Untamed: An Alpha's Kiss (Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance) (4 page)

CHAPTER
NINE

Fuck!

Parker's brain exploded as he stormed through the halls of the hospital. He couldn't get to fresh air fast enough.

His entire body still tingled from touching her, but his mind wouldn't let him enjoy it.
Fuck!
She was the daughter of the Vella Alpha. This woman, this wolf, whom he'd run with in his dreams, his Mate, was of enemy blood.

When he'd pulled her out of the way in the hospital, he'd realized why she seemed so familiar to him. As soon as she was in his arms, he recalled the smell of her from his dreams, clean and slightly floral with her own unique scent underneath it. He'd longed to bury his face in her long locks as he'd done so many times before when they came together in his slumber, to breathe in more of that life-affirming essence of her.

He'd dreamed of her for months, recurring and shockingly realistic dreams in which she appeared to him both in wolf and human form. As wolves they raced through the valley, always under the cover of darkness, flank to flank, surveying their territory. She was a strong and capable Mate, a true equal, and their thoughts flowed between them as their paws struck the ground in flight. Even though they were only dreams, he felt close to her as he ran with her through the forest.

But more and more frequently he dreamed of her in human form, spread naked beneath him, her smooth limbs twined with his as he sunk into her exquisite heat. Those soft blue eyes fixed on him as he moved in her, mirroring his own intense desire. Those swollen, rosy lips begged to be kissed. He could taste himself on them, salty and musky. Her tight, wet, satin clutch, enveloping him, gripping him, milking him, inviting him to spill in her welcoming depths as her fevered whispers urged him to come. In those dreams he felt even closer to her, felt the love between them as they joined as one.

Always she knew just how to touch him to make him give himself over to her, body and soul. Always her loving embrace simultaneously felt like a new blaze, hot and surprising, and an old flame, steadily burning.

And always he woke with a painfully engorged cock, leaking with pre-come, and an unbearable urge to be back inside her as he stroked himself to the memory of her soft skin and endless beckoning desire. He couldn't count the number of times he'd masturbated in jumbled sheets, envisioning himself buried inside her, making her come all over his thick cock. He spilled on his stomach fantasizing her soft cries of pleasure, her sweet voice choking out his name as she spasmed around him, urging him to his own climax.

It was her. He'd had doubts when he'd looked in her eyes and felt that first rush of excitement. He still didn't believe it when she'd cursed him out after he'd thanked her for not reporting the incident to the Council, though her fiery demeanor rang true to his memories of her wolf.

But when he'd held her, and smelled her, and felt her move against him--that was more real than any dream. It was like something clicked in his soul, an instant answer to an ancient question that dwelled within him on some cellular level. He had never been so sure about anything in his entire life. This daughter of César Vella, with her fiery temper and her smeared eye makeup, was his Mate.

CHAPTER
TEN

While Scottie slept
, Charmaine replayed it all in her mind. The universe had played a cruel joke on her. First she'd been hit over the head with overpowering lust and then she discovered that the object of said lust was from a rival pack. Not just any rival pack, either. Kreugers and Vellas had a long and violent history with one another going back to Toby Gillis's grandfather. Her parents might be pushing her down the aisle, but they sure as hell weren't going to approve of her with this wolf.

Suddenly she couldn't breathe. She slipped out of the room without her jacket and wound through the maze of corridors and elevators before arriving in the dark garden, where the only other soul was a weary-looking attendant emptying the recycle bin. He barely glanced at her before returning to his task, finally bundling his bag into a cart and leaving her in peace.

When he was gone she took in great gasps of breath, inhaling deep to keep herself from hyperventilating. She sank to the nearest bench with a half-sob, the events of the evening one great leaden weight on her shoulders. Her body ached and her mind wouldn't stop racing, no matter how calm she made her breath. She couldn't focus.

The noise of the door behind her made her turn, expecting to see the attendant again. But it was Parker, his green eyes concerned as he made his way toward her. Her body instantly betrayed her. Blood thundered in her ear as she stood in greeting. He took her hand and she didn't pull away, her fingers sliding into his huge palm without a struggle.

"I really am sorry about your friend." He said. His eyes were sincere, that same caring gaze she'd seen so many times. "I wouldn't kill you, either. That was an asshole thing to say."

She laughed in spite of herself, sniffing back the tears that pricked at her eyes from his kind voice.

"I was a real bitch. So it's okay."

"I mean it, though."

"I know."

They stood in silence, her small hand comforted by his larger one, for several minutes before his low voice cut through the stillness. "You felt it, right? I'm not making this up. We're...
known
to each other."

"Yes," she half-whispered.

"Mates." It hung in the air, a heavy sentence.

She could only nod in response, her head buzzing. She closed her eyes and gripped his hand tightly. "Yes."

"A cruel trick of the universe."

She choked out a bitter laugh. "We're Lycans. Our whole existence is a cruel trick of the universe."

He squeezed her hand with a rueful smile. "Yep. Pretty much."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "I honestly don't know what we do. I don't even think there's a precedent for us. The only thing I know at the moment is we're going to keep this mess from last night under wraps. I give you my word that it all ends right here."

"Thank you."

"Of course." He was so close that she could feel his body heat. As if without thinking, he tucked a loose curl of her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering on the curve of her cheek as he smoothed it back. Even such a brief contact heated her skin and ignited a feverish craving, so that she turned her face toward his hand, rubbing against his fingers like a cat, seeking more of his touch.

Instinctively he cupped her jaw, his thumb grazing across her bottom lip. Just the faintest touch, a calloused rasp across the tender flesh, but she couldn't stop herself from flicking her tongue against it, swirling it around his thumb and drawing it into her wet mouth. She was surprised at how naturally it came to her, though she'd never done such a thing before. She heard his breath hitch as he shoved his thumb inside her mouth to the root and watched her suckle it, his eyes dark with need. Their eyes locked as her hot mouth closed around his thumb.

"Charmaine," he groaned, reluctantly pulling his thumb back out. "I don't think I can kiss you." She saw in his eyes that he was fighting his animal desires with all his strength, fighting back the beast that lived within him, just under the skin, the wild thing that would take what it needed. Beneath her already intense human lust a darker, more visceral current of need flowed through her, sharpening her senses, as her wolf responded eagerly to his touch.

"Why not?" She murmured against his hand. She didn't want to give up the feeling of him against her lips.

His eyes on her were primal, promising and threatening all at once.

"Because I don't think I can
just
kiss you."

***

But it didn't stop him from pulling her against him mere seconds later. She clung to him tightly as he swept her into his embrace, burying her face in his neck, inhaling his warm scent: pine, wind, the faint traces of some spicy soap, his own musky signature. Strong fingers twined through her hair, capturing the silky strands, and she couldn't resist sighing when he pressed his lips to her temple, letting the feeling of him holding her that close wash through her.

"I want to," he whispered. "I want to kiss you right now more than I've ever wanted anything."

"I want it, too..." she murmured, her own mouth moving to the hollow inside his shirt collar to feel the throbbing there. Her pulse echoed his, the blood roaring in her ears as she nuzzled his collarbone to feel his heated skin sizzling on her lips.

Almost instantly his hands cupped her face and his mouth searched hers, tasting her need, drawing it from her lips and tongue while her entire body melted into the familiar heat of him. He savored her, delicately twining his tongue with hers, making her gasp when he gently licked the inside of her lips and tugged her bottom lip between his teeth. She ached with the beauty of his scent and touch and the quiet noises he made in the back of his throat as he kissed her.

Between them she could feel his obvious arousal pressing into her stomach and she longed to grasp its heated velvet length firmly in her hand. She had never had so many sexual thoughts before, but now they couldn't stop coming, her dreams and desires colliding: images of Parker undressing her and kissing his way down her body, images of her on her knees pleasuring him with her mouth, images of the two of them locked in a feral coupling, Parker taking her from behind while she moved frantically against him like a bitch in heat... She trembled in spite of herself, this new, overwhelming need so foreign and frightening.

"Please..." It escaped her before she could stop herself, a breathless declaration of her need, as she wrapped herself around him. She had no idea what she was even begging for. "Please, Parker..."

"Jesus, Charmaine," he groaned as her lips latched onto the velvet skin of his neck. "I'm trying here, but you don't make it easy." She felt him twitch in his jeans. Between her thighs she was slick and aware, a puddle of arousal.

His nostrils flared as he caught her scent, and he hastily untangled himself from her arms, nearly shoving her from him as he struggled for control. His breath came in ragged, uneven bursts, and the fingers of his free hand gripped the bench as if it were a lifeline.

"This is a bad idea," Parker said in a forced voice. "We can't--" His face twisted as if he were in pain.

For a moment they stood apart, confused and aching.
Full circle, in just a few short moments,
she thought as he eyed her warily, lust lingering in his eyes even as he physically distanced himself from her.
And yet in two more seconds I would've ripped his clothes off.

Without him touching her, Charmaine's head was clearer. "No, you're right." Her voice quavered as she struggled for control. "This is irresponsible." Only the faintest occasional fire still smoldered through her veins as she backed away from him.

"I don't even know your name," he said, running his shaking hands through his dark hair. "Jesus, I just kissed you and I don't even know your name."

"Charmaine," she replied in a soft voice. "My name is Charmaine Vella."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Back at Scottie's side, Charmaine couldn't stop her insides from twisting. The morning sun streamed through his window but he slept through it all, his strong chest rising and falling under the thin hospital blanket. She stroked his hand and his freckled cheek before settling into the chair next to him.

His color looked much better, and the nurse who came in to check on him an hour later seemed pleased with his progress. She changed out his bags of medication, reducing the morphine, and recorded all his levels.

"If there's no internal bleeding he might be able to go home today," she offered, and Charmaine returned her kindness with a weak smile. She knew Scottie would be okay. But she wasn't so sure about herself.

She mentally calculated what she would say about the night before, how the two of them might explain this away. How to keep quiet about their involvement with the Kreuger pack in order to keep peace. There was no way to avoid Scottie being seen or an giving an explanation of what happened, so she decided the safest thing was to stick close to the real story
--conveniently leaving out the fact that they had been in Kreuger territory, that is.

Her father's angry face floated in front of her, stern eyebrows and disappointed scowl. She would no doubt endure endless lectures from him once he found out about this, even though she had single-handedly fought off about thirty people and saved Scottie's life. None of that would matter. She'd hear a lecture about
good choices
and somewhere in there would be the implication that she would never be a good wife and mother, and was therefore a worthless human being, because she had been at a party instead of out finding a suitable husband.

And her mother, who was Team Scottie all the way due to her close friendship with Scottie's mom Shannon would no doubt take her aside and give her some advice about parlaying the entire experience into a long talk with Scottie about his choices and future, which would in turn lead to Scottie realizing she was good Mate material and deciding to settle down.

The whole thing was hopeless.

And then there was the rest of it, which she had tried to forget but which now came back, pressing insistently into the front of her mind. Parker Kreuger and what had happened between them in the hallway, and then in the garden, invaded her thoughts. She'd avoided it for awhile, her brain still in such shock that she still had some measure of control over it, but now her shock was gone and she was going to have to look that situation in its face.

You felt it, right?

She recalled Parker's arms around her, how right it had been to be held by him. How every molecule of her being had recognized his touch.

A cruel trick of the universe.

Those green eyes, seeing right into her soul.

I don't think I can just kiss you.

A cramp of longing hit her so hard she doubled over in her chair.

And then it was Scottie's voice:
You will never look at the world the same way again.

***

The rest of the day was a blur of doctors and care instructions and driving Scottie home. He grinned at her the whole time as if it was all a big adventure, which irritated her but didn't make her as angry as it usually would. She was just relieved she'd gotten him out of there. More than one health professional at the hospital had remarked that he was lucky to be in the shape he was in, all things considered.

She discovered that painkillers made him more useless than tequila did when she struggled to drag his weight from the truck to her cottage. It took the better part of an hour, but she managed to tuck him into her guest bedroom without incident. There was no way he was going home alone, and she needed to do damage control by keeping him from talking to people about what they'd done.

Knowing her father, he'd be across the compound, knocking at her door and checking on her within minutes of arriving home, so there was no way to hide Scottie from him; not to mention Scottie's truck was parked in front of her house.

Pouring herself a cup of tea, she had just settled onto her couch, exhausted, when her phone rang.

"We're on our way home," her mother chirped. "How was your weekend?"

"Busy," she answered honestly. "Scottie had some trouble and I had to take him to the hospital, so he's here."

"At your place?" Her mother sounded delighted. Apparently the bit about the hospital hadn't been impactful enough.

"Yes! Did you hear me? He was in the
hospital
."

"Well if he's there with you now then he must be okay. What did he do, get in a bar fight?" Her mom sounded way too gleeful, clearly a holdover from her own youthful attraction to bad boys. She could hear her father in the background asking about the fight.

"Something like that," she lied.

"He's a feisty one."

"That he is." Charmaine sighed.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I'm just tired, Mom. I'll stop by later, okay?"

"Okay, Sweetie. We'll see you in a bit."

She closed her eyes and snuggled into the cushions, determined to take a bit of a catnap. She was asleep for all of two minutes when the phone rang again.

"Yes?" She didn't bother to hide her impatience. She knew it was her mother.

"I just spoke with Shannon. She's going to call you."

"Did I need to know that? I mean, if she's going to call me, won't I know it when she calls?"

"Don't be a smart-mouth. She's not calling till later, but I wanted to tell you she'd be checking in on Scottie."

"Okay then. Thanks for the call." Her eyes closed again and she sank back, pulling her soft throw from the back of the sofa and covering her legs with it.

Another buzzing of her phone.

"What now?" she snapped.

There was silence and then a familiar deep voice.

"Charmaine? It's Parker."