Vice (Fireborn Wolves Book 1) (11 page)

She reached for his face again, but he caught her wrists in his hands and spread her arms, the angle forcing a subtle arch to her upper back. “You are beautiful,” he said. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, rolled it over his tongue, bit it gently. A guttural sound came from deep within her throat.

“You like that? God, Laina, I want to bury myself in you. I want to make you scream.” He released her wrists and cupped her breasts with both hands, the water lapping against their skin.

She kissed him gently and bit his bottom lip until he groaned.

“Upstairs.” He carried her out of the pool still wrapped around his hips. “I want to do this properly.”

She ran her nails down the muscles of his back as he walked her, dripping, through the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. He rolled her onto her back on the bed and slid her panties off.

She reached for him.

“Let me look at you first.” A deep need to please him ignited within her and she froze. He placed his hands on her knees and spread her legs. “Put your hands behind your head.” She did, although the position made her feel exposed and vulnerable. Her skin prickled with heat under his gaze. He placed a finger in the hollow of her throat, trailed his touch down her breastbone, over her stomach, and between her legs. She arched into his touch. He kept going.

“Please,” she said, aching with need for him. “I want you inside me.”

His touch traveled to her center. “Oh, God, you’re wet.”

Placing a knee on the bed, he positioned himself at her entrance. It had been so long since she’d had sex, her body tightened around him. He took her slowly, gently.

She grabbed his hips and pulled him deep, hip to hip. He grunted. “You weren’t kidding about liking it rough.” He began to move in earnest, bracing himself on his elbows.

As the pleasure built and her need took over, she thrust back, taking things to the edge of pain. He moved faster, his breath quickening.

“Not yet,” she said. Straightening one leg, she flipped him over, lifting his considerable weight from below. He grunted as his back slapped the mattress.

“Strong,” he murmured.

“Yes.” She pressed his wrists to the mattress, rose above him, circling her hips. With his arms pinned above his head, she slowed things down. He tried to free himself, his face registering surprise when he couldn’t.

“Let me touch you,” he said. She instantly released his wrists.

Lifting her by the waist, he flipped her over onto all fours, slapping her ass playfully. She growled, planting her elbows. He hitched his fingers under her hips and hoisted her bottom up, sinking back into her and leaning over her body.

“You are mine, Laina Flynn,” he said into her ear. “Tell me I don’t have to share you with anyone.”

She met his eyes over her shoulder. “You don’t.”

“Good. I couldn’t bear it.” With that, he pounded into her, his hips connecting with her backside again and again. “Come for me, baby. Come for me.”

Whatever hold he had over her, her body obeyed his command. She shattered around him, howling with pleasure, hers giving way to his.

When the last of the aftershocks rippled through them, he rested his forehead on her back and trailed kisses up her spine. She collapsed on her side, legs trembling with that stretched-out, used-up feeling she previously had only associated with shifting. He helped her under the covers.

Tucked into the curl of his body, her mind blanked under the gentle caress of his fingers in her hair. “Stay with me tonight,” he said. “In here.”

She sighed, positioned her head in the nook of his shoulder, and fell fast asleep.

W
hen Laina woke
, she was being bopped in the nose by a wet snout that protruded from beneath a set of giant brown eyes. Milo blinked at her unapologetically. She must’ve forgotten to lock his crate last night. He stomped and wagged his tail before licking her face.

“Eww.” She wiped the kiss away.

“You can hardly blame him. You are positively delectable.” Kyle hovered over her, using one arm to slide her under him and kiss her forehead.

She smiled. “Kyle… Did you mean what you said last night?”

“Remind me what I said.” He gave her a wry grin.

“You said I was yours and you couldn’t bear for me to be with anyone else,” she whispered. “Was that just talk in the moment, or did you mean it?”

“Oh, yes, I meant every word.” Any hint of humor left his features and he held her eye contact as if he were searching her soul. “How about you? Any hesitation to agreeing to those terms?”

She closed her eyes and smiled. “None at all.”

“Good.” His arm slid under the arch of her back and he shifted between her thighs.

“What about Milo?”

“Milo can wait.” Indeed, Milo did wait, although Kyle’s lovemaking was quick and efficient, sending Laina over the edge in a matter of minutes.

In the aftermath, though, Milo whimpered softly. “He really does need to go out,” she said. “I can take him.”

“No. Get dressed. I’ll come with you. There’s something I want to show you.”

The world’s fastest shower later, Laina met Kyle in the backyard where he was already waiting with Milo. “So, what did you want to show me?”

“It’s back there, in the woods, behind the fence.” He pointed to a gate on the other side of the expansive yard.

“Let’s run, Milo needs the exercise.”

“What? Why?”

She grinned before breaking into a jog as much for her own sake as for Milo’s. Her wolf was unusually close to the surface, and she was desperate to burn off the raw energy. Milo loped easily beside her, but Kyle struggled to keep up. She tempered her pace.

How could she possibly have entertained the idea he was Jonah? Sure, he was athletic, but his gait was slightly uneven and his pace was entirely human. When she reached the back of the massive yard, she slowed to a stop.

Huffing, Kyle rested his hands on his knees. “Running. Isn’t. My. Thing,” he said between breaths.

“What is your thing?”

He grinned and scratched the back of his head, the look of vulnerability returning to his features as his eyes shifted to the side. “Bossing people around. Isn’t it obvious?” He nodded toward Hunt Club in the distance.

“I don’t believe it. It doesn’t suit you. You can barely boss Milo around.”

She met his eyes. The morning sun made them blaze butterscotch with just enough flecks of green and brown to remind her they were hazel. The smile faded from his face. For a moment she felt like the polished veneer he commonly wore moved aside and she was staring straight into his soul. He cocked an eyebrow. “Bossed you around well enough last night.”

“I stand corrected. I rather like your bossiness under the right circumstances.”

He straightened, fully composed. “Come on. There’s a trail back here.”

He led her to a gate in the fence at the back of the property, where they melded into the woods on a narrow dirt path that twisted and turned. An intense peace came over Laina as the forest swallowed them, the songs of birds overhead joining the whirr of cicadas and Milo’s panting. Behind her, Hunt Club became a distant memory, completely concealed by the auburn, evergreen, and saffron colors of early fall. There was nothing else. No traffic. No voices.

“How much land is yours?” she finally asked, curious as to how far they could go.

“Just over five hundred acres.”

Her eyebrows shot heavenward. “Why on earth do you need that much property?”

“I’d like to turn this Hunt Club into a resort. Horses, tennis, skeet shooting, snowshoeing in the winter.”

“I thought Hunt Club was a lifestyle club, essentially liquor and women.”

“It is, for now.”

“You want to make it something more?”

“Maybe. Nate’s not a fan of the idea.”

Laina analyzed his guarded expression. “Gerty thinks you want to make this your permanent home.”

“Gerty knows me better than anyone.”

“Why here? Why now?”

Kyle waited a long time before responding. “The other ones weren’t for me. This is the only club designed with my permanent residence in mind. There’s something about the woods, the wild. Plus, it’s the place I can practice my hobby.” He turned down an even smaller branch of the trail, then came to a stop at the base of a clearing. Milo sat and waited as they’d trained him to do.

“Good boy,” Laina said, ruffling the dog’s ears. When she looked up from the mastiff, she followed the exposed roots of an enormous oak tree, to its trunk, up to a rustic tree house intimately designed within its branches. Intimate because the craftsmanship gave the illusion the house was a natural extension of the tree, the walls designed from interwoven branches, some of which were still alive, still growing.

“Who made this? It’s beautiful. The artistry is incredible.”

When he didn’t answer, she looked at him. “Me,” he said simply. “You asked what my thing was. It’s this. When I’m not being the boss of people, I build tree houses.”

Eyes wide, she shook her head. “It’s impossible. It’s like something out of a fairy tale.”

“Come on. I’ll show you inside.”

“What about Milo?”

“He can come too. There’s a ramp.” He walked around to the back of the tree where a selection of cleverly placed shrubs concealed a plank bridge that sloped to the bottom of the structure. As the three approached the door, she inhaled deeply. Cedar and pine—the source of Kyle’s unique scent.

Kyle pushed open the rounded door, which reminded her more than a little of a Hobbit hole, and ushered her and Milo inside. Although less wild than the exterior, the interior was equally charming. Maple floors melded into rough-hewn log walls, the bark preserved in places to continue the illusion that the tree had bloomed a house rather than simply supported one. The only furniture was a small daybed and a driftwood end table with a battery-powered lantern.

“It’s possible to build these with modern amenities, but I’d need help for that. It would be too hard to hide the crew.”

“Why do you need to hide the crew?”

“Like I said, this is my dirty little secret. When my father was alive, he’d call it wasting time. My brother would say it was a distraction.”

“You built this yourself?” She exhaled in amazement. Dropping Milo’s leash, she ran her hands along the sanded wood of the windowsill. The big dog trotted to the daybed and curled up on the multicolored afghan spread.

“Not entirely. Gerty’s husband, Arthur, helped me. He has a passion for it as well. But aside from him and Gerty, you are the only one who has ever seen it.”

She bit her lip. “But why would you keep this a secret? I get that your family might not like you wasting your time, but you’re exceptionally talented. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

The grin that spread across his face told her he appreciated the compliment. “My time is not my own. My father was a businessman, his father was a businessman, and so on, as far back as anyone can remember. If my cave-dwelling ancestors could be tracked down with a time machine, I’m sure we would find Ogg Kingsley peddling flint and slingshots from a rock near the communal watering hole. Nate would flip if he knew the hours I’d put into this, hours that could be earning the family more money.”

Laina smiled faintly. “So, Nate isn’t supportive of your hobby?”

“Nate, the board, our partners. My father might have punched me in the face.”

“I hope you’re joking.”

“He was the type of guy who felt actions spoke louder than words.”

“That’s child abuse.”

He chuckled. “Rich people don’t abuse their children, Laina. Don’t be silly.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her wolf baring her teeth at the thought of anyone punching Kyle for any reason. “Is part of you glad he’s dead?”

With a visible jerk of his head, Kyle’s eyebrows pinched over his nose.

“I’m sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I don’t know what came over me.” A complete brain hijack by her wild side would be the only explanation. She was mortified.

His face softened. “Laina, this is why I’m drawn to you. You’re honest and genuine, probably the only person in my life who cares to see things for what they are. The truth is that my father was not a nice man. Herbert Kingsley provided for us. He was a talented business partner. But he wasn’t a father to me, not emotionally.”

“I’m sorry.” Running her fingers through the back of his hair, she glanced toward the window as the ping of rain against glass signaled a coming storm. A heavy feeling settled in the space between her heart and her stomach. As genuine as Kyle thought she was, he still didn’t know that she was a werewolf. He could never know. In just ten days, she’d have to shift again. What excuse would she give him to leave? How long could this go on?

“Last night, I noticed the tattoo on your arm. It’s a phoenix, right?”

She nodded.

“The artwork isn’t anything I’ve seen before. Did you design it?”

She tapped her fingers on the windowsill. “I know what it’s like to have a controlling family. It’s like you have no will of your own, like your choices don’t matter.” Her gaze drifted through the window to the rain-tapped shades of green beyond.

“What happened to you, Laina? How did you end up here, really?”

A long, heavy silence settled in the tree house. “You asked once if I was part of the mob.”

“You told me you weren’t.”

“I’m not. No organized crime involved.” She looked down at her trembling hands. This was a delicate truth, fragile as butterfly wings. “My family belongs to a rare culture… a society different from your own. You’ve heard of gypsies?”

“Real gypsies. Like the Romani?”

She nodded. “My culture is similar. Ancient. We have a strong, prescriptive patriarchy. Women and children do what the male leaders of their households say to do. If they don’t, things can get violent. Our family maintains a delicate balance with other families, families of the same culture. There are rules of our society, traditions that might seem silly or meaningless to you but are the glue that holds us together and maintains our family bonds. This tattoo represents my family group.” She tapped her right shoulder.

“So, why are you in hiding?”

“One of our own decided he didn’t want to live within his role anymore. He wanted more power. He wanted power over all the families, to make his own rules and use our society’s resources for his own gain. He wanted it so badly he was willing to kill for it.”

“Kill?”

“The first day I was here, I mentioned my parents were murdered several years ago in a theater.”

“I remember.”

“My parents received an invitation to a production of Shakespeare’s
Macbeth
from a local animal rights charity. All proceeds were promised to advance the organization’s goals. My mother loved animals almost as much as I do, but I couldn’t go. I was finishing veterinary school and my brothers were busy with their own lives at the time. None of us could attend with our parents.”

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and tangled her fingers on the windowsill. “When they arrived, other families were there too, families from my… culture, along with others they’d never met before. During the final act, a masked gunman shot and killed everyone in the first four rows, including my parents and my best friend’s parents.”

Kyle winced.

“The police assumed it was an act of terrorism. They never caught the gunman. Over a year later there was another murder, two more elders from my society found dead. This time, they did catch the perpetrator, the son of one of our leaders. He confessed to killing my parents. That’s when we learned the tragedy wasn’t a random shooting. My parents were murdered by a man named Alex Ravien Bloodright. He wanted to rule my society. The man killed his own parents out of a bottomless thirst for power. Thankfully, the authorities captured him and he was imprisoned.”

“But…”

“Recently, he escaped. My brother, Silas, is a detective. He hunted Alex down and there was a confrontation. Alex was killed. But his supporters have vowed revenge and threatened me directly. Specifically, we think Alex’s right-hand man, Jonah, is targeting my family.” Her voice petered out at the end as though she’d run out of air, and she rested her forehead against the window. She’d told him too much, too close to the truth without revealing the furry details.

Strong hands gripped her upper arms and Kyle’s face reflected in the window over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Laina,” he said genuinely. “You’re safe here. Hunt Club has the finest security in the world. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She turned within his arms to face him. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll bring a killer into your life? Why would you want this… drama?” she whispered.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

She shook her head weakly.

“From the moment I saw you in Four Paws, I’ve been enamored. You’re enchanting. Beautiful but natural, feminine but brave as hell. You had me when I saw you care for Milo like he was your own. I fell deeper when that asshole clocked you in my club and you took it like a fucking champ. Fuck, you’re made of steel. You own me, Laina. It’s like this magnetic connection, a pull at the center of me that leads only to you. I couldn’t stand to see you working at Monty’s. I had to know you. I
had
to make you mine.”

Laina’s nostrils flared on an inhale, the warm, heady scent of Kyle’s skin flooding her olfactory lobe. There was a sharp tang of hunger, grit, and sweat; the cotton of his shirt; a hint of Milo; finished wood; and under it all, the faint whiff of arousal, hers and his. The urge to bury her face in his crotch was almost overwhelming. What Kyle had said to her was romantic, but the pull he described could be nothing like the deep, gnawing desire that ached in her core.

When his lips neared hers, his face moving closer, she lost all control. Lifting onto her toes, she slammed her mouth into his. She dug her fingers into his shirt. His hand entwined in her ponytail, tugging her head back. He trailed tiny, nipping teeth down her neck.