Vivian Arend - Granite Lake Wolves 2 (15 page)

He’d throw himself off the roof before he hurt her physically, but he wasn’t sure

if that was what he’d meant at all. “I know.” He scraped his teeth over her skin

and fought a groan when her body jerked under his. “Tonight’s just going to be

something good, honey. You need that. We both do.”

“We both do,” she agreed, and the way her voice trembled made his fingers

tighten around the button of her jeans. The fingers of her free hand traced over

his shoulder and down his arm, following his biceps. “You never did tell me what

else you kinky Green Beret werewolves like. Are we talking Discovery Channel and

hair pulling? Or, like, whips and chains and leather skirts? I didn’t pack any vinyl,

just so you know…”

He yanked the button free and nudged her zipper down slowly. “Good thing I

have plastic wrap in the kitchen,” he joked.

She laughed, low and breathless, and there was something distinctly naughty

about the look in her eyes. “I let a guy try to tie me to the bed with plastic wrap

once. The idea was much more appealing in theory than practice.”

“Do you usually sleep with stupid guys? That’s not what the plastic is for.” He

levered himself up and reached for the drawer in his bedside table. “See,
this
is

what you use to tie a woman up.” He dragged out several scarves and let them

drop to skim over her bare breasts as he moved them to his other hand.

He didn’t need his enhanced senses to register her approval of the idea. Her

nipples tightened under the teasing brush of silk, and she sucked in a sharp breath

as her eyes fluttered shut. “I didn’t sleep with stupid men. I slept with

overeducated men. Sometimes that’s worse.”

“Losers come in all shapes, sizes and tax brackets, honey.” He reached for her

arm and froze when he saw the wrap around her delicate wrist.
Shit.
He’d

forgotten about her sprain. “This is a bad idea.”

Her eyes popped open again. “What? Why?”

He grinned, his ego soothed by the fact that she’d forgotten, as well. “You’re

hurt.” His thumb stroked over the bandage. “It slipped our minds.”

“So don’t tie me up.” She shifted her other hand and slid it down his back. “Save

something for later.”

They should be saving it
all
for later, for a time when he could think, when his

mind wasn’t so scrambled by desire. But he still dropped the silk to the bed and

stretched out over her, his lips finding the bare, vulnerable curve where her neck

met her shoulder.

She drew in a breath and let it out on a soft sigh as her fingers drifted lower. Her

hand dipped under the waistband of his jeans, and she turned her head so her

breath tickled against his ear. “I’m thinking the clothes need to be gone.”

A sharp, quick tug brought her jeans off her hips, revealing the white cotton

panties she wore. “All of them?” he teased as he hooked one finger under the

elastic band and pulled gently.

“I was talking about
your
clothing.” But she lifted her hips a little in obvious

invitation. “Not that you don’t look absurdly hot in nothing but jeans, but they

might get in the way of my plans for the evening.”

Joe drew the cotton down her legs along with her jeans. “I know what you were

talking about, honey.” He left his own jeans buttoned and in place. “Plenty of

time.”

She braced her elbows on the bed and lifted up a little to watch him. “And what,

exactly, are you planning to do to me that’s going to take all this time?”

He laughed and dropped her pants on the floor, then teased the back of her knee

with his fingers. “I didn’t know you wanted a formal program for the evening.”

“Mmm, no. I’ve got confidence in your experience.” She shifted her leg and

rubbed her calf against his side. “I think we can go forward without an outline.”

“Good to know.” He climbed on the bed, this time stretching out beside her and

twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. “I’m better at winging it, anyway.” He

used the tip of one curl to tease over her skin, then followed the invisible path

with his tongue.

She responded with a shiver and an encouraging noise. Her hands found his back

again, more aggressive this time as she dragged her nails lightly over his

shoulders. He swallowed the growl that rose in his throat and stroked his hand

down her belly and between her thighs as his lips parted over her breast and he

sucked her nipple into his mouth.

She arched up to his touch, hot and wet, and his fingers slipped against her. This

time, he groaned against her skin and caught her nipple between his teeth.

“Oh,
God
…” Her hand groped at the back of his head, and she choked on another

moan as she shifted her legs apart and rocked into his touch with shameless

abandon.

He barely brushed her clit, teasing more than anything else, and moved to swirl

his tongue around her other nipple. He remained there, touching her without

deepening his caresses, and waited for her to come to him.

It didn’t take long. A whimper escaped her and she dug her feet into the bed and

arched her hips into his touch. “
Joe!
”

He turned his face to her neck. “What?”

She wiggled a little and somehow worked a hand between them. Her fingers

rubbed against his cock through the fabric of his jeans, and she moaned again. “I

am way too turned on for teasing.”

He clenched his jaw and moved his hand lower and pressed one finger inside her,

rocking the heel of his hand against her. “Better?”

Brynn groaned, and her hand shifted up until her fingers encountered his belt.

She swore softly and clutched at it as her hips rocked with his hand. “Fuck! I…

can’t—oh
Christ…
”

“That’s right,” he murmured. He drew his finger back and thrust another one in,

as well. “You want me naked, you have to come for me.”

Someone wants their perfect weapon back, only she’s not coming quietly.

Stripped

© 2009 Marcia Colette

Alexa Wells wants her life back. She’s just not sure what that life was. The

memories inside her head—a stripper’s—aren’t hers, and before she humiliates

herself onstage one more time, she sets out to collect the scattered pieces of her

mind. The trail leads to Boston, charges of identity theft and murder, and the
real

bombshell: a forgotten werewolf lover who insists she’s a werewolf hybrid.

Matt York doesn’t care that she looks at him like he’s been smoking crack

between court cases. Now that he has her back he’s not about to let her go it

alone, even if she can easily kick ass and take names all by herself. Amnesia only

scratches the surface of her problems, and like it or not, she’s stuck with him.

She’s also stuck with Robert Gamboldt, a venture capitalist who’s not above

murdering his way to the top. He’s not about to lose his prize possession without

playing dirty. It’s a simple enough offer. Be his personal assassin, or go to jail.

With options like that, it’s enough to make a hybrid go full-blood.

Warning: Delicious sexual tension with a werewolf who’ll wait as long as it takes

for his hybrid werewolf mate to come around.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Stripped:

Matt’s wild scent came through like fresh cologne. I smelled him all the way over

the railing and into the bushes where he had disappeared.

Woods enveloped my surroundings. I leaped over large boulders and rotted

stumps, following his trail. Strange that I honed in on it among the woodsy scents.

I could even pick out the fresh rabbit trails and deer that had left crisscross paths

along the ground. When I came to a small ravine, I slid down the incline and

splashed into the frigid brook at the bottom. Matt’s scent had disappeared, but I

continued in a straight line anyway. There was no reason why he’d head

downstream unless another animal was after him and he wanted to lose the

scent. Grabbing a thick root, I climbed up the opposite side of the hill.

I stopped and whiffed the air. Still, no male wolf smell. Damn. Maybe my senses

were wrong after all.

Stupid as it sounded, my instincts urged me to go down on all fours. It was a good

thing I was in the middle of the forest or I’d never have lived this down. After

dropping to my knees, I pressed my face close to the earth and sniffed around for

a scent. I must have looked like a wild woman raised by dogs, pushing my way

through leaves and twigs.

A smell hit me. On the smooth surface of a small rock, I found a piece of Matt.

Excited, I continued searching, picking up more and more until I found the right

direction again. I hopped to my feet and darted through a thick copse.

Branches and twigs snagged my sweats and pricked my calves. Twice, I tripped on

rocks and thick roots, but they didn’t stop me. I needed to find him before that

maniac hunter put a bullet in his ass. I was sure he wasn’t hurt or I would’ve

smelled blood on the air.

Something about this experience brought back pieces of my dreams with me

running through the woods. I half-expected a pack of wolves to filter out of the

shadows and run with me. They didn’t, of course, but in a way, I wished they had.

At least those shadows were friendly. Heaven only knew what awaited me out

here.

A black wolf leaped from a band of thick foliage. I stopped and threw my back

against the nearest tree, cold bark biting into my back.

Matt—my gut said it was him—growled. His ears flattened on his canine head

and his lips peeled back to reveal a set of serrated teeth. The only signs of his

human half were in his mahogany eyes. However, with the searing hatred burning

through them now, I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure about that.

He lunged.

I ducked to the right and threw my fists in front of me, ready to fight him off. I

guess I was wrong about anything human behind those eyes once he had turned

into a wolf.

Matt landed somewhere behind my tree. A man screamed and stumbled

backward. The wolf’s powerful jaws remained clamped around his assailant’s arm.

Jerking his head from side to side, he hung on until bones cracked like a person

biting into an apple. The yanking had turned into a pull as he tore the arm off and

let it fall to the ground. Matt lunged at the man’s throat, silencing his horrific

screams.

The savagery of his kill bothered me, though I knew it shouldn’t. If my dreams

were correct, I had killed a few werewolves of my own, only I didn’t have sharp

teeth to do it with. However, that cute butt and those adorable dimples didn’t

seem cute anymore. Part of him was human, but full acceptance meant choosing

the beast inside him too. That scared me. I didn’t want to be a savage like that.

Matt stumbled away from the unmoving body. In fact…he stumbled a lot.

Any doubts I had left me. I ran to him and dropped to my knees.

A whine came through his closed muzzle as he walked with a slight limp.

Whenever he stopped moving, he lifted his left paw off the ground or barely let it

touch.

“Come here, you big baby.” I snatched him by the scruff of his neck and buried

his head between my breasts. That might be just the thing he needed to calm

down. “Let me see.”

He groaned and pulled away. I got rough with him this time. Matt tripped into

me, so I wrapped one arm around his neck and held him still. He was a powerful

animal, but I held my own and examined his shoulder. Maybe this was the best

way to respect the wolf side of him. Through power and strength, seeing as he

seemed to understand that most.

Blood matted his fur. At first, I thought it was from the man he had killed, but

even after I cleaned it with my fingers, more appeared. Jagged pieces of skin

about the size of a quarter kept pooling with blood. It looked like a graze, which

meant he’d be okay. If he were human. Being a werewolf, I couldn’t be sure.

“You need to change,” I said. “You up to it?”

This time, Matt pulled away and settled down on his belly. His head lowered

between his front legs and he closed his eyes.

His fur rippled. Seconds later, something began slithering underneath his

bubbling coat. Several cracks jolted his legs and back. His tail was the first to go. It

began receding into his tailbone until it disappeared. His face broke in several

different spots just as his pointed ears began to round off and shrink back to

where they were level with his eyes. Clawed paws elongated into fingers, thumb

pressing out on the sides. With the exception of his head, his black hair had

thinned out like a man balding on a time-lapse camera.

Minutes later, a naked man lay on the ground with one leg bent and the other

one sticking straight out at me. Had the circumstances been less urgent, I might

have sat there and admired the view.

Talk about getting your signals crossed…

Wolf Signs

© 2009 Vivian Arend

Granite Lake Wolves, Book 1

Robyn Maxwell doesn’t care that her brother has to cancel out on their

backcountry ski trip. She can do it alone. The fact she’s deaf doesn’t make her

survival skills any weaker. The chance to get away from it all and relax in the

Yukon wilderness is just what she’s been craving.