Wild Love (Wilding Pack Wolves 2) - New Adult Paranormal Romance (11 page)

Noah released her, turned on the car, and drove them away from the motel. They were quiet during the drive to his apartment. She didn’t know what would happen when they got there, but she decided in that moment, that whatever happened, she would let it.
She almost died tonight.
That thought kept ringing through her head with each passing streetlight strobing her eyes. She didn’t want to die like this—lonely and scared to have a relationship with a man because it might trigger that dark place she’d been in before. She wanted to
live her life…
in every way. Maybe this would be the first and last night she could spend with Noah Wilding. Maybe her heart would get broken in the process. But she would be
living
for once in her life—with all the joy and pain and sorrows that went with that. Life held no promises, no guarantees… not even that there would be a tomorrow.

And Noah was a man who would protect her with his life—had already saved her once—and she couldn’t possibly ask for anything better than that.
Anyone
better than that.

When she got to his apartment, she would show him exactly how grateful she was.

The pounding in Noah’s head from whacking it against the motel bathroom wall had subsided—but he was still kicking himself for putting Emily in that room in the first place. He quickly drove to his apartment, which wasn’t far, then ushered her out of his car and up the elevator to his apartment. She’d been quiet the whole time, obviously still in shock, and he wanted to get her someplace he knew would be safe. He could have taken her to her own home, but honestly, he wanted to stay with her for a while, make sure her shock wasn’t going into overdrive, and it would have been hard to come up with an excuse to stay in her apartment. At his place, he could keep her until he was sure she was okay… and then take her home.

Although it was already late. He should probably just tuck her into his bed and crash on the couch. But first, he wanted to make sure she was actually okay.

Noah flipped on the lights and held the door for her. Emily eased past him, flitting looks like she wasn’t quite sure what was going on. He closed the door behind them and ushered her toward the living room. He’d only been stateside a couple months, and he’d just moved in a few weeks ago—he hadn’t had much to unpack, and even less in the way of décor, so the place screamed
bachelor living.
But it was clean. And the couch was comfortable enough.

“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing to the brown faux-suede couch.

She perched on the edge, looking nervous.

He knelt next to her, getting a good look at her face. The tears had dried, thank God. That had about undone him. And she seemed calm if still a little wide-eyed. “Are you too warm or too cold? Sometimes shock can chill you.”

She smiled, tentatively. “No, I’m good. I think… yeah, I was definitely in shock there for a while. My head was buzzing.” She gave him a sheepish look.

“But you’re feeling better now?” he asked. That was a really good sign, actually. That she’d already had some symptoms, but they had passed.

“Yeah.” The smile was back, stronger.

“How about something to eat? Or drink? I don’t have much, but—”

“Just come sit with me, Noah.” She patted the couch next to her.

“Yeah. Okay.” That surprised him, but he was quickly by her side, knee-to-knee on the couch. He couldn’t resist tucking a wayward piece of her long, blonde hair behind her ear. “Please tell me you’re really okay.”

“You’ve asked me, like, fifteen times.” She smirked a little. “This is as okay as I get.”

He smiled, and the relief was real. She sounded like herself again. He bit his lip. “Just feeling guilty, I guess.”

She leaned toward him, touching his cheek, suddenly close.

All the breath went out of his body.

“You don’t need to feel guilty,” she said softly. “I wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want to do.”

Then she shocked the hell out of him by leaning in further and kissing him. It was just a soft brush of her lips on his, and then she was pulling back, watching his reaction… but it lit a fire in him that reflexively had him reaching for her, bringing her back for more. She moved closer on the couch, digging her hands into his hair and deepening the kiss.

He held back the moan and forced himself to pull back. “Emily,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Are you sure about this? You’ve just been through—”

“I almost died.” Her voice was a whisper, but it froze him. Then she kissed him again, just that soft touch, and pulled back to look into his eyes. “You saved my life. And I want to live it.”

Oh, man…
he was in such trouble with this. “Are you sure?”

She didn’t answer, just pressed her soft lips to his.

His beast was growling with need, and he wasn’t at all sure this was wise, but he couldn’t force himself to say no. He pulled her tighter into the kiss, then hooked his arm around her waist and eased her into his lap. She was so short, she fit perfectly—her tight bottom on his legs, pressing against his quickly growing erection, her lips at just the right level for kissing, and her body calling to his hands. He had one at the back of her head, bunched in her hair, angling her so he could plunder her mouth with his tongue. Her small moans, deep in her throat were driving him wild. He wanted to devour every inch of her sweetness. His other hand slid under her t-shirt, along her hot skin to the back, unhooking her bra, so he could have free rein with her breasts, which were pulling against the fabric of her shirt and taunting him as she arched her back.

His beast ached for her. Noah growled and nipped his way down her neck, taking small tastes as he went. Her gasps and heaving chest were ramping up his desire like crazy. He wanted, no
needed,
to hear her screaming his name. He shoved up her bra, his hand still under her shirt, and roughly grasped the fullness of her breast. The mewling sound that came out of her mouth and the insanely tight perking of her nipple on his palm just drove him on harder. He yanked up her shirt, eager to get his mouth on that sweet bud, but when he did, she gasped in a way that was
not good…
and pulled away.

She hastily pulled her shirt back down and folded in on herself with hunched shoulders.

“God, Em, did I… did I hurt you?” He hadn’t even reached her breast with his mouth, but maybe, somehow, he had hurt some something along the way. She was so small and delicate…

“No. No.” She was shaking her head, but it wasn’t entirely for him. She stared down at the hem of her shirt, twisting it in her hands. “No,” she said again, more resolutely, then smoothed down the shirt and looked up at him. “No, I want to do this.”

He frowned. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to.” She nodded, like she was convincing herself, then she scooted closer again, putting her arms around his neck and brushing his lips with hers.

But she was
shaking.

He stopped her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…” She swallowed. “I just… haven’t done this in a while. Out of practice. That’s all.”

He held still, even more unsure now. His first thought at their original hookup was that she was far too nervous—that maybe this was her first time, not just with a WildLove hookup, but with sex of any kind. That thought came rushing back—if she simply didn’t want to admit it before, for some odd reason… “Are you sure this isn’t, you know, actually your first time doing this?” he asked as gently as he could.

She pulled back, suddenly cold, and he instantly regretted the words. “Very sure.” She wrapped her arms tight around her chest, locking him out completely.

God, he was an idiot. “Emily, it’s really okay if it is. I didn’t mean anything bad, I just—”

“It was my uncle.”

Her words stopped him cold. His entire body froze while his mind sprinted to catch up. “Your
what?”

She stared at the couch between them. “My uncle. Just once. I was sixteen.” Her hands were turning white with how hard each finger was digging into her arms.

His skin was ice cold, a frozen sheet that barely contained the surging anger of his beast. His mouth struggled for words while his mind fought to keep his wolf inside, contained… because all of sudden, it wanted to
kill something.

Her brow scrunched up, and she slowly dragged her gaze up to his. She was expecting him to say something—to
respond,
for fuck’s sake—but he was still molten lava under the ice sheet, barely keeping himself together.

“Is he still alive?” Noah had to force the words out. They were rough. Abrasive.

She leaned back, like that was the last thing she expected him to say. “No. Car crash. Couple years ago.”

The ice holding him together broke, but he didn’t explode. Didn’t shift. Instead, it was just enough release to keep him human.

“Good,” he said, voice still rough. “Otherwise, I would have had to kill him.”

Her eyes went wide.

He rubbed both hands over his face, still trying to come back from losing it altogether. He meant every word, and he would gladly have ripped that goddamn rapist uncle into small, bloody chunks, but he knew that wasn’t what this was really about—her uncle wasn’t the man Noah truly wanted to kill. That volcanic anger was years of wanting to kill the one man he never could…
his father.

For doing exactly that to Noah’s mother. Repeatedly. For years.

He swallowed down the sickness rising at the back of his throat—the memories flooded back, the barely suppressed knowledge that he had, as a child, known all along what was happening to his mother. Straight up until he found her bleeding out on the kitchen floor.

“I… I should probably go.” Emily’s whispery voice barely registered.

But when it did, it snapped him out of his haze. “What?”

But she was already scrambling off the couch. “I understand,” she said.

“Understand
what?”
He caught her around the waist, holding her from fleeing. She was trying to
leave.
Because he fucking handled this like a moron. An emotionally crippled moron.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled, pushing ineffectually at his hands holding her. “Most guys wouldn’t want to… it’s okay. I understand.”

“No.”
He lurched up off the couch, looming over her, stopping her frantic attempts to run away, before he thought about what he was doing. She cringed under him, eyes flying wide and terrified. He immediately softened his hold on her waist, then let her go, and eased back, not touching her any longer. “Emily, please don’t leave.” He swallowed down his regret for not doing this better and poured every bit of non-verbal beseeching he could into his eyes. “Please stay. Let me explain.”

The wildness in her eyes calmed, and a small puzzled look took over her face. “You don’t have to explain. I know it’s strange to find out that—”

“Please.” He was flat-out begging her now. “I
do
have to explain. And then I want to kiss you again. And more. If you’ll let me.” He had a small tremble of fear run through him—ice cold and terrifying and not something he’d felt in a long, long time—all because the uncertain look on her face made it seem like she might leave anyway.

“You still want to kiss me?” She said this like it was almost impossible for her to understand.

“God, yes.” Then he reached for her, just for her hands, and gently brought them to his lips, kissing the backs. “And so much more. Please just… sit with me. Let me explain.”

She seemed dazed but nodded. He eased back down to the couch, bringing her with him.

“I know you think wolves are, well, these amazingly good guys…” he started, but then stalled out at the shine in her eyes. He was going to crush her fantasy about shifters, but it couldn’t be helped. He swallowed, and continued, “But not all wolves are good.”

She just waited for him to go on, hands clasped in her lap.

“You may have heard about my father, Colonel Wilding.”

“He was in charge of the experiments,” she said softly. “Including the ones on you. I know.”

He nodded. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t exactly a stellar guy at home, either.” Noah sucked in a breath and let it out slow. It had been so long since he’d really thought about this, and besides his sister, Piper, and his brother, Daniel, he hadn’t really discussed it with
anyone.
It wasn’t the kind of thing people wanted to hear. “My father basically kidnapped my mother and forced her to mate with him.”

Emily’s horrified look sent a twinge of shame through him.

He hurried through the rest. “That’s not the way mating is supposed to work, but female wolves are in short supply, and some assholes don’t want to miss out, so they basically steal what they would never be able to win over by choice. My father was that kind. He killed the man my mother was mated to, breaking the bond so he could take her as his own mate. And once the new mating bond took hold, there was no way for my mother to break free. It’s a bond for life. And for years…” Noah fought through the closing up of his throat. “For years, my father used that against her. I grew up watching her slowly waste away under the daily abuse of being mated to a man she didn’t love. For as long as I can remember, I knew the only reason me and my brother existed was because he
forced
himself upon her.”