Steel: Blue Collar Wolves #3 (Mating Season Collection) (3 page)

She’d thrown up after her first kill four years ago. And the kill after that. And the one after that. And those had been wolves who she knew had been kidnapping and raping women, then selling them to different packs, packs who lived far away from human towns and didn’t want to get any closer, not even to get mates.

This pack… this pack wasn’t what she was led to believe. They kept to themselves mostly, but all wolf packs did, and they managed to live side-by-side with the surrounding humans. Her investigations showed that the spots of trouble that did happen were from non-pack, the small groups that formed around this one, and even then, this pack seemed to suppress anything major happening.

She wished she understood pack laws and inter-pack relations better. There seemed such a marked difference between so many packs.

Only way to treat a wolf is to kill it. Don’t go making the mistake of thinking they’re human just because they can take that shape.

Her father’s words pounded in her ears, knocking back against the need to talk to the wolf, know his world better.

She couldn’t afford doubt, not now. She knew what he was and what she needed to do. So what if they weren’t actively hurting anyone now? They would soon.

It was their nature.

Straightening her shoulders, she prepared for battle and walked back out to him.

‡

S
he came out
of the bathroom with a determined look on her face that had Steel’s back up and his cock at attention. No one should look that sexy when they were deviously planning your demise.

Just which direction was the little minx going to go, though? However she played it, he was going to follow to get what
he
needed. Her name from her lips. Something about getting her to trust him that much, to share that with him, it was a tangible want that had the wolf circling and tense.

She smiled, hesitant and unsure, with a side of little-girl-lost, and hell yeah she was playing him, because he’d lay down money she was an alpha bitch who never showed weakness to anyone. “Do you think we can put on pause the chaining up thing? Sit at the kitchen and grab some food maybe?”

“I was just going to ask if you were hungry. Kitchen’s this way.”

He led her to the small kitchen table, the same table his parents and grandparents had eaten from. He refurnished it not long ago when he redid the house, getting things in order and repainting and repairing after his dad died. He wanted everything to be ready for when his own mate showed herself, and he gave quick glances to gauge her reaction.

There was a tiny frown between her eyebrows, but her eyes were soft as she took in the photos and old furniture, the lines of her mouth not as tight, and he’d say there was a bit of longing in her always moving gaze, a wistfulness that told how everything she was seeing now was wanted but unknown in her life.

His heart squeezed inside his chest with the need to hold her close, while simultaneously a burning desire to beat the hell out of whoever put that look in her eyes came over him. How the hell had she grown up? What kind of life had she led that a gorgeous, intelligent woman like her ended up a hunter? She should be like Bella, a degree on the wall and every male in a three piece suit panting after her. Not at the mercy of a wolf.

And now his heart seized for a different reason. It was fucking mating season. What if the wolf hadn’t been him? What if it’d been that inbred Jacobson or his kid and the little group that followed them? They’d of…

He spun, facing her. He knew, of course. They hadn’t gotten their hands on her. But that flashing thought would not leave, and he needed to see…

Now those green eyes held clear curiosity, his move confusing her enough to give up the game for a moment. “What?”

She was fine. She found him, and he’d have her back now. Not that she needed him to protect her, but he needed to do it. The wolf needed his mate safe, and the rest of the world could burn. “I can make you a sandwich if you want. I have turkey or roast beef. Also have stew or leftover spaghetti.”

“Turkey sandwich please.”

As he made the food he calmed his wolf, letting the fact she was here, safe and unharmed, slowly calm him down.

She took several quick bites before slowing down to start her helpless charade again. “Where exactly are we?”

“Pennsylvania.”

The quick irritation that crossed her face had him coughing into his fist to stop a laugh from forming. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It wasn’t meant to.”

She composed herself, trying again. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

Before he could answer, she raised her hand and pushed a long strand of red hair behind her ear. Something about seeing those long pale fingers playing with that red mane had him tongue-tied, frozen against the onslaught of images of those fingers against him, of that hair trailing down his chest and nestling around his cock as those fingers circled him and that mouth swallowed him down.

This time when her eyes met his, there was no confusion, only an answering spark of heat deep within her own gaze. She might be a hunter and hate his kind, but he had no more doubts that she was attracted to him. “How ‘bout you answer me a question, Red. What’s your name?”

She brought her fingers up to her mouth, sucked on the tip of one to grab up the spot of mustard that lay there. “I don’t think you’ve earned my name, wolf.”

He leaned a hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “And how do I earn it?”

“I’ll tell it to you as I’m heading out the door.” The grin was pure sass, designed to make a man know the woman behind it was giving him grief but damned if he didn’t enjoy it anyway.

His Red was as much a spitfire as her red hair promised. Maybe she was using her wiles to get him to slip up so she could knock him out and run, but his mind beat out a stubborn refrain telling him this was possible, he could make her understand she didn’t need to hate his kind, that they could have this type of exchange every night, exchanges that would end with them naked and sweaty, him working her over until she was screaming his name, her nails raking his back and her teeth burying themselves in his shoulder.

“That can’t happen, but maybe we can make another deal.”

“What kind of deal?” The sass remained, but now muted, and now pure cunning shown in those eyes.

“Play me a game of chess. I win, you tell me your name.”

Her eyes slid over to the chess set in the corner, one of those stand-alone types, all hand carved and solid wood. His grandfather made it, and it was the one his father taught him on, and it pleased the fuck out of him that out of all the things she undoubtedly noticed as she made her way around his house, the chess board stood out enough to her she knew exactly where to look when it was mentioned. “What if I win?”

“What do you want that’s not your freedom?”

Now she leaned back in the chair, and of course she knew the picture she presented, throat bared and back oh-so-innocently arched – only a little, barely enough to mention. “You not only tell me if you’re alpha, you tell me who is beta and the two stand-bys as well.”

“That’s a lot. Say you escape. That info could destroy my pack.”

She pushed out her bottom lip by a millimeter. Not even enough to mention, but enough to soften her face, widen her eyes, and give a cast of innocence that was dangerous when mixed with the otherwise seductiveness of her features. “You can’t think I’m going to escape, can you? Surely your defenses around here wouldn’t let that happen.”

She knew how to play, and damn, the woman was good at it. Knowing every moment this was a game, and he was still half-convinced she was serious. “A kiss. If you win, you get the names. If I win, I get your name, and I get a kiss.”

Her mouth dropped a fraction before she pulled herself together, the flirtatiousness replacing the shock that had broken through. “I guess that sounds fair.” She stood, walking to the board. Pausing, tossing a heavy-lidded look over her shoulder, she said, voice an octave lower than usual, “Are you coming?”

‡

S
he lost.

How had she lost to the wolf? She’d been playing chess since she was a girl, beating adults when she was barely in double-digits, and the wolf had won.

To be fair, it’d been close. She’d gotten some good moves in, but the wolf had managed to turn it around, and in the end, the one calling checkmate wasn’t her.

“What are you going to do now, Red?” His voice was confident, but to his credit, not gloating. Still, her fingers itched to smack the smug out of him.

And then, her fingers itched to do other things to him, which was what terrified her more right now. She’d be able to handle this kiss if it was only using an attraction he had for her against him, but she wouldn’t lie to herself, not anymore. Denial meant death in this world.

Wolf or not, enemy or not, she wanted him. It grew in her, this low thrum of desire, every moment she spent in his company, with every heated look of those golden eyes, with every word spoken by that wonderfully melodic voice. Everything about him beckoned to her, tempted her to set aside her work and lose herself in him.

She couldn’t renege on the bet, but she feared kissing him – not for what he would do to her, but what she might unleash within herself. “Regan.”

“Steel.” When she tilted her head in confusion, a small smile spread over his mouth, even white teeth perfect for eating her showing from that perfectly formed mouth. “My name. Steel. It feels wrong for you to kiss me without knowing it.”

So he wasn’t going to let up on that. Well, she wouldn’t have let up on her wants if she’d won, so turnabout and all that.

Fuck it.

The shocked look on his face was worth it as she pushed aside the chess board and climbed onto his lap. This close, his gold eyes were the exact color of the metal and absolutely amazing in how clear they were, how the color was so pure. Their brightness intensified as she settled herself against him, his body hardening under hers.

If he was expecting her to be a shy, retiring miss, he was going to be disappointed. Her mouth locked with his, demanding he obey her. The faint abrasion on her skin spoke of stubble and the spicy scent of him was overwhelming this close up.

Her tongue made its way into his mouth, the heat of him sending answering spirals through her. Pants and moans made their way into her ears, and
oh, that’s me
as she kept pushing deeper, pushed her body closer to his, let his big hands wrap themselves around her waist and back and pull her harder against him.

Her fingers dug into the thick hair, pulling it to adjust his mouth more to her liking, and there was his moan, so deep and sonorous, the thrill of it as sharp as if he’d put his fingers against her clit and began to work her over.

Her skin was sensitized to the point of pleasure-pain, where every stroke of his fingers over her shirt had her shifting in want, had her bucking her hips to relieve the ache that was rapidly climbing within her, demanding him to give her release.

She clung to his hair as he now took over the kiss, a low growl getting her toes curling as the vibrations ran through her body. His own hands went lower, from her back to curve over her ass, pushing her jeans covered cunt over the thick ridge of his cock hiding under his own jeans. She wanted to tear at the material, get it out of the way, let the wet slide of her pussy bring him inside her and the constant motion of her hips bring them both pleasure.

He’d fit inside her perfectly, filling every empty inch and demanding she take all of him. Her fingers reached down to work the zipper of his pants—

The phone rang.

Regan jumped back, nearly falling to the floor in her haste to get away. Steel looked wild, his hair wildly tousled and his eyes so bright they were contained liquid gold.

The cell rang again, and Steel looked like he wanted to pound the damn thing out of existence. Instead he spread his fingers and pushed his hand towards her in a
stay there
gesture and rose to retrieve it.