The Alpha's Hunger (13 page)

He shut the door and changed into his clothes. “Come on,” he said, walking briskly out and taking her hand to tug her off the sofa.

“Where are we going?”

“Out,” he said, tugging her toward the garage. “You’re sick of being cooped up here, and so am I.”

He opened her door for her. She gazed up in bewilderment.

“There’s a taco place down the street that smells good. Can you walk in those shoes?” He wished he had somehow arranged to get her a change of clothes today. The poor girl was still in her work skirt and heels and the mauve t-shirt from Shayla.

She tugged her skirt down, as if it might cover more of her long, bare legs. “Yeah, definitely. How far?”

“Only a block. I’ll carry you if you get tired.”

She licked her lips, making his cock jerk in his pants. Flushing, she looked away. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, her voice huskier than usual.

Abruptly, he found himself pushing her up against the house, his body pressing against her soft curves. He cupped the side of her face, lifting it as if he was going to kiss her. He stopped himself just in time, freezing as he realized the inappropriateness of his actions. He’d just told her he couldn’t be in a relationship with her. What the hell was he doing?

He brushed his lips across her forehead, then her temple, then her lush lips. “Ashley… I’m a whole bundle of trouble. Look where working for me has already landed you—” He stopped, wanting to backpedal. He didn’t want her to stop working for him, no matter what happened. The thought of going back to Stone Technologies without her made him feel dead. “What I’m trying to say is…” Well, what the hell was he trying to say? Being so close to her, feeling her body against his, having her scent in his nostrils made it hard to formulate any thought.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, a sense of both longing and loss giving him a tenderness he didn’t usually find. “Ashley, it’s so complicated. And I’m just… sorry.”

She thrust her chin forward in a cute show of defiance. “What is it? Why can’t you be with me? Just tell me.”

“It’s too dangerous. You’re human and I’m… not.”

She blinked rapidly, pushing him away from her and averting her face.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, standing back and extending his arm to allow her to pass him.

* * *

They walked down the street together, side by side. She felt dizzy from having his hard body pressed against hers, the aggressive way he pinned her sending a heady rush of lust rocketing through her body. Her emotions warred between anger and acceptance. She did believe Ben was sorry, but she didn’t want his apology, she wanted him.

“Ben?”

As usual for him, he didn’t answer, but he did look over.

“Do you miss Venezuela?” she asked.

It was the wrong thing to say. His mask slid back in place, lines hardening. “No,” he said, but it seemed like a lie—she saw pain in his expression. She remembered, belatedly, that his brother and father had been killed there. If she’d heard right, it had been some kind of grotesque death—like a wild animal… Oh. A wolf, of course.

“What happened there?” she asked softly. She held her breath, not really expecting an answer.

To her surprise, he spoke. “My father’s pack had been threatened takeover by another—a drug cartel of shifters. My brother had flown in to help him fight, but…” He swallowed and didn’t go on.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “And your mother? Is she still alive?”

He shook his head. “No. She died when I was twelve of cancer. Which isn’t supposed to affect wolves,” he said bitterly.

For once, she had nothing to say. She knew he didn’t want her pity. She reached out and touched his hand. He instantly laced his fingers through hers.

“I think—” he said, then cleared his throat. “I think she just didn’t want to go on living with my dad. He was a top-notch asshole, like me.”

Her chest tightened and her nose tickled, tears rising up for him. “That’s not you. You may play that part, but I know it’s not the real you.”

He lifted his eyes, looking stunned. She met his gaze evenly, transmitting her utter confidence in her statement. As if he couldn’t take it, he literally shook it off, like a dog shakes off water.

“I mean it. Sure, you’re a dick at times—okay, most of the time, but underneath it all, you are sweet.”

“No,” he said. “I’m really not. And you’re the only person on the planet who has ever described me that way.”

“Because I know the truth,” she said, lifting her chin and daring him to contradict her.

His expression wavered for a moment and he looked uncertain or lost. Then he did the same shaking motion he’d done a few minutes before. “No, you don’t,” he said bitterly.

“What would it take for you to accept anything I offer? Do you always have to reject it?” She almost said
reject me,
because that was the truth of the matter.

He didn’t answer. They had reached the taco place, and he led her inside, glancing at the board. “Do you know what you want?”

It was an authentic Mexican joint, with the menu mostly in Spanish. She shrugged. “Surprise me.”

Ben ordered in Spanish and they handed him a couple of Dos Equis beers with lime wedges stuffed in the mouth. He passed one to her and they sat down at a booth.

“What did you order?”

“A
carne asada
burrito. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she said with a little laugh.

“You don’t know what that is, do you?”

She grinned sheepishly. “Some kind of burrito.”

“It’s a marinated beefsteak. I think you’ll like it.”

It was stupid, but she leaned forward and said, “Speak to me in Spanish?”

His eyebrows shot up.

She shrugged. “I like the way it sounds.”

“
Como qué?
”

“Keep going.”

“
Si pudiera decirte la verdad, deciré que tu eres… mi todo mundo
.”

His words rolled over her ears like they were spoken by Don Juan himself. “What did you say?”

He hesitated long enough for her to realize that he’d said something real for once. Something he couldn’t or wouldn’t say in English. She tried to replay the syllables in her mind to decipher their meaning, but her high school Spanish was lacking. Was it something about speaking the truth and then
, you are my whole world?
She clung to that thought, and placed it in her heart like a little jewel to take out and hold to the light the next time he rejected her.

Chapter Eight

They met Mark and Zolla back at Zolla’s house. Ashley headed toward the bathroom to change her clothes. He watched the shape of her ass under the red skirt as she sashayed away. God, how he ached to be inside her, to spank those lovely cheeks and fuck her from behind. Or maybe, even, to take her ass.

“You should really mark her,” Zolla said.

He frowned. “What’s it to you?”

To the omega’s credit, he didn’t cower under Ben’s narrowed gaze. “It would calm you down. You’d be able to think straight when she’s around.”

His lip curled in disbelief. He’d never heard that about mating a female. Besides, it was an impossibility. “She’s human.”

“So, it just means you have to be careful. Go for the shoulder instead of the neck. Avoid major arteries. She’ll heal up all right. She looks healthy enough.”

His vision changed and a growl erupted from his throat. He didn’t like Zolla talking about the way she looked. He didn’t like him talking about her at all.

Zolla held up his hands and lifted his chin, baring his throat to show subservience. “Hey, this is what I’m talking about. Once she’s marked you won’t be so crazy to let us all know she’s yours.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered. Turning to Mark, he said, “Did you bring the vest for her?”

“Yes,” Mark said, unzipping a duffel bag. “I have several Kevlar vests here, as well as firearms, in case you want to stay in human form.”

“I don’t. It’s just Ashley I’m worried about.” He found he couldn’t drop the topic of marking Ashley, though. Turning back to Zolla, he said, “If you were me—a wolf with more than one enemy who wants him dead—would you mark a female?”

Zolla tipped his head to the side. “Maybe not, but you might be able to think your way out of this better if you weren’t so jacked up on her pheromones.”

Ashley returned, her slight figure making her seem so vulnerable, so human. His blood surged to protect her. But in this case, protecting her would be keeping her away from him.

He held a vest open for her. “I need you to wear this for the meeting,” he told her.

“Bulletproof?” she asked, looking from him to Mark.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mark answered. “But your head is still vulnerable, so keep it down if any shots are fired.”

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Ben cut in. “You’re going to drive up there, and make the trade. Obviously I interrupted it too early last time, and I’m sorry for that,” he said.

Ashley’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He knew it was out of character for him to apologize for anything.

“As soon as your sister is released, the two of you are going to get in your car and drive straight back here. Keep an eye on the rearview mirrors to make sure you’re not followed.”

“What will you do?”

“We’re going to attack,” he said, looking at the two men to make sure they were on board. They both nodded their assent.

“If anything goes awry and we’re forced to come out before the trade is made—and I hope it won’t—” he added at her look of alarm, “then you get in your car and drive off. I will make sure we get your sister back and I will tear out the throats of every last one of her captors.”

She swallowed.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“What happens if fighting breaks out?” he quizzed her.

“I get in the car and drive back here.”

“Good girl.”

They drove downtown. He rode with Ashley, instructing her to let him out a few blocks before the bus station. “Remember the plan?” he asked.

Her face was pale and drawn, but she nodded without hesitation.

“What do you do?”

“I get Melissa and drive away as fast as I can.”

“And if something goes wrong?”

“I get in the car and drive away.”

“No matter what. Don’t stay to watch.” He wrote a phone number down on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “If something really goes wrong, and we never come back to the apartment, call Shayla.
Tell her what happened and she’ll help you. Got it?”

Ashley’s eyes had grown very round and her lips were trembling.

He cupped her face with both his hands, his thumb stroking her lips. “No, no. Shh. Nothing like that will happen. I’m just providing insurance, that’s all. I’m going to take care of this.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice cracking.

“That’s my brave girl.” He leaned forward, meaning to kiss her forehead, but his instinct to claim her took over. He took her mouth in a bruising kiss, sweeping his tongue against the seam of her lips until she yielded entry. He slid his hand from her face to her nape, holding her prisoner as he kissed and sucked at her lips as if they were his only salvation. It felt as if they were. When they finally broke apart, breathless, she stared up at him with a dazed look. He gave her one last kiss, then another before he forced himself to turn away.

“I’m going to leave my clothes in the car,” he said, opening the door and standing up to shuck his clothing. He dropped them in the seat, shut the door, and shifted, ignoring the screaming in his brain that said not to let her go into danger.

* * *

Cold sweat dampened her shirt under the bulletproof vest as she pulled the car into the Greyhound parking lot. Her entire body trembled and her hands were ice cold on the wheel. She parked in a space and grabbed the laptop, stepping out. She looked around. The lot was full of cars, but she saw no sign of movement, nor did she hear any voices.

She turned back to her car and put the keys loosely back in the ignition so it would be ready to drive off at a moment’s notice, if necessary. She left the door slightly ajar, as well. Then she walked out toward the middle of the lot.

Time ticked by, glacially slow. Where were the wolves? She peered in the shadows, looking low for the glowing eyes, but saw nothing. Still, she sensed Ben was there, somewhere. She paced up and down the lot, but no one appeared.

Maybe she should wait in the car.

She turned and started back.

A car pulled into the lot, its headlights blinding her. She covered her eyes and watched as it drove past her, up to the main building. A woman got out of the passenger side and ran up the steps, trying to open the locked door to the station. She turned and trotted back down the stairs and got in the car, saying something to the driver. The car turned around and drove out.

She exhaled. Not them. Well, where in the hell were they? She pulled out her phone and glanced at the time. Twelve fifteen. It felt like an hour had already passed. She forced herself to take a deep breath to the count of four, then held it until she thought her lungs would explode. When she blew it out, her body relaxed marginally. She tried a second time.

Three pairs of headlights swung in at once. Nice cars—not like last time in the Stone parking lot. Two black four-runners and a dark blue Mercedes. Not cars that belonged in a Greyhound bus station. Her heart jumped erratically in her chest. She turned in a circle, then forced herself to just stand still and wait.

They stopped in a ring around her. Her eyes slid toward her vehicle at least one hundred feet away now. Damn. She should’ve just waited in her car. Why was she so stupid?

She peered at the cars, trying to see if her sister might be in one, but with the headlights shining in her eyes, she couldn’t see anything.

The door of the four-runner in front of her swung open. “Put the laptop down and back away,” he said.

“Where’s Melissa?” she demanded, wishing her voice didn’t sound so high-pitched and shaky.

She heard the sound of a gun cocking as the man extended his arm straight out, sighting her with a pistol in his hand. “Do it now.”