Reach for the Sky (Wolffe Peak Book 1) (3 page)

His mouth crooked at the corner, his gray eyes twinkling with restrained humor.

“This isn’t funny!” Ire crept up the back of her neck.

“To you.”

The bitter taste of fresh blood coated her tongue. It wasn’t until then that she realized she’d bitten into her lip in frustration. “Look—”

And then he was walking again, blatantly ignoring her attempt to claim control of the situation. Sky snapped her mouth shut, her teeth grinding as she stalked behind him. Sadly, her anger seemed incapable of distracting her libido, because damn, the man had an ass finer than rump roast. She swallowed and forced her eyes above the belt. No good could come from allowing her gaze to drift.

“Why don’t we start with you telling me who your alpha is?”

Sky snapped her eyes up, noting that comical arch of his brow as he watched her from over his shoulder. And didn’t that bust her chops, getting caught scoping out his ass like a randy school girl.

“I don’t have one,” she grumbled.

His deep laughter echoed through the trees. “Really.”

“I’ll have you know that I can take care of myself. I answer to no alpha.” Chin high, she made a show of ignoring him as they pressed forward.

“Ah, a feminist,” he said as he continued through the foliage, his steps even and controlled.

Sky’s mouth dropped. The nerve! “Just because I’m not a member of a pack doesn’t make me a feminist! And say I was, what business is it of yours?” The bastard had no idea what had led her down this path, nor was she about to educate him in such matters. Her fingers clenched into a fist, and she found herself wondering if socking him in the jaw again was worth another fracture. She’d heard the crunch the moment she’d smoked him back there with her dusty right hook, but thankfully, werewolves healed fast. The bones had begun mending the moment she’d jerked back her hand. “And who the hell do you think you are? It’s none of your business—”

A warning growl cut through the trees. Sky swallowed her words, and snapped her mouth closed with a click. What the hell was she thinking, scolding an alpha like that, especially one like Wyatt? Independence didn’t mean she was safe.

He turned to face her, stalking backward through the bushes, all bunched muscles and a dark tapestry of tattoos and menacing scars. “So, what does that make you, then?”

She blinked. “Huh?” Eloquent.

“If you aren’t a feminist,” he repeated, “then what are you?”

So, he didn’t know who she was then. She shoved away the disappointment, but she should have expected as much. If she recalled correctly, Wyatt kept to himself and rarely ventured into the human world. Of course, no amount of placating soothed the sting to her ego.

Raking her hair back from her brow, she sighed. “Really tired. I want to go home, if you don’t mind.” Home. She hadn’t set foot in her little house in more than a week. And tonight, her only intention was to snatch a few hours of sleep before she needed to leave for the airport, again. But Wyatt didn’t need to know that.

“Where do you think we’re going?”

We? She swallowed her whimper before he heard it. The last thing she wanted was to involve him. This was her problem, not his. Hell, the human police were already involved; she didn’t need his help on top of it. “Uh, thanks. But I don’t need an escort—”

Wyatt interrupted her with another growl, his gray eyes as dark as slate when he turned to glare at her. “You’re getting one.”

Her eyes fluttered shut and she sucked in a deep breath. All right. She could work with this. It wasn’t as though he was going to force his way into her home and tuck her into bed. She snorted at the thought of the big bad wolf swaddling her in blankets and fluffing her pillows. Not in a million years.

“Here.”

Something large and black swatted her in the face. The clean scent of soap mixed with fur filled her nose as she batted Wyatt’s T-shirt away. “What in the world?”

“Put it on,” he ordered as he gathered up his remaining clothes from the ground. “Then we’ll go find your clothes.”

Grateful for something to wear, she yanked the soft cotton down over her head as he slid into his pants. The hem reached the tips of her thighs, barely covering the lower curve of her ass. “I look ridiculous.”

Wyatt lifted his head, his hard expression vanishing in the wake of something a touch more primal. With a cocked brow, Sky took a second glance, her cheeks heating at the sight of her bare legs peeking out from the dark material. All right, so maybe ridiculous wasn’t the right word. And if the crook of his mouth was any indication, Wyatt didn’t think so either.

Clad only in his jeans and boots, Wyatt led her through a dark labyrinth of trees, his silence unnerving. Sky secured her hair into a low knot with a thin stick, intent on asking where he was leading her, when a flash of chrome and crimson caught her eye.

“Oh no, no, no.” She shook her head and kicked her heels into the lush earth. “You’re insane if you think I’m getting on that thing with you.”

Wyatt snaked a large hand around her waist and yanked her closer to his boldly designed motorcycle. “What’s the problem?”

She shook her head, her mouth a grim line. “What’s the problem? How about the fact that I’m hardly dressed! I can’t plant my bare ass on your bike.” She whimpered at the thought of riding behind him, her crotch pressed up against him. If ever there was a reason to be embarrassed…

“You want to go home, don’t you?”

“I can walk.”

His other hand cinched around her waist and held her steadfast next to the seat. “This is faster.”

“Stop manhandling me! You’re not going to convince me to get on that thing.”

A sexy grin tugged on his scarred mouth, and, for a brief moment, Sky was stunned. The man was intimidating and powerful, and the sight of him grinning robbed her of breath. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’ll know when I’m manhandling you. Let’s go. I don’t have all night.”

She squeaked and fidgeted in his grip. “I—I don’t need a ride, really. I—”

Wyatt jerked her against him with a grunt. A sharp squeal of protestation fell from Sky’s lips the moment he lifted her in the air and deposited her on the back of the bike. “Stop complaining. Like I’d let you walk home alone, ass bare to the rest of the world. What kind of a bastard do you think I am?”

Before she could answer, he straddled the bike before her. The motion knocked her forward until her naked thighs cradled his. Heat rushed to her face and she wriggled backward, attempting to place a little distance between them. But then he fired up the bike, the engine roared to life, and they took off.

He was trapped in his own personal hell.

Yup, that was the only explanation. Whatever spiritual bodies reigned on high were having the time of their lives yanking his puppet strings around. If Sky squirmed one more time, she couldn’t hold him responsible for his actions. Because damn if he couldn’t feel the heat of her thighs through his jeans. He’d only met the girl, but there was no denying his desire to pin her against a wall and have his way.

It didn’t help that she still wore his T-shirt. Thank the Lord for the wind. If he had to smell his scent on her…his gut tightened. Worse, they hadn’t been able to find any of her clothes or the bag she’d dropped mid-shift. Sky had assured him that she’d kicked her pants aside into the middle of the street. Her bra and panties might have been destroyed by the sudden shift, but she remained adamant that her other clothing had survived.

So, where were they?

Their tumble in the leaves hadn’t lasted longer than ten minutes, and the streets were deserted, middle of the night as it was. There was a slight chance that someone had picked them up, but Wyatt didn’t believe that. People were innately ignorant to anything that didn’t involve themselves. If they saw a pair of jeans discarded in the middle of the street, they’d quirk a brow, mutter something about
kids these days
, and move on with a quick shake of their heads. Of course, there was one
other
viable option—one that disturbed him on a whole new level. Whoever had been following her had taken them. And wasn’t that creepy as all fuck?

Sky’s light tap on his shoulder drew his thoughts back to the present. He stole a quick glance backward to find her staring at the house at the end of the road.

“There.” She mouthed the word, her finger pointed toward it.

With a nod, Wyatt geared down and came to a stop next to the curb. A quick nudge and the kickstand slipped down. Only then did he drop his hands to his thighs and stare up at the small, split-story ranch house. “This your place?”

She hopped off the bike and tugged down his shirt before nodding. “Home, sweet home.”

Sweet was right. All pink trim and frilly yellow curtains fluttering in the windows, complete with a white picket fence that surrounded a stone bed full of lilies. Pink trim. Yellow curtains. Flowers. He slid her a sideways glance. Pink and yellow didn’t seem her
thang
. Now, black…black was her color. His T-shirt assured him of that. Not to mention that she knew how to fight; his jaw still ached from that knuckle sandwich she’d fed him earlier. She seemed more badass than Rambo—this house did
not
fit the girl.

’Course, he could be wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time. Shrugging, he started for the front door. Who was he to judge? For all he knew, this was her mother’s house or something. That, or her decorator needed to be fired. ’Cuz, damn, it was like Barbie threw up all over this place.

Wyatt took two steps at a time as he climbed the stairs to the front door.

“What are you doing?” A thread of panic wove through her voice a second before her thin fingers grazed his arm.

Wyatt cocked his head and stared down at her. “Seeing you inside?” Sure, he was a tattooed Neanderthal who rode a motorcycle and ran a werewolf pack, but his momma didn’t raise no fool. Everything about this little wolf screamed frightened. He wasn’t leaving until he checked every last cranny in her house.

“I’m fine!” She forced a nervous laugh. “I’m sure I was imagining things.”

Wyatt snorted. Pushing him away only made his decision that much clearer. Ms. Callahan was hiding something, and no amount of excuses would convince him otherwise.

“I’m going inside,” he informed her. “You can either tag along or wait out here.”

Rage flushed her cheeks, and
boy howdy
, if he didn’t enjoy the sight of her riled up.

“No manners,” she hissed, eyes pinched at the corners.

“None whatsoever. So, we doing this?”

Her head tilted back and she stared up at him with resignation in her eyes. “Do I have a choice?”

“Now you’re clueing in, darling.” Because, no, she didn’t. Alpha meant doing what he wanted when he wanted. And what he wanted was to scope out the woman’s place and find out what she was hiding. Two birds, one stone.

A growl scraped past her throat as she shoved past him and punched a number into her keyless entry. Wyatt couldn’t have helped the smile that crooked his mouth even if he’d wanted to. Something about that sound amused him—like a little pup trying to make her way in the big bad world. Adorable.

He froze on her stoop and blinked. Adorable? No. There was nothing
adorable
about defiance. His mood took a foul turn. “Hurry up.”

Another growl. This time, it ruffled his hackles. But he held his tongue. Now wasn’t the time for a lesson in proper behaviour or protocol.

The lock clicked and Sky popped open the door.

Wyatt’s lungs deflated and before either of them could step a foot within the house, he grasped her around the waist and swung her off the porch, landing in the plush grass below with her back against her house.

“What the—”

He clapped a hand over her mouth and then leaned toward her. “Shh. Don’t you smell that?”

She rolled her eyes before mumbling, “All I smell is you.”

Wyatt’s gaze flicked to hers, his stomach warming with the thought of her taking in his scent. Fending off a shiver, he leaned forward until his lips brushed the shell of her chilled ear. His jaw ached with the desire to nibble on her lobe. “I’m going to remove my hand. Don’t make a sound.” He glanced at her once to ensure she understood. Glassy eyes met his, bright with fear.
Great
.

His fingers trailed over her lips as he drew his hand away.

She immediately scented the air. “Is that…?”

He silenced her with a sharp breath, then lifted his nose to the air.
Blood
. But more than that, the pungent stench of death slapped him in the face. Wyatt glanced down at the terrified woman pressed against his chest, trembling beyond control as she recognized the unpleasant aroma.

Someone had some ’splaining to do.

***

Sky ripped her gaze from Wyatt’s and stared up at the small house that had once felt like home. Now, it was nothing. Her stalker had breached her personal sanctuary and marked it as his, like he had everything else in her life. A hot rush of tears congealed in her throat, but she swallowed them, determined to remain strong.

Wyatt set her aside and hopped back up onto the porch. “Stay here, all right? I’m going to have a look.”

A beaten whimper fell past her lips. Stay out
here
? In the dark? Alone? But he vanished into the shadows of the house before she could respond.

Sky’s breath caught the moment he disappeared. The night pressed in on her until she thought she might scream. She jumped at the sound of her neighbor’s rickety gate slamming shut, her hand rising to cup her throat. “Wyatt?”

A quiet sound came next, a slight
scratch
, like nails running down glass. Sky squeezed her eyes shut and backed into the side of the house, her breath lodged in her throat. What if he was out there, watching? Fear chased up her spine and forced her low into the garden. Knees tucked into her chest, she clapped her hands over her ears, if only to silence her thoughts.

She shook her head and buried her face against her legs, the sweet scent of lilies mocking her. She couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t handle the letters and phone calls. More than once, she’d changed her phone number—the house landline and her cell. Now, Shane checked and logged her messages to save her the anguish. He’d been her one steady rock in all this, and she was beyond grateful to him.

The fevered tears she’d been fighting slipped down her cheeks. She’d thought herself stronger than this. Her emergency bag sat next to her fridge, packed with everything she could think of, ready for a quick escape. All she had to do was grab it and run.

With a hiccup, Sky lifted her chin to find the doorway wide open. The house was dark-as-night, but she didn’t need any light; the faint glow from the street lights would suffice. As for the alpha, she couldn’t hear him at all. It was worth the risk.

Sky sucked in a tremulous breath and crept out of the lily garden on her hands and knees. One quick dash up the porch steps, snatch the bag, and then she’d be gone. Screw the alpha. It almost seemed too easy.

Her feet and hands hit the stoop and she bolted into the entryway. Her pack sat exactly where she’d left it, between the pantry and the fridge. Relief bloomed in her chest the moment her fingers latched onto the strap. One sharp tug and the bag came free.

Sky whirled on her heel and froze at the sight of a shadow hunkering in her doorway. She sucked in a deep breath and released a bloodcurdling scream.