would it be like to have sex with a man and have it be of her choosing? No biology driving her to seek a man, any man. No being taken against her will. What would it be like to be with a man solely because she wanted to be, because it was what she wanted?

Shelley couldn’t really imagine it. Nor could she do it. As physically drawn to James as she was, as aroused as her body was, emotionally she wasn’t ready for sex.

“It’s okay, Shelley.” James stroked the back of her head with his large palm, the motion comforting.

She turned to face him, giving him her full honesty. “I can’t. I’m not ready.”

He nodded. “I didn’t expect you would be. It’s too soon. But, Shelley,” he said with a slow, sexy smile, “that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying to make you ready.”

Her breasts ached where they brushed against the cotton of the dress she was wearing as a nightgown. Her legs shifted restlessly against the mattress. What did he mean by that?

She knew she was breathing way too fast. She parted her lips, licking the bottom one with her tongue. His eyes followed the motion, their color deepening, pupils dilating.

His hand stroked from her head down the curve of her throat. “So beautiful. So strong.” He brushed the edge of her jaw. Up and down. Up and down. The rhythm was slow and mesmerizing. Totally unrushed.

In her experience, men wanted sex fast and hard. She’d never had a man simply touch her face.

His thumb rubbed over her lower lip and she couldn’t resist letting her tongue touch it. He tasted salty and warm. He sucked in a breath but, other than that, he changed nothing, keeping up the slow, steady motion of his thumb.

“Let me touch you,” he coaxed. “You’re in control.” He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. He eased back, his eyes never leaving her face. “Let me pleasure you. Stroke your skin. Taste you.” He licked the curve of her jaw ending up near her ear and then captured the lobe between his teeth, tugging carefully. Her core tightened and released, sending a flush of moisture to the crotch of her panties.

She moaned, unable to help herself.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Do you like that?” His breath was warm and slightly moist against her ear. His tongue swirled around the whorls, flicking and teasing.

Her sex spasmed. Her legs jerked involuntarily. Her body was alive with sensation, humming with need.

She eased away so she could see him. His expression was intent, but not at all out of control. Could she do this? Could she let him touch her? Did she want him to?

That was a resounding,
yes
! She’d never felt anything like his touch before. It brought nothing but pleasure. She’d lived for around fifty years and never felt anything like it.

“I’m in control?” She had to be sure.

“Absolutely. You say stop and I stop.”

“And I’m not going all the way.” It sounded stupid to say it out loud, but she needed to hear him say it.

“That’s not what this is about.” James tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor, exposing a large expanse of hard, male chest. “This is all that’s coming off and that’s only so we’re both comfortable.” He stretched out on the bed beside her, his large body taking up most of the space.

Did she trust him to keep his word? It came down to that. Her mind might be telling her she was a fool to trust any man, but her heart was telling her to go for it. She didn’t know when, or if, she’d ever have this opportunity again.

Just once in her life, she wanted to understand what it was like to be close to a man who didn’t want to hurt her or take from her. Once she left James and set out on her own, she didn’t think she’d ever meet another man who would even tempt her to do something this wild and crazy.

There was something about him that called to her on a cellular level. It was as though she already knew who he was.

His patience was what finally tipped the scales. Even though he was obviously aroused, he waited, not pushing her, giving her time to think.

“Okay.”

He smiled then. Not a half-smile or a quirking of his lips, but a real one that made his face light up. God, the man was handsome.

“You won’t be sorry.”

She nodded, praying he was right.

Chapter Seven

James thought his cock was going to explode. Lying here so close to Shelley was pure pleasure and utter torture. But that was his problem. There was no way he would do anything to betray the trust she’d given him.

He still couldn’t believe she’d agreed. But he planned on taking full advantage of it. He’d go slowly, even if it killed him. His only goal was to bring Shelley to orgasm, to have her experience pleasure.

Every muscle in his body was tense, screaming for action. It was obvious that Shelley had been abused physically and emotionally and probably sexually as well. His instinct was to hunt down whoever was responsible and kill them.

And he would. Eventually.

But for now, he had Shelley warm and willing. He tugged at the covers she held tight in her hands. She released the death grip she had on them and he kept pulling until they were bunched around her waist.

He’d almost come in his jeans when she’d walked out of the bathroom wearing only a thin cotton dress. He could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it. Her breasts had swayed invitingly.

It had taken all his willpower not to pounce on her and drag her down onto the bed with him. But Shelley wasn’t like most female werewolves—sure of herself and her sexuality. She needed him to go slow. To let her set the pace.

Her breathing was fast, her chest rising and falling swiftly. He had to take her mind off what was about to happen, to make her lose herself in the erotic connection between them, to revel in the heat, the pleasure.

He leaned down and kissed her. Gently at first. Their mouths barely touching. He kept up the undemanding caress and was finally rewarded when her lips parted.

Taking advantage of that small break, he eased his tongue inside. She sucked in a startled breath but didn’t stop him. He stroked his tongue over hers, inviting her to touch, to play.