Savage Revenge (8 page)

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Authors: Shelli Stevens

BOOK: Savage Revenge
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As he flicked his tongue against hers in teasing, gentle strokes, she began to answer back. The hands that had tried to push him away a moment ago now kneaded and stroked the bare skin of his shoulders.

The control that he always prided himself on—that had been so tightly wound—began to unravel. His thoughts grew hazy, and for a moment he couldn’t be sure who was actually in control. Who was seducing who.

He reached down and caught her ass, lifting her easily onto the edge of the sink and stepping between her thighs.

Her legs wrapped around him and the intimate heat of her body cradled the now rock-hard flesh of his dick.

Christ, he was losing it, but he couldn’t stop.

The shifter inside him was near the surface and riding the rush. If the basic human male’s instincts were to eat, fight and fuck, then the shifter male’s instincts for those were twice as strong. Nathan had managed to scratch eating off the list, but the other two were long overdue. There was adrenaline running through his blood, and fighting Sage wasn’t remotely an option.

But maybe fucking her was.

Delving his hands into the damp curls of her hair, he tugged her head back and pulled his mouth from hers.

He trailed slow kisses down her jawline. Exploring. Tasting. Feeling her heart beating in the pulse beneath his tongue.

“Nate…” she whispered, sounding almost drugged, and making no move to stop him now. “Is…
oh
…is Nate really your name?”

“Nate. Nathan. Larson. Sir. I get them all.” How was she still able to talk? Maybe this was a good time to try and get information out of her. “You’re a writer?”

While waiting for her to answer, he teased the wildly beating pulse in her neck again with is tongue.

“Oh…yes.” She made a soft, fluttery sigh. “Romance novels.”

Nice
. He hid a smile but was all too aware of the curve of a full breast that was just inches from his chin. The need touch it—to taste it—was so fierce and blatant he felt like a horny teenager.

But even as he moved his hand to touch her, he flashed back to last night and the way the musician had groped her. The way she’d flinched and drawn back.

Slow down, asshole. Remember, this is about seduction to gain her cooperation, not about getting your rocks off.

He trailed his kisses lower, to the curve of her breast above the sleeveless cotton dress. Then he paused. Waited to see how she’d react. If she’d push him away, freeze up or…

The whimper she made was husky and needy, and her back arched just slightly to lift her breast higher toward his lips.

It was the only invitation he needed to tug down the dress and thick fabric of her bra and bare her to him. Her breast spilled free, so milky white and full. The strawberry-colored tip was already hardened.

Shit. If he’d had even the slightest bit of control left before, it had just disappeared.

 

She was out of her mind. Out of her ever-loving mind, because though her brain was screaming at her to do something logical—like smash the coffee mug in the sink over his head—her body had different ideas.

Instinct and desire had taken over. Nothing mattered right now—
nothing—
except having Nate’s mouth on her breast.

His chest rumbled in a low growl as his thumb stroked over the nipple.

Pleasure jettisoned through her and she couldn’t stop the high-pitched gasp, or the way her chest thrust closer to him.

What was wrong with her? Leaf had touched her breast last night and it had been nothing like this. She’d been so distracted, so uncomfortable, it had been more like a clinical doctor’s touch than a lover’s.

But what was happening to her now was mindless. Passion on drugs. God, she needed it. Craved it.

She bit her tongue, determined not to call out his name and beg him to suck on her, but oh she wanted it so badly. Needed to know what it felt like.

Her request would’ve been too late anyway, because his head dipped and he finally drew her into his mouth. His tongue laved over the tip before he abandoned the sweet torture and sucked her nipple hard.

Pleasure shot in a line from her breast to between her legs, starting an ache that could only be resolved in one way.

It was all so new. So completely overwhelming and incredible, that she was so tempted to keep going. To see how far this went—and while the writer part of her brain would chalk it up to research, she knew the other side was just plain primal urge.

Even as he nibbled and flicked and sucked, she knew she had to call a halt to this.

She opened her mouth, ready to tell him to stop, trying to get the willpower to say the words.

He lifted his head before she could. His mouth slashed into a grim line as he tugged her bra and dress back into place.

“This isn’t going to solve anything,” he muttered.

Her cheeks filled with heat and she turned her gaze away. Of course it wouldn’t, and now, as the seconds ticked by and common sense filtered back in, she wanted to smash the coffee mug over her own head.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me.” It was lame, but she couldn’t stop the husky accusation.

“No.” The word was hard. Cold. “I said I wouldn’t force you, Sage. I’m an alpha. It’s in my nature to take what I want, when I want it. And you challenged me.”

Her gaze flew back to his and she saw the warning there. She had a sudden sense of what it must be like to be under his command.

“You’re putting this on
me
? That’s bull crap. You shouldn’t be able to use the alpha excuse to bypass respect and human decency—”

He caught her chin in a hard grasp and her words trailed off on a squeak.

“Don’t finish that thought, Curls.”

Why not
? Anger sparked in her belly against the flutter of nerves. “Look, you’re not
my
alpha.”

“You sound like a five-year-old.” He flashed a hard, humorless smile. “And you
will
show respect to an alpha—any alpha—it doesn’t matter whether you’re in their pack or not.”

Good God he was a pain in her ass. All of the alphas were. They were so overbearing. So arrogant. So damn dominating.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Nate went on before she could reply. “But don’t go throwing a shit show because you’re self conscious about the fact that
you liked it
. That if I hadn’t stopped things I’d be fucking you until your eyes were crossing.”

She blanched, before the heat stormed back into her cheeks. “You’re crude.”

“Get used to it.”

“It was a physical response,” she ground out. “I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t feel good—because clearly it did. But I’m
not
going to lose my head over you. Over this situation.”

“A little late for that.”

“And if you think seducing me will make me trust you, then you’re wrong,” she continued, ignoring his jab. “What you just did—
we just did
—makes me realize you’re not above sexual manipulation.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes before his gaze hardened. She’d been dead on, and it hurt her heart a little to realize it.

Of course his touching her hadn’t been motivated by passion. That stuff happened in the books she wrote, but not so much in reality.

Oh, he was far more dangerous than she’d originally thought. He didn’t need to force her—clearly he was skilled at seduction. The emotional mess that would come with having sex with him was something she couldn’t risk.

Not that she’d be stupid enough to have sex with her captor. Though she’d been pretty close to it a minute ago.

God, there was a name for this. Stockholm Syndrome? Yup. She was going with that. The only rational excuse.

Seeing the hard glitter in Nate’s dark eyes as he stared at her made a lump form in her throat. Had he even felt anything while he’d been touching her? Or had it all been a means to an end?

Was she easier managed if she fell in love with him?

Fell in love…?
Crap, her thoughts needed to just stop. A hazard of what she wrote, no doubt.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sage.” His words were quiet, but firm with warning. “My intention is to see you through this safely. But if you do anything to threaten me, to try and out me, things might not be so amicable.”

“This is amicable?”

“Seeing as you’re alive? Unfucked? Yeah. That sounds pretty damn amicable.” He stepped back from her and helped her down from the counter. “Let me see your wrists.”

Without waiting for her to show him, he’d caught them and pulled them in front of her.

“Nicely healed already. You must have good shifter genes.”

She grunted. “They’re decent enough.”

“Good.” He nodded toward the other room. “So now’s the part where I need your help.”

Hmm. Of course he did. She stayed silent as he led her to the computer and gestured for her to sit down.

Immediately her gaze was drawn to the article on the screen about a woman found dead in Oregon.

“Hang on a second.” He reached past her and quickly closed the window, which left an Amazon screen up showing that an order had been placed.

“Did you buy something?”

“Picked out some clothes and paid to have them overnighted.”

“Wait,” she paused and tilted her head slightly. “But you don’t have any money. Unless you’re hiding a credit card somewhere the sun doesn’t shine.”

“You left yourself logged in. Didn’t even ask for your password.”

“So you’re saying
I
paid for you to get new pants?

“Yes.” He pursed his lips and nodded. “You made it pretty easy for me actually. Though even if it had asked for your password, I’m sure a quick search would’ve revealed a document full of passwords saved on your computer.”

“Of course not. That would make me stupid.” Which apparently she was, because, yes, she did have a password spreadsheet saved in a miscellaneous folder.

She willed her face not get hot again in a telltale sign of guilt.

“How much clothes did you buy?”

“Just a couple pairs of pants and a few shirts. I’ll pay you back first chance I get.” He shrugged. “Look, you said naked men made you uncomfortable, so I fixed it. By tomorrow it won’t even be an issue.”

By tomorrow. Unease crept in and she turned her head from the screen to look up at him.

“How long do you intend to be here, Nate?”

His expression darkened, became unreadable. “As long as I need to be.”

That wasn’t reassuring, not even a little bit.

“Does your pack have a website?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Go ahead and type in the URL.”

Irritated by the demand, because clearly it wasn’t a request, she typed in the website and hit enter.

The homepage loaded as an ambiguous looking hiking page.

“Log in.”

Sage ground her teeth together but obediently hovered the mouse over the upper left-hand corner where the login button was designed to be invisible.

Quickly she logged in and then pushed the keyboard away from her.

“There. Hope it has exactly what you need, buddy.” Okay, maybe she was acting like a five-year-old.

“All right. I’m going to take your spot there.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and she scooted out of the seat.

She stuck close, though, driven by the curiosity to see what he was looking for on her pack’s website.

She watched as he clicked through a series of pages, and then paused on the one that seemed of interest to him.

Announcements and bulletins. He didn’t click though, just stared for a moment at the titles that were hyperlinked to the stories.

“Why don’t you go make us some breakfast, Sage?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You said you were hungry.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make us breakfast as if we were having a cozy little morning together,” she said tersely.

His fingers tightened around the mouse he held—to the point she feared the plastic device might explode.

“Fine. Don’t make food, but give me a second to read over this.”

Even though his words were clipped, she could tell he was trying to be patient with her. Trying not to lose his temper.

“What is it that you don’t want me to see, Nate?”

When he didn’t answer, she scanned the topics under the bulletins and one caught her eye.

Wanted Shifter.

Her breath caught and she stared at the hyperlink. She wanted to read what was on that page. It would answer all her questions.

Even knowing he might stop her, she reached past him and placed her hand over his on top of the mouse. He made no move to brush her away, and so she guided his fingers to click on the link.

The page opened. She took in several things at once. Nate’s picture—huge and in the middle of the page—followed by a smaller picture of a beautiful redhead.

Phrases started popping out at her.

Most of the pack slaughtered, women and children included.

P.I.A Agent Nathan Larson is extremely dangerous and unstable.

Oh my lord. Nausea rose inside her and the room began to spin.

Who was this man who’d taken over her house and held her hostage? Who, for a moment, she’d felt shockingly drawn to.

She was going to be sick.

He wasn’t on the run because of some bank robbery or petty theft. Nate was being accused of murder. Mass murder.

“I…you know…” She swallowed hard and stumbled away from him. “I think I
will
go make that breakfast actually.”

Chapter Eight

Nathan didn’t say anything, but let Sage scurry off to the kitchen—shaking and paler than usual.

He couldn’t blame her. He knew it looked bad—hell it was bad. He stared at what was the equivalent to an Old West
Wanted
flier.

So it had gone out in an all-points bulletin to the shifter communities. He was lucky he’d taken refuge while he had, or it would’ve been a matter or time before someone would’ve recognized him and reported him.

He kept reading and his stomach clenched. “Fuck.”

Or maybe somebody already had. There was a report that he’d been spotted in the beach community of Lincoln City Oregon.

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