McQuade: The Lone Wolf Takes A Mate (3 page)

“Well, little girl, why are you here?” E
ach syllable brushed his lips over hers, invading her intimate space. She could feel the frustration and rage crackling around him. So much power held tautly in place with the clench of a jaw. The most dangerous predator in the bar, he could hurt her in a hundred different ways. He stood there, hard, and powerful and unrelenting, demanding an answer.

The woman licked her lips and McQuade
thought he might have to take her in the dark hallway, up against the wall. He felt the strong pull of lust deep in his belly and his cock filled with blood. He didn’t know why his wolf was suddenly sitting up and howling. Over the last year the animal had been so quiet with regards to sex, the man had almost forgotten him. Now he felt the animal prowling, wanting to be unleashed so he come out and play.

He wanted to come out and play with t
he cute little piece of trouble that had her hair combed straight back from her face and secured in a ponytail. Even though he knew the style was in deference to the soaking she’d received, he had a feeling this was how she usually wore her hair. Most women wanted large puffy hair filled with all sorts of smelly sprays and gels. Something McQuade really disliked. Instead of looking severe on her though, the style emphasized the delicate, elegant lines of her soft face. She wasn’t pretty, but she had smooth satin skin and wide brown eyes that seemed to see straight into him.

Her pretty red mouth parted
on a soft breath and he was ready to come in his jeans. He had to get her out of the bar, and away from him. Far, far away. The attraction, the wanting—it was all happening too fast.

“Do you
know anything about shifters?”

His deep voice, soft in the dim hallway, made her shiver.
“Some.”

“Do you know
about scenting?”

“No.”

“Shifters use it to claim their partners.” He didn’t tell her scenting usually only involved a shifter rubbing against someone. Other forms were sharing of blood and biting. Biting for a wolf shifter wasn’t something saved exclusively for mating. Sometimes it was just about sex.

“Forever?”

Her high-pitched tone almost made him smile. “No.”

Not unless the shifter
kept biting the woman. And fucking her. And biting and fucking her at the same time.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” He bent closer filling his nost
rils with her scent. Rain, woman, and desire. He allowed himself a tight grin. She wanted him. “I’m going to bite that pretty little neck of yours, and then we’re going to walk back to the bar, sit down, and have a drink.”

“But I don’t
–”

“Shut up.
” His animal snarled at the harsh tone. He wanted to mark this woman. The man, however, was having a panic attack at what he was about to do. Something totally unnecessary. She carried his scent already just from the proximity of their bodies. But his wolf demanded and for once, his animal was in control. “Have you ever seen what a pride of lions can do to a woman? Or a pack of hyenas? Don’t think once those lions fuck you they’ll let you go.” His animal snarled at the thought of any man’s cock inside her but his own. “They won’t mind handing you over once they’re done with you. That is, if there’s anything left.” Was he trying to justify what he was about to do? His animal paced relentlessly, wanting him to get on with it. Needing the woman marked with his scent. “I’m good, baby, but I’m not good enough to out-fight two packs of horny shifters.”

McQuade
wasn’t really worried about the woman’s virtue or her safety. If need be he could out fight the horny shifters but he needed to scare the shit out of her so she’d never find herself in this situation again. The next time he might not be there to save her. His wolf growled, almost maniacal at the thought of her alone and unprotected.

O
nce they stepped back through the door, no one would doubt she belonged to him. Unless a shifter wanted to start a war, they didn’t mess with another shifter’s claim.

He assured himself what he was about to do was for her own safety. Not some overwhelming
, fucking
instinct
he couldn’t control. He kept his arms up and moved his hips away. If he touched her during the bite, he wasn’t sure what would happen. He knew some shifters bit women with no intention of ever mating. He’d never bitten a woman—not even in the throes of passion—and never with the intention of leaving his scent behind. It took more than one bite to complete the bonding, but if he bit her now, partially marked her, it would warn every shifter in the bar she was the property of a mean son-of-a-bitch. Him.

This was the best way. The only way.

The animal now had full control.

“Tilt your head back.”

Her eyes searched his as if seeking the truth to his words about the need for his actions. Without saying a word, she leaned her head back until it rested against the unpainted cement block wall of the hallway.

With her hair up and out of the way all
she had to do was move aside her sweater and that damn see-through blouse. His gaze drifted down. Had it dried any? Were her nipples still pushing against it? “Move your sweater. And your shirt collar.”

She held her gaze steady, holding him with her stare. Her fingers pulled back the clothing revealing the curve of her neck. He could have bitten her anywhere and left
his scent, but most shifters marked their mates where the neck meets the shoulder. Where the heavenly scent of a woman was the most potent.

McQuade’s canines extend
ed and he heard her sharp intake of breath. He couldn’t reassure her it wouldn’t hurt because he didn’t know. This would be his first bite. Bending his head, he lapped along the line of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin and the fresh taste of rain. When she moaned, he fisted his hands to keep from dragging her to him and grinding his cock against her soft belly.

He had to get control of his wolf.

His mouth closed over her soft skin as her scent flooded his senses, sending his wolf into a renewed frenzy. The sharpness of her blood flooded his mouth and he couldn’t control himself or his wolf. His arm closed around her waist, pulling her hard against his raging erection. Her hands clenched the cotton fabric of his shirt and he humped against her as the exchange took place. Her blood, his scent. He wanted to turn her around and tear that sedate skirt from her body and fuck her until she screamed.

H
is wolf howled.

Shaking away the
sexual fog, he eased his teeth from her flesh and licked the wound closed. He didn’t care if he’d bitten too deeply or too long and left a scar. She’d walked into this bar alone and she was damn lucky that was the only scar she’d leave with.

When he pulled back,
her hands didn’t release him. Her head fell forward, her forehead resting against his chest. He cupped her neck, the palm of his hand over the bite. It radiated heat. He titled her head backwards. Her eyes were closed and her breathing shallow. Hell. Was she going to pass out on him?

“Open your eyes, beautiful. Tell me your name.”

Her eyes slowly opened and for the briefest of seconds he could have sworn he saw a glint of gold in the dark depths. He blinked and it was gone—or had never been.

McQuade closed his eyes, biting down his panic.
He had not triggered the bonding.
There was no way. She had to bite him while he was buried balls deep inside her. And he was pretty sure he would have remembered that happening during the last few minutes.

“Your name.” His voice held a strong tone of command.

“Mmm, Rose.”

“I’m
McQuade.” His hand pressed against the small of her back. “Let’s go, Rose.”

Before I do something else incredibly stupid.

CHAPTER TWO

When they left the security of the hallway, Rose blinked, feeling as if she was waking from a dream. What the heck had just happened? Her hand rose to her neck and the place where his teeth had sunk into her. There was no blood, only some residual tenderness and heat. She snorted to herself. The freaking bite felt like it was on fire.

When he mentioned scent
ing and marking, she’d been all on board if it meant he had to rub himself all over her and she could walk out of here without being raped. Even when he said he’d have to mark her, she hadn’t seen a problem. A wild shifter telling the world she was his?

If that’s what it took to
get her out of this predicament, well, that’s what had to happen.

She knew a little about shifter mating. The biting had to continue, usually during the throes of passion.
It wasn’t as if he would continue to bite her, or take her, marking her as his forever. She sighed, a girl could dream couldn’t she?

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” She wasn’t really afraid anymore. She knew the man by her side would keep her safe. Hopefully, the scenting thing would make up for any lack of acting ability. She didn’t think he could fool anyone into believing he’d fallen into instant lust. Not the way she looked tonight—or any other night for that matter. Her extra pounds and average face had never enticed a man into her bed. The gorgeous specimen by her side wasn’t about to be an exception no matter how much she may wish it.

As they walked past the lions
, the shifters snarled but no one tried to stop them. Her step hesitated and McQuade’s hand rubbed the small of her back as if to reassure her.

Rose ventured another look at
the man as he grabbed his leather jacket from his abandoned chair. McQuade. It was a sexy sounding name, but a lonely sounding one as well. Unbidden, a rush of arousal hardened her nipples until they poked painfully against the still damp fabric of her shirt and bra. Heck, she’d been turned on since the first time she’d seen him. The wetness between her thighs was not a result of the rain.

The
stools around the bar were full; however, as they approached, two men got up to leave. McQuade made a quick grab for the stools but somehow she didn’t think anybody was going to fight him over them.

Fight?
Dear Lord, was she putting this man’s life in danger? She wasn’t brave enough to tell him she didn’t need his help. Well, she wasn’t stupid enough either. Putting one hand on the bar, she attempted to gain enough leverage to seat herself. The stool was tall and Rose was short. A regular occurrence she faced every day in a world that catered to tall, skinny people. There was no way to gracefully take a seat. She’d once ridden in a friend’s pickup truck and had to climb into the seat like a monkey. At least then she’d had hand holds to help. Before she could put a foot on the rail beneath the stool to haul her fat ass up, McQuade lifted her onto the seat.

“How’d you–”

“How’d I what?” His eyes were quizzical as he took the stool beside her. Again she caught his unique scent. Hell, had he turned her into a wolf? Her hand went to her neck again.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. Of course a shifter could lift her. They were stronger than human
s. Maybe having a shifter for a boyfriend wouldn’t be a bad idea. At least he could sweep her off her feet and carry her to the bedroom and then rip the clothes–

“Rose
.” The sharp sound of his voice brought her out of her fantasy.

“Mmm.” She was having trouble stringing two words together and for a moment she was afraid again. Did h
is bite contain some kind of drug? Wouldn’t that make more sense if he’d been a vamp? She put a hand to her head, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. She was hungry and cold. That was all that was wrong with her.

“Drink. What do you want to drink?” She realized the
bartender was waiting for their order.

“I tried to tell you in the hallway, I don’t have any money.”

McQuade’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you came out all alone on a rainy, God-awful night with no money?”

She bowed her head. “I get paid tomorrow.”

Meaning she had no money tonight.

McQuade felt like a fool. His life
was a simple one, but he never had to worry about money. He earned a decent salary and he’d made some good investments early in life when the stock market was a reliable money maker. He wasn’t frugal, but he wasn’t wasteful either. He remembered a time or two when his parents had scrambled to pay the bills. When the world hadn’t been quite so accepting of shifters and making a decent living had been difficult, if not impossible.

Shit.
“Bring her a coffee,” he ordered the bartender.

“This
ain’t Starbucks, dude. And there’s a two
drink
minimum.”

McQuade
growled. “Then make it an Irish coffee.”

“Sure thing.”

“Now tell me why you’re here, Rose.” Was she meeting a human? A shifter? His body tightened at the thought. If so, where the hell was he? She’d been within minutes of being taken and ravaged by a pack of lions and hyenas.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. As her hair d
ried, small tendrils were escaping from her ponytail and falling around her face. “My sister said she needed a ride.”

“So you just
got in your car and drove over a lonely stretch of road to a place you’ve never been before to collect your sister?”

“Yes.”

It sounded awful when he said it that way. But he didn’t know…

“S
he should never have asked you to come out on a night like this. She should have called a cab.”

“It would have been fine if I hadn’t had a flat.” Rose reached for the cup of hot coffee the bartender pla
ced in front of her and frowned. She’d always thought Irish coffee was a poor man’s latte served with whipped cream right out of a can. This didn’t even look like the bartender had added any cream.

She reached for t
he sugar. She excused her desire for excess sugar as medicinal. She could be going into shock. First a flat, then an averted attack, and finally the most sexually intense experience of her life. And it hadn’t even involved mouths or tongues or… Her hands shook a little as she tore open the four white packets.

After stirring in the sugar, s
he blew on the surface of her drink before taking a tentative sip. Her face screwed into a scowl. “Is it supposed to taste like that?”

“Have you ever had Irish coffee?”

“No.”

“Then it’s
supposed to taste that way.”

Rose arched her eyebrow. She was pretty sure the coffee had
liquor in it. She blew on it again. She knew what his next question was going to be and she didn’t think he would react very well to the answer.

“Have you called your sister?”

“No.” No use trying to lie.

“Give me your phone, Rose.”

With great reluctance, she retrieved it from the pocket of her sweater and slid it across the bar. His eyebrows rose when he picked it up and discovered it was turned off. He flipped it open, turning it back on. Right away the low battery warning sounded.

“No money, no damn phone. Do you have any sense, woman?”

She took another fortifying sip of the liquored coffee. The taste was definitely growing on her. “Obviously not since I’m still sitting here surrounded by shifters.”

“I’m the
only shifter you need to focus on, baby.” He fished in his pocket. “Use my phone to text your sister. The faster you get out of here, the better.”

Of course.
He couldn’t wait to get rid of her. Rose took the cell he handed her. His phone was the latest and fastest, which made telling him she didn’t know how to text even more embarrassing. “I’ll just call her, if you don’t mind.”

He looked at her with those dark eyes and heat swelled inside her. The man was way, way out of her league and she didn’t know what kind of game he was playing. He’d rescued her from the other men, but she didn’t know why. He certainly didn’t look like any white knight she’d ever imagined.

He was the bad boy who banged you so good you begged him not to leave.

Ro
se squeezed her thighs together.

“It w
ould be better to text. If she’s at a party, she’s not going to answer her phone, but she might look at a text and realize what time it is. Tell her if she wants a ride home, she needs to answer you pronto.”

“How do you know she’s at a party?” Rose certainly d
idn’t know where her sister was, but a party would have been her first guess.

“Any woman who asked you to meet her in a shifter bar is bound to be partying. Pretty heavily.
” He pointed at the phone in her hand. “Do it.”

Rose
fingered the black rubber cover protecting the back and edges of the phone and kept her head lowered. “I…don’t know how.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to text.”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” He jerked
the phone from her hands. “Can your sister even get a text?” At her short nod, he demanded her sister’s phone number and with a few quick movements of his fingers, the message was sent.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“No, not really.” She knew she was trying his patience, but she prayed it would last long enough for him to get her home.

“Rose.” He said her name with
the same exasperation her father had used when she’d avoided the truth. Her falsehoods had usually been in defense of her sister when they were in their teens. Oh, how she missed her parents.

“I can’t afford a data plan on my phone and my sis
ter’s.” It didn’t matter that of the two, Rose really could use it for her work. More than once her supervisor had been angry she had to call Rose about a change in schedule or an unexpected meeting instead of texting her along with all the other nurses.

“How old is your sister?
”

The deep
timbre of his voice made her insides clench. She put her cup down with a thump. Alice was two years older than Rose. Somehow she didn’t think that would sit well with this man, so she kept her mouth shut.

He pulled her ponytail, forcing her
head back. Someone moved behind him. The lions were either getting ready to leave or they were getting ready to attack. What if they didn’t care that she wore McQuade’s scent? What if they still thought she was up for grabs? “I think you should kiss me now.”

Her soft eyes pleaded with
him. She didn’t want to get hurt and she didn’t want him to get hurt either. She had a feeling he would protect her from anything, even at his own peril.

His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue dipping inside.
His touch was firm and forceful but not rough or hurting. Their tastes mingled together, coffee, liquor, and the faintest hint of beer. He was so dominating, so male, it made her dizzy. Rose’s limited experience had not prepared her for the electrifying touch of this man’s lips. The stimulating feeling spread from her lips to her breasts to her pussy. She pressed her legs together again and moaned into his mouth.

It had been a thigh-clenching
kind of night.

*****

McQuade ended the kiss before he gave into his baser instincts and lifted Rose to the counter and licked the cream he could smell weeping from her pussy. The scent of her arousal filled the air and he knew every shifter in the bar smelled it. There was no doubt about his claim now and some of the shifters immediately backed off. Others, like the jerk-wad lion, continued to try and intimidate him by posturing and grumbling behind him. His shifter ears heard the muttered threats, thankful that the woman sitting next to him could not.

He basically had two choices.
He could call her a cab and stay here at least thirty more minutes while they waited for it to arrive, surrounded by shifters who’d like nothing more than to rip his throat out, or he could take her home on the back of his bike. His wolf paced inside him, anxious to get the woman away from the potential threat. The man was inclined to agree with the animal this time even though it was still raining and the roads would be wet. The backsplash would only add to the discomfort she’d experience. She’d be miserable.

At least she’d be
alive. While he had no doubt he could take out each and every lion shifter present, his odds diminished greatly if they came at him as a unified pack. Which was very likely. Some of the other shifters and even a few humans might step in to help him, but he couldn’t depend on it. Rose’s safety was too important. His wolf wholeheartedly agreed even though the man wanted nothing more than a good fight to relieve whatever it was that had been eating away at him since he’d bitten her in the hallway.

H
e’d intended to take nothing more than a brief taste, only enough to warn the other shifters away. Then she’d sighed and melted into him and he hadn’t been able to resist a deeper, longer drink.