Seduced by a Shifter (5 page)

Fascinated by it’s seemingly benign interest she thought,
no wonder Rome asked if I was afraid of wolves.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” she dared to whisper aloud. The wolf cocked its head, opening its jaw a fraction, almost as if it was grinning at her appraisal. “Bet you drive all the girl wolves crazy.” Though she didn’t know for sure the animal was a male, he simply seemed too imposing, to big to be anything but. Now the wolf shook its head, as if denying her statement.

How odd,
Willow thought, drawing her brows together. “Can you understand me?”

The wolf didn’t move and Willow shook her head at her fanciful thoughts. “Of course you don’t.”

The door opened behind her and Rome stepped out. “What are you doing out here?” The wolf hunched down, a growl emanating from its throat.

Not daring to turn her back, Willow said out the corner of her mouth, “I don’t think he likes you.”

Rome stood at Willow’s side. “Who? Oh.” Not at all surprised, awed, or even wary that a huge wild animal with sharp teeth and claws growled not far from his tender flesh, Rome shrugged a shoulder. “He can dislike me all he wants as long as he knows where his place is.
Outside
.”

The wolf rose swiftly to his paws and Willow stumbled back, startled at the abrupt move. Then it turned, swishing its thick, fluffy tail in the air, and looped off into the forest. If Willow didn’t know better, she would have sworn that tail wave was the equivalent of a middle finger salute.

It made her grin, the human-like quality of the action. So entertained, Willow barely acknowledged Rome’s chastising words of leaving the cabin alone as he guided her back inside.

What a weird and wonderful place Woodcliff was turning out to be.

Wind ruffled Ben’s hair as he headed towards the far side of the ski lodge. The top part of the massive two-story building held a restaurant/bar and lounge for those who wanted to watch the skiers descending the slopes through the floor-to-ceiling windows in comfort. A large deck extended the whole length of the lodge, with severa
l picnic benches and patio heaters to provide another entertaining option. In the summer months, people escaped the heat of the cities and practically camped out on that deck, eating, drinking, and having a good time until they had to get back to their nine-to-fives, grumbling all the way.

To Ben’s thinking, a job that required him to be enclosed inside for eight hours a day, five days a week, was hell. It wasn’t just his wolf that wanted the freedom to move and run in the fresh air, because he knew plenty of shifters that handled indoor jobs with no problem. It was his personality. To come and go with relative ease, chat with everyone he came into contact with, and do it all in this beautiful setting? Yeah. It fit his friendly, easygoing manner perfectly.

As he stepped inside the crowded ski rental section located in the lower half of the lodge, he stopped to assist a family of five that were having trouble removing their snow- and ice-caked boots. Noticing the eldest daughter, all of maybe fourteen, peeking at him as he freed her feet, he sent her a wink, causing her cheeks to flush with embarrassment. Hearing the infatuated sigh of the young girl as he left the happy family had him grinning.

He walked behind the counter, slapping a co-worker on the shoulder in greeting, and passed through the storage area into another section of the lodge. Here they rented snowmobiles in the winter and quads in the summer.

Opening one of the tall metal cabinets along one wall, he withdrew two helmets, inspecting them for damage before laying them on the long workbench. He heard James, another co-worker and shifter, enter the garage and head in his direction. Shutting the metal doors, Ben sidled over to reach for a set of keys on the corkboard above the bench. “I’m taking number five out for a couple of hours.”

“Yeah?” James leaned a shoulder against the cabinet. “Don’t suppose you’re taking that chick for a ride.”

Ben’s fingers tightened around the pen he held to sign the vehicle out, knowing exactly of whom James referred to. Willow’s presence, and reason for it would have passed through the pack by now. “Don’t suppose I am.”

“Heard she was a looker and a dancer to boot,” James stated, his lips curling in a sly, cocky smile. “Bet she’s got some serious flexibility. I’m sure you’ll find out just how far she can spread her legs.”

Ben didn’t know how it happened, didn’t realize he’d moved faster than blink. All Ben knew was that he suddenly had James a foot of the ground, pinned to the front of the cabinet, claws out as he fisted the other man’s coat. Raging darkness filled his sight. “Don’t,” he snarled in the kid’s face.

James’s brown eyes were shocked saucers. His voice terror-leaden as he stammered. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it. Just joking. You know?”

Ben felt the burn in his gums, knew his fangs had dropped, ready to rip flesh apart. Some part of his rational brain kicked in to gear, throwing him into a flashback to when Dean had done the same thing to him when Ben had given Kaylie an overly interested look. That pause was enough for him to regain control of his beast, and ponder his unprecedented action.

It had to be Willow.

Ben had practically salivated when he’d drawn her scent into his lungs that first night. The second he’d taken her small hand in his he’d felt like he’d jumped into an inferno. Undiluted desire had pumped through his veins, so pure and hot he’d felt scorched. His beast had clawed at his mind, desperate to get its paws on her. For a few blinding seconds he’d forgotten everything: the others in the room, the circumstances, Pete and the snow bunnies,
everything
except the undiluted want that twisted his gut into so many convoluted knots.

Which wasn’t like him. Ben was always in control. He had to be, when his wolf was as strong as his. As a leader, the ability to hold back the beast was a necessity as well as a sign of strength and stability. Which he was poorly demonstrating at this moment by harassing a pup barely old enough to drink.

Ben slowly returned James to his feet, yet he didn’t allow the younger shifter his freedom. “Miss Yancy is a lady. One who has endured hell, and you
will
fucking speak of her with respect.”

James head bobbled in agreement. “Sure, Ben. You’re absolutely right. I let my mouth run away with my imagination.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’d better wipe Miss Yancy from your imagination. And make sure your horny little friends know the same. If you see her or come near her, you will be as respectful of her as if you’re speaking to your Lupa. You hear me?”

Though the fear began to recede from his eyes, James swallowed hard. “Most definitely.” More head bobbing.

Only when wolf and man were both assured the kid would do as instructed did his claws and fangs ebb back into his body. His anger cooled, Ben dusted James’s coat. “Sorry about the holes.”

“No problem.” James inched sideways, his voice thready and hesitant. “My fault for making an assumption. I just thought, well. You know.”

Lips tightened in irritation. Ben knew what the kid thought. His reputation as a ladies’ man, one he’d never instigated nor refuted, was biting him in the ass. It was all based on rumors and beliefs that made the younger male shifters look at him with admiration. Town gossip could be such a bitch. He hadn’t nailed every female that gave him a come-hither glance. He wasn’t that much of an animal.

Noticing how young James cautiously moved away, coupled with his unprecedented anger, had Ben re-evaluating that last thought. It seemed one female in particular was turning him into a beast. One whiff and that was all it took. Until he could sink his fangs into that sweet flesh and stake his claim, he’d probably remain more beast than man.

This little episode was bound to run through the famous Woodcliff gossip mill, spreading far and wide. By tomorrow, every shifter would know the redheaded dancer was off limits, giving him plenty of time before the full moon to finalize the deal.

Satisfied, Ben turned to sign his name on the check-out sheet. “Where you just coming back here to yank my chain?”

“Uh, what? Oh. No.” James seemed a bit discombobulated by the quick return of Ben’s friendly tone. “I was, uh, just double checking the time number seven and nine snow runners were rented out.”

Ben fingered through the listing. “Two-forty for an hour.” He looked up at the wall clock. “Three-thirty-five now.”

“Oh. Okay. They still have time.”

“Was there a problem?”

James shook his head, stopped. “Well, it’s just I thought I smelled alcohol when I walked past them to get another rental for a couple I was helping, but by the time I got to Gordon, his foursome was gone.”

Gordon was human and didn’t have a shifter’s super sniffer, but he knew better than to give anyone keys to a runner if there was any suspicion of alcohol use. It would be his job. And James didn’t say he was sure it was alcohol. If the breeze was blowing just right, a shifter could smell the alcohol from someone’s glass sitting on the upstairs deck.

“They protected?” Ben asked.

“Yes, sir. All helmeted up and everything. I at least saw that.”

Ben grunted, picked up the two helmets he’d picked out and headed for the side door, James in his wake. “If they’re not back in twenty, let Maureen know.” Maureen Kilner was their boss and co-owner of the lodge. Dean was a silent partner, having helped the woman out several years back when the economy began to tank and tourism dropped so much that Maureen had been close to losing the lodge.

No one could tell him his alpha wasn’t made of awesome.

Standing outside, James shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Will do. Um, is it all right to say have fun?”

Something in the kid’s tone made Ben glance his way as he hooked the spare helmet on the runner. Realizing the other shifter needed touch, especially after Ben’s outburst, he reached out with his free hand and ruffled James’s short, dark hair before straddling the seat. “What I need from you is to wish me luck. I’m gonna need all I can just to get the lady alone for five minutes.”

Appearing relieved that no hard feelings existed, James smiled. “Good luck, then.”

The engine roared to life and, after strapping on his helmet, Ben gave James a two-fingered salute. He eased through the lot, mindful of out-of-control skiers and pedestrians. Once clear, he increased his speed and took a right at the fork in the path. A minute later he left the path entirely and zipped through the forest, knowing the land like the back of his hand.

As he dodged trees he recalled that first night, and his shockingly powerful reaction to Willow. No one had ever told him what to expect should he encounter his mate, and the force of his desire had blindsided him.

But because he rarely took things at face value, especially something as important as his mate, Ben had let his wolf loose when he heard Willow at the back of the cabin. His senses might be extraordinary in human form, but as wolf? They were as keen as his wild brethren. He’d stripped in one of the empty cabins, leaving the door slightly ajar, and bounded into the night.

He’d been pleased she hadn’t run screaming when her beautiful blue eyes landed on his furry form. Then he’d been amused by her attempt at conversation. But it had nearly killed him when he’d forced himself to leave. The wolf had wanted to rip something bloody while Ben itched to plant a fist in the agent’s smirking face. Doing neither, Ben had made his way back to where he’d left his clothes, shifted and dressed, all the while his wolf seethed with helpless fury. Its mate was locked up all nice and cozy with another male, and it wanted blood.

As Ben lay alone in his bed later that night he tried to be logical. Mack and Josh had also touched her, so theoretically any one of them could have initiated the mating heat from that skin-to-skin contact. But neither Mack nor Josh had returned to the cabin for a deeper whiff.

The second evening only confirmed what Ben’s beast already knew. He’d stuck around after delivering Willow her medicine, playing cards, chatting, touching her every chance he could until Rome kicked him to the curb. Once again, Willow sneaked out while Rome was in the shower and Ben, finding how easily she accepted his beast’s unwavering stare, shifted. And stared. Devouring her with his eyes. Until Rome dragged Willow back inside.

Her scent was making both man and beast crazy. Ben wanted to shove his face in her neck and breathe deep. His wolf wanted to roll around in it until her lush sweetness coated its fur. But most of all, Ben wanted to bury his throbbing cock in her slick flesh, hear her screams of pleasure as he pounded out the pulsing ache inside her silken sheath.

With a groan he forced the image of Willow, naked, back arched in ecstasy as he thrust into her from behind. His mouth closing over her neck to sink his fangs in her flesh. Because that was doing nothing to cool his ardor and he didn’t want to show up at the cabin with a cock-stand.

Instead he recalled learning from Willow and Rome that she was, in effect, bait. A way to lure Valen to Woodcliff and make another attempt on Willow’s life. Nothing less would put Valen behind bars permanently. But both Ben and his wolf had other ideas. If Valen did come to town, they would do whatever it took to keep Willow safe. Which meant killing that which meant to destroy his life. Nothing less would satisfy.

Ben also found out Willow had never been skiing. He’d opened his mouth to offer to take her out for lessons when she rose and went to the sink. And she’d limped. The sight had caused a raw fury to haze over his vision. It had been Rome and his hard kick under the kitchen table that pulled Ben from the edge.

This morning he’d thought about the snowmobiles. It only held two so Catman would have to sit at the cabin while Ben whisked Willow away for some much desired alone time.

Snickering at the idea of besting Willow’s overbearing agent, Ben gunned the engine when he hit the clearing, snow spraying in long, graceful arches behind the runner as he angled toward the center cabin.

Curious at the sound of a revving engine, Willow left the kitchen
table where she’d been playing solitaire for what felt like years and opened the front door of the cabin. She didn’t need to see who was behind the tinted face mask of a helmet to know it was Ben. Her heart skipped a beat before jumping into a happy dance.

Thinking herself an idiot, she pressed her lips together and waited as he eased to a stop in front of her, killed the engine, and lifted off his headgear.

The cold,crisp air felt good on her face, though she did tuck her arms around herself for warmth. Rome liked his heat and kept the cabin almost too toasty for Willow. Today she’d felt overly warm, sneaking peeks at the thermostat to see if he’d raised the temperature, but he hadn’t. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with a cold.

“Something wrong with your truck?”

“Nah.” He ran a gloved hand over his bare head. “I know you’re not up to skiing just yet, but I thought you might like to take a ride with me.”

Willow flicked her gaze from Ben to the machine and back again, nibbling the corner of her mouth to keep from screaming,
hell, yeah!
“On that?”

Ben’s eyes locked on the small movement. “Come on. You need a break from your jailer.” A saucy wink. “You know you want to.”

Boy howdy, did she want to. She wanted
out
of the cabin. Having to plaster her body all over Ben’s backside was icing on the cake. It was a win-win scenario to Willow.

Before she could answer a male voice spoke behind her, giving her a jolt. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Anderson.” Rome grumbled. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Ben shrugged. “‘Bout an hour and if you think about it, it’s a great idea. Give you both a break.”

Willow turned slightly to keep both men in her sight, though she did give Rome puppy eyes. His nostrils flared slightly and he edged back. The action made Willow frown and she barely refrained from sniffing herself. She showered that morning and since she hadn’t done anything more strenuous than sit on her butt, she knew she didn’t stink.

“I won’t let anything happen to her, Felix, you know that.” Ben responded, his tone a fierce promise.

Willow was no longer tricked by Rome’s sleepy, slitted-eye gaze. He might seem content, on the verge of napping half the time, but she’d seen it too much over the last several days, cooped up in the cabin together as they were, to know differently. She’d come to understand the look meant several different things, mainly to hide what he was thinking. Possibly now he was analyzing Ben’s ability and willingness to protect her while out of his sight. With a reluctant nod he said, “Half hour, no more.”

The taut set of Ben’s jaw evaporated as he rolled his eyes in a mock display of exasperation. “Yes, Dad. I promise to have her back before curfew.” He pinned Willow with a captivating grin, skimming her figure from head to toe. When his eyes flicked back to hers, something in that piercing gaze caused a small thrill to tremble low in her belly. “I have a helmet for you, Will, but you need to get a coat and gloves.”

Excited, Willow dashed inside, snatching what she needed from the hall closet before Rome could change his mind. Or herself, for that matter, since the idea of being alone with Ben was both nerve-wracking and highly appealing. She shrugged into the coat and gloves as she stepped back outside.

Under the agent’s watchful gaze, Ben secured Willow’s helmet before repeating the action for himself, hen swung a long leg over the seat. “Now you. Put your feet here.” He positioned her when she sat behind him by placing his hands on her calves. Even through the thick material of her jeans she felt the strength in those hands and wondered what they would feel like on her bare skin. She shivered, feeling girly and gooey.

And ridiculous. Like a teenybopper receiving attention from the boy on whom she had a secret crush. Only Ben was a long way off from being a boy, and Willow’s waking libido was all needy woman.

“Hold on to me.”

Hyperaware of their intimate position, her legs pressed around the muscled length of his, her chest close to his back, she struggled to breathe properly. She placed her gloved hands on his waist, fisting his jacket as he started the engine.

“Ready?” he called back to her.

“Ready.” The word ended on a breathless squeal as Ben shot forward, the momentum sending Willow’s butt backwards on the smooth seat.

Ben stopped immediately and curved one arm around, pressing her lightly on her back. “Like glue, Will.”

Inching forward, Willow did what she’d wanted to do since seeing him. She snuggled up to his back, re-aligning her legs behind his and wrapping her arms around his waist so they crossed over his abdomen. She swallowed her sigh of satisfaction.

“Don’t let go.”

Never
she thought. Then they were off again. This time Willow clung to Ben like second skin, glorying in the feel of him in her arms, her breasts crushed against his back, the wind rushing by as they sped through trees as Ben took them deep into the forest.

Several minutes later, curiosity got the better of Willow and she eased her death grip on Ben to peer around. Unused to wearing a helmet, she clunked hers on Ben’s when he went over a small bump. “Sorry,” she shouted, feeling like a moron.

“Are you doing okay?” Hecalled back, sounding more concerned than irritated.

“Just can’t see very well.”

His chest rumbled under her hands in a low chuckle and he slowed. “Sorry. I was too anxious to get you alone. You can sit up if you want, but keep a tight grip on me.” He covered her hands with one of his, as if she needed the reminder, and gave them a squeeze.

Willow knew she was all leg, and because of the size and breadth of Ben’s torso, she couldn’t see over his shoulder. Now she straightened and was able to turn her head. Ben guided the snowmobile through a clearing, the dimming sun reflecting sharp and bright on the pristine snow. She might have felt bad about marring the smooth surface, but she was having too much fun.

Several more minutes and a zillion more trees passed before they came to a stop some distance from a dropoff. Ben shut off the powerful machine and they sat in companionable silence, gazing out over the valley that lay in snowy hibernation before them.

Willow scooted back when Ben raised his helmet. “I wanted to show you this. How beautiful winter can be up here in the mountains.”

She lifted off her own headgear and rose on shaky legs. “Oh.”

Ben steadied her, caught her close, one arm around her shoulders, the other at her waist. “Sorry. I should have warned you.”

His face filled her vision. “N-no problem.”

He brushed her hair off her face. Conscious that she no doubt had helmet hair, she raised her own hand to run it through for some lift. “It’s probably all flat.”

Evidently Ben didn’t agree. He bit off his glove and threaded the silky strands through his bare fingers. “It’s beautiful. Like a warm, welcoming fire. So many glowing colors.”

Willow’s cheeks flushed. She loved her hair and always thought it her best feature. Now, looking into Ben’s appreciative gaze, she wished she hadn’t cut it so short. “It used to be longer, but then I usually had it in a bun or braid.”
Good, Willow. Because that sounds so sexy
.

“It suits you.” His fingers whispered over her hair, drifted light as a feather down over her cheek, her jaw. Her lips. “As do these.”

Her breath hitched. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” He closed the distance until their breath mingled. “I’m going to kiss you now, Will.” He hesitated, his lips less than an inch away, as if giving her time to tell him no. Only she didn’t.

Ben lowered his head that final fraction and pressed his lips to hers, her face still cradled in his hand. He sipped her, slowly, softly. The unexpected gentleness floored her, and warmed her. She let out a soft sigh and dropped the helmet to lay both hands on his chest.

He opened his lips slightly, caressing them over hers before closing them again, drawing her bottom lip in for a gentle suckle. Widening again, he tickled the seam of her mouth with his tongue. Another throaty sound escaped, giving her a nanosecond of embarrassment at the neediness of it.

Ben raised his head slightly, his tongue a moist caress along her lips. “Open up, Will,” he murmured. “Let me in.”

Her lips slowly opened and with a growl of approval, Ben’s tongue slid in, dancing over the slick inner lining of her lips, slipped further into her mouth. His taste burst in her throat, her head. Better,
richer
than the double cream Oreo cookie ice cream Jade had introduced her to. More addictive than she could have ever imagined. Then he angled his head, sealed his lips tighter against hers, and, with another growl, this one fierce and demanding, proceeded to devour her.

Willow slid her arms up his chest and twined them around his neck, all but crawling
into
his skin. She lifted her tongue and met his in a lusty duel.

Somewhere along the way Ben lost his other glove because she felt a warm bare hand slip under the hem of her sweater to spread wide across her back, the one on her cheek sliding to clasp the nape of her neck. She wrenched her own gloves off so she could dive in and fist his hair, rising on tiptoes to meet him, kiss for kiss, heat for heat, need for need.

She let out a moan of protest that turned to a sigh of delight when his mouth left hers to trail sweet, open-mouthed kisses along the long column of her neck. “I love your scent, Will.” Ben breathed deeply, tendrils of desire rooting deep with each press of his lips, each erotic flick of his tongue. “It makes me crazed for a taste of you.”

A careful little nip of his teeth followed, right at the base of her neck, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. “Yes,” she whispered, lost to the sensations bombarding her.

His groan coincided with the flexing of his fingers on her back. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Entice me.” He lifted his head, eyes blazing, a strange ring of amber barely discernible against the natural color that so enthralled her.

Her lids lowered, not in shyness but in sheer hunger. “But I want you to.”

A hungry growl left his lips, then he was kissing her again, this time his male dominance in full effect. He plundered and took, thrusting his tongue deep. Willow tried to keep up, tried to match him stroke for stroke, but she was starting to weaken, her knees shaking from the onslaught of his touch, his passionate kisses.

Suddenly he jerked away, a harsh curse filling the air. Dizzy from desire, she blindly followed his retreat, knowing only she wanted more of his lips, more of his hard body pressed to hers.

“I gotta take this, sweetheart.” Ben murmured, lips brushing her forehead. “It’s the emergency number.” Belatedly she heard the ringing of a phone and he removed the hand at her back to answer it. The one on her nape remained, coaxing her to lay her head in the crook of his neck.

“Anderson,” he said into the phone, his fingers gently kneading her scalp, easing her down from the shaking want that had all but consumed her. While she silently mourned the loss of his intense focus, she used the few minutes to gather her wits.

Because, seriously. What was wrong with her? Making out with a man she barely knew. Given the racing of her heart, the heat pumping through her body, she’d been minutes away from tearing at his clothes to find bare skin. Maybe for Ben this wasn’t an oddity—hell, he was sexy enough that this might even be a daily event—but for Willow, it was completely foreign.

Yeah, she’d been kissed a few times, but never like this. Not to where her breasts ached to be touched, her nipples hard little pebbles pushing against her clothes. And she hurt. Her belly felt tight, and between her thighs-. —sShe shuddered, not even wanting to think about how wet she felt.

Had she really told him she wanted him to taste her?
She pressed her lips together, feeling how swollen they were from Ben’s kisses and wanted to moan. Instead she hid her face in Ben’s neck, alternately savoring his scent and wanting to die from embarrassment.

Ben ended his call and ran his now free hand over her hair, followed by a kiss at the crown of her head. “I’m sorry, Willow. I need to get back. Four people are missing and we need to start searching for them before we lose the light.”

Willow knew Ben worked at the lodge and was part of the search-and-rescue team from their conversation last night. They’d played cards when he’d shown up for protection duty, only to be kicked out by Rome a few hours later. Willow had been concerned again about the cold. Rome only huffed out a breath, reminding her that Ben had full use of one of the other cabins if he needed to warm up and that he wouldn’t be alone for long, what with a second guard coming in less than two hours.

The thought of being cold and alone filled her with enough sympathy for the idiots whose misadventure had ruined her time with Ben that she was able to step back. “They’re probably freaking out.”

“Willow?”

“Hmm?” Rather than look at him, she bent down to pick up her abandoned helmet and gloves. Intent on brushing the snow clear, she didn’t see his lips press into a mulish line. “If not. they will be when I’m done with them.”

Now she blinked up at him, unsure she just heard what she heard. “Pardon?”

Ben reached out and caught her chin between his thumb and fingers. “I’m only sorry for the interruption, not for kissing you. I want to do that again. We will do it again.” A thick pause, the desire in his eyes echoed by the throbbing arousal between her thighs. He drew in a harsh breath, every facet of his features taut with hunger. “And so much more.”

Willow nearly choked on her saliva. If this aching, almost painful need was caused by Ben’s mere kiss, she didn’t know if she could handle his idea of more.

But she really wanted to find out.