A Wicked Wolf

An eRedSage Publishing Publication This book is a work of complete fiction. Any names, places, incidents, characters are products of the author‟s imagination and creativity or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is fully coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form whatsoever in any country whatsoever is forbidden. Information: Red Sage Publishing, Inc. P.O. Box 4844 Seminole, FL 33775 727-391-3847 eRedSage.com

A Wicked Wolf An eRed Sage Publication All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2010 eRedSage is a registered trademark of Red Sage Publishing, Inc. Visit us on the World Wide Web: http://www.eRedSage.com ISBN: ISBN: ISBN: ISBN: ISBN:

9781603105590; 9781603105606; 9781603105613; 9781603105620; 9781603105583;

160310559X 1603105603 1603105611 160310562X 1603105581

A Wicked Wolf A Wicked Wolf A Wicked Wolf A Wicked Wolf A Wicked Wolf

Adobe PDF MobiPocket MS Reader HTML ePub

Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows: A Wicked Wolf © 2010 by Brenda Williamson Cover © 2010 by Fiona Jayde Printed in the U.S.A. ebook layout and conversion by jimandzetta.com

A Wicked Wolf ***

Do you want an alpha male, handsome dangerous and oozing sex appeal? Meet Nick Wolfe, a man with uncontrollable needs and the strong desires to want, please and be loyal to one woman for the rest of his life. And then meet Randi Brown, the woman that finds an escape from life in the dangerous world of Lycans, never suspecting how her affair with Nick puts her in peril of ending up dead like his wife. Sex, Lies, and Love abound with a mystery worth solving.

Chapter One Randi tensed every time her rental car hit a rut in the dirt trail cutting a path through the forest and coiling upward around the tall mountain. She‟d never liked the country atmosphere with all its bugs and wild critters. But then again, she‟d never had much opportunity to venture out into the wilderness and get a closer look. When dark clouds rolled overhead, darkening her surroundings, the dense forest took on a gloomy appearance. She felt isolated on the rough and narrow course she followed. The car bounced in and out of another pothole. “Road,” she scoffed with a shake of her head. “If this is a damn road, then I‟d hate to see what this billionaire has for a house.” Hungry and thirsty, she stuck her hand in her purse for a mint to appease her rumbling belly. She found one stashed in the bottom and unwrapped it to pop in her mouth. While sucking on the candy, she tried imagining the scene at the end of her journey. Would she find a fancy mansion? Probably not. After a drive on the pitted road, a ramshackle hut better fit the stories of the eccentric‟s, mysterious lifestyle. Beyond the rumors her boss had told her when he rushed her out of the office, she hadn't done her usual in-depth profile about a prospective client's personal life. She knew about the Wolfes' vast wealth from articles in the newspapers over the years, but that was the financial section. It had given stock reports, mergers, but nothing about the man or his family. Had he ever been married? Were there sons or daughters handling different phases of the business? All that information would have come in handy. 5

A Wicked Wolf She followed a path barely wide enough for her four-door luxury car. Branches raked the exterior like fingernails scraping against a blackboard. The nerve-wracking screech echoing from the silver fiberglass had given her a headache. The rental company would charge a fortune for scratches. She cringed at the thought. It wasn‟t her fault the route couldn‟t handle a shiny sedan. She expected the millionaire to live on a paved road. “Damn hermit,” she grumbled, admonishing herself for believing the trip would be simple. She hated a cold call on an iffy real estate deal. That was what newbies in the profession did. She took pride in her seasoned professional career. Yet, even she needed to keep the flow of money coming in as steadily as possible. She had two siblings to take care of, and bills didn‟t wait for year-end deals. Randi took a deep breath to relax. Tired, tense and bored, she tried thinking of something pleasant. What she wouldn‟t give to be in some horny guy‟s apartment, listening to soothing music and getting fucked. She needed a good banging. She‟d been so busy at work that she had turned down dozens of real dates. The last screwing had been a quickie in her office with a young mail carrier over two months ago. The thought of him in his tight brown shorts made her insides clench. “Not now,” she chastised her excited libido. Denying she required a physical outlet was like stopping rain. She didn‟t possess magic skills, and oh, how her body needed. She felt ready to jump the first male she came to, with the exception of the infamous recluse, Nicholas Wolfe. She couldn‟t imagine she‟d be hot over a crusty old codger. At the next pothole, she swerved and nearly ran off the road. The close mishap didn‟t stop her from finding some release for her sexual hunger as she rubbed her hand over the crotch of her slacks. Without panties, she felt the rough seam against her sensitive clit. The dampness of a mild orgasm soon soaked the soft 6

Brenda Williamson denim. There was too much going on in her life for a committed relationship right now. She had a career to build. And after her parents‟ death, she‟d automatically become the head of the family. Earning money was a practical necessity that didn‟t leave room for sentimental journeys. Even though forced by life to avoid relationships, she still indulged in recreational sex at any opportunity. She wondered about Mr. Wolfe. What had driven him into seclusion when he had the riches to do whatever he wanted? She didn‟t know any personal details about him. Her mistake for not doing the research. But her boss was so pushy, insisting she go meet the man and not have any preconceived notions about him. Too late there. Everyone knew he wasn‟t approachable, and that marked him an eccentric. That he owned the biggest parcel of land in the area and, according to reports, refused to sell any of it, pegged him as obstinate. What more was there to know? This was going to be a hard man to deal with. While her pointless trek through the backwoods would stop most people, she had more to gain then lose. Everything— everyone in her life—depended on her success. She‟d be sitting in sound financial heaven if she could maneuver the tricky drive up Wolfe Mountain and close a deal with Mr. Wolfe. Imagine his surprise at her sudden appearance and her stalwart determination. Most businessmen appreciated a financially solid deal, even if it meant ruthlessly selling the homestead. “He‟ll be my greatest challenge.” She chuckled, imitating the dastardly tone her old boyfriend used to use. He said it was to entertain her, but she knew it was his way of rubbing in the fact he'd one-upped her on some of the best real estate deals. Randi continued fingering the cloth covering her sex. She slid her hand up to the waistband of her pants and then back down beneath, touching her shaved pussy. Her swollen clit quivered. She 7

A Wicked Wolf rubbed the nub faster to increase the friction. Vibrations from the car added to her stimulating strokes. Her insides tingled with a slow rising heat. Her breasts swelled, and her nipples tightened, aching for attention. Only she didn‟t have a free hand to caress them while caressing her deprived cunt and driving the car. The euphoric sensation of her orgasm intertwined with visions of a man screwing her into sore exhaustion. She fought writhing on the seat. When the rumble of thunder startled her, even dragging her fingers from her clenching pussy didn‟t subdue the tremors. She pulled her hand out of her pants and grasped the steering wheel. Then she closed her eyes for the briefest instant. She hated storms. They had frightened her ever since the night her parents had died in a car accident during a storm. She didn‟t know if it was the reminder of her loss or the fear something might happen to her, leaving her teenage brother and sister to fend for themselves. Suddenly, the steering wheel twisted in her grip. She opened her eyes, panicked that she was stupid enough to lapse into selfinduced pleasure while driving. Closing her eyes to will away bad weather had almost made her lose control of the car. She clutched the wheel tighter. Her continuing shudders eventually eased, leaving her prickling with small quakes. She silently admonished herself for almost being killed by carelessness. And then a deer darted at her from the left. She slammed her foot on the brake pedal as a huge blurry mass of brown leapt in front of her car. She swerved right, but her reflexes were too slow to avoid hitting the animal. The thud echoed around her. The front end of the car lurched, rocked, and settled at a forward slant into a ditch. She opened her eyes, not realizing she had squeezed them shut tight. Had she hit a deer or had he hit her? She looked through the mud-splattered windows. Nothing was visible in the bleak forest. “Damn.” She took a deep breath, shifted the transmission into 8

Brenda Williamson reverse, and gunned the engine. It roared like a race car, wheels spinning, but didn‟t budge. “Now what?” She opened the door and looked back. The rear tires hovered above solid ground. “Just f-ing great.” Dropping her shoulders in defeat, she reached for her purse and rummaged inside for her cell phone. Her handbag had always been a catchall for anything worth saving—business cards from influential people, pens that usually didn't write, and candy. Everywhere she went, little individual peppermints, butter mints, or lollipops caught her hand in the bowl as if they were alive and demanded she take them with her. With her hectic schedule, she never stopped for a proper meal, so she lived on the stuff. Today, though, by an unfortunate happenstance, she had a clean purse— new and fresh for filling. “Ah, here you are.” She flipped open her cell phone. A black screen greeted her. She pressed the On button. Nothing happened. “Crap.” She tossed the useless phone back in her purse. Suddenly, big raindrops made a rhythmic splat on the windshield, and thunder rumbled louder. She turned off the engine. “Why is bad luck my friend today?” She got out of the car and looked at it. Her car had nose dived into a trench. The back end was up and off the ground by no more than an inch. As she walked around, she tried to think of a remedy. She looked around trying to spot the deer, but he seemed to have disappeared into the woods. From the dents in the hood, it appeared his only impact was leaping on and then off her car. Rain worked through the treetops, soaking her and everything around her. Knowing nothing about cars, especially how to get one out of a predicament like this, she returned to the rear and studied the tires. “Why is it your ass end is up, and I‟m the one getting fucked?” She pounded on the trunk in frustration. Rain poured down. The wet foliage and scattered fall leaves had no traction. She slipped 9

A Wicked Wolf and fell hard. “Shit,” she cried, landing on rocks camouflaged by weeds. She clamored to get up, thinking about bugs and snakes lying in wait to bite her. Her black ankle high boots had a pointy two-inch heel, and she tried turning her foot to dig it into the ground. A few false starts, but she finally stood. Muddied and still holding her purse, she staggered forward while adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. Nervous and intimidated by the dark, dismal forest, she glanced around. From behind, she heard a cracking snap. Was it a branch breaking? And animal coming toward her or scurrying away? What kinds of creatures lived out there? She was a city girl. but she'd heard the stories about mountain lions and bears. A wolf howled, making her eyes widen with concern for her safety. The car, she thought. Nothing could get her in there. She took her first step in that direction, hoping to sit inside and calm her nerves. Mud had filled the ridges in the soles of her boots making the bottoms slick. She inched along, sliding her fingers across the wet fender, searching for a handhold. The sky was gone, hidden by the dark mass of clouds and the end of day. In the city, she liked going out to clubs at night, prowling the upscale locations for a handsome man to prey upon for sex. On a desolate mountain, in an eerie forest, she felt like a sitting duck. The next victim of anything horrible. Another crackle of a breaking twig pushed her to move quicker. She let go of her steadying hold on the fender. Her left foot slipped and her right followed. She plunked down on her butt into the muck. Her fall didn‟t end there. She fell back on the muddied leaves and slid down the slope. A sound of surprise squeaked out of her as she traveled a few feet, paused, and then tumbled. She rode the slimy surface nearly ten yards before coming to a stop. With the constant rain obscuring her surroundings, she lost sight of the car. Why hadn‟t 10

Brenda Williamson she left the ignition on so the automatic lights couldn‟t shut off? Each move she made, she slid again. She knew what it was like to feel like Alice going down the rabbit hole. Everything was strange. She moved to get up, but she kept falling, slipping, sliding, rolling, and colliding painfully with the rough terrain. Nothing was in reach except for the unstable earth she clawed for dear life. Finally, she grasped a sapling. Her purse had twisted enough times around her upper arm to make a tourniquet. Her limb throbbed and her fingers felt thick and almost numb. She pulled on the twiggy vegetation to drag herself up. It uprooted. “Oh, shit,” she cried, tumbling farther down the craggy hill. Then her bag snagged a root, stopping her downward skid. She cringed as the jolt shot pain into her shoulder where the purse strap banded her arm. “Oh, thank God,” She panted, flipping onto her back to catch her breath. Rain hit her face. “How lovely,” she grumbled sarcastically and wiped the wetness away. “How much more am I to take?” The rustle of leaves, the thump of footsteps, and the constant howling of more than one animal increased her need to get up. She listened to the mournful baying of several wolves. Was it by coincidence, or did they signal one another that she lay helpless for their attack? She had to get to safety. Her position on the unforgiving mountainside was of no help. The ground gave way. “Not again.” Her squeal echoed, drowning out the sounds that scared her. She kicked her feet, stabbing her heels at the mushy ground. Unable to see, she imagined her heels made grooves in the gravelly mud as she slowed. Scrambling to grab anything, she dug her fingers into wet leaves and came up with nothing. Did the 11

A Wicked Wolf mountain have no end to its abuse? Then someone‟s fingers locked around hers, and her heart clutched in terror. The stranger dragged her to solid ground. She gasped a shaky, “Thank you.” Exhausted, she remained on her back, and gazed up at the dark outline of a man towering over her. Afraid she‟d found an inbred maniac on the loose—who else would be out in the rain? She dared to ask, “Who are you?” “What the devil are you doing here?” Anger roughened his deep voice. She squinted to focus on the large, hovering form. Rain blurred everything except the craziness rattling around in her noggin'. She‟d read the news, seen the movies. Had they caught the person who‟d abducted women campers over the years? A rainstorm of lurid pictures flooded her brain. She couldn‟t think. She didn‟t move. What could she do against a murderer? Terrified, barely able to breathe, she watched him step closer. The rifle cradled in the crook of his arm scared the crap out of her.

12

Chapter Two Nick eyed the woman with mixed emotions. He didn‟t like her intruding on his solitude. His privacy. Her scent distracted him from his hunt, interfered with his thinking, and worse, aroused him. “Well?” He lifted the barrel of the rifle to rest on his shoulder. “What do you have to say for yourself?” “I‟m Randi Brown, and. . . and I‟m. . . I think. . . . No, I know I‟m lost. Who are you?” Startled like a woodland animal, she stared at him with hauntingly beautiful blue eyes. Beneath the mud smeared on her face were her alluring features. The curve of her jaw, the shape of her mouth, and the way she crinkled her nose attracted him. “There‟s nothing up this way, so how did you get lost?” Water dripped from the wide brim of his hat, but he could see her maneuver her womanly curves to get off the ground. Although it wouldn‟t take much to get his notice, her mucky pitiful appearance was oddly seductive. The time of the month shattered any chance he had of looking the other way. One whiff of the female‟s pheromones was lethal to his senses. Neither mud nor rain had a chance at toning down the alluring stimulant. A sound in the forest caught his attention. He turned his head, surveying the area for signs of someone else approaching. No one appeared. It still didn‟t mean someone hadn‟t also caught her scent. “. . . and I was driving on a road, or something that looked like a road.” She was still speaking, and he missed much of what she said, except the important parts about real estate and buying the 13

A Wicked Wolf mountain. “Then this big deer ran out in front of me and I—” “Doe or buck?” he interrupted, looking to the west. The buck he‟d been hunting had an impressive rack of horns that would fit his new chandelier. Wealthy people liked the shabby-chic crafts he made. The shop that carried his work paid a good price for each painstakingly created object. Not that he did it for the money. Living on the mountain gave him a peace worth more than any bank account. “I don‟t know. I wasn‟t thinking about it at the time.” She put her hand to her forehead, forming a visor over her eyes and shedding off the water. It was an evening thundershower, nothing more. Soon it would move out of the area. If not for the clouds covering the moon, the woman would have had trouble keeping him off her. She looked miserable covered in mud, trembling from the dampness. At the same time, she was a temptation that had his hormones on overdrive. “Like I was saying.” She pushed back her wet hair. “I got out of the car, the rain came, and after seeing my wheels up in the air, I slipped and fell. You‟d be surprised at how an inch off the ground matters when you‟re trying to get a vehicle to move.” “Not surprised at all.” He refocused his concentration on the deer. “Did it have antlers, big ones with seven points?” “Points?” She shook her head and frowned. He watched her rub her fingers over her mouth, spitting mud away when she realized her hand was dirtier than her face. “So anyway, because I don‟t know the area, I was unsure where. . . .” She cocked her head and stared at him. Then her face lit with revelation. “Yes, it had antlers, gigantic ones. The poor thing looked like it would fall over from the weight,” she said, wiping at her clothing as if she could clean away the grime. Unexpectedly, she slipped and fell forward against him. The brief touch of her hands heated his insides. He took a breath and 14

Brenda Williamson held it. The firmness of her breasts sent tremors pulsing through his body. He squeezed his hand tighter around the barrel of the gun he held. Her scent rose up his nostrils like an aphrodisiac taking possession of his senses. Her closeness sent his raging hormones into orbit. He stepped back, letting her deal with standing on her own. From his nose to his toes, the nerves throbbed and the blood vessels thrashed. His molecular structure began changing. He clenched his jaw, fighting the shift, wishing he had inherited more of his mother‟s genes than his father‟s. “Is that the one you were looking for?” Her gaze flitted to the gun he held and then back to his eyes. “He‟s the one,” he grumbled. Nick turned away and began walking in the direction he figured the buck had gone. He had to move away from her before her apprehensions increased. “Wait,” she cried. “I said I was lost. Can‟t you help? Maybe a phone I can borrow?” “No phone. Stick to traveling downhill,” he said gruffly, “and you‟ll get to the highway.” He took longer strides, hoping the darkness would hide him should he lose the battle within himself. He took a few more steps. Then the sodden crunch of wet leaves and twigs alerted him that the woman followed. She had no idea the danger she had put herself in by pursuing him. “Where do you think you‟re going?” he growled. He turned around, angry, alarmed, and so hungry for sex that even a small taste of her muddied skin wouldn‟t have quenched his desires. Lust driven by abstinence, he watched Randi advance. Her wet clothing stuck to her skin, outlining the curves of her hips and breasts. “I drove a long time. It‟s a far walk downhill,” she complained with a huff of impatience, unaware of the danger to herself. “Well, you can‟t follow me. You‟re like a wrecking ball. I heard 15

A Wicked Wolf you for a mile, and it‟ll be a miracle if I find that buck now.” He backed away from her steady approach. “Don‟t you have a car? Or a horse?” she snapped back, tracking him in boots with ridiculous high heels. “Hell, I‟ll ride a goat if I have to, but I‟m not walking by myself.” She continued toward him, closing the space, moving into the treacherous proximity of his reach. “I don‟t go down the hill,” he grumbled. He had distanced himself from society a long time ago. His interactions with others were rare. He wished she‟d leave and let him have back that modicum of peace he‟d found. At the same time, his predatory urges gained ground. Her inappropriate clothing mesmerized him. The lightweight material clung to her with wet greed. As the dirt washed away, the thin white cotton of her blouse became almost transparent, enhancing the peaked crowns of her breasts. With a few undone buttons, the gaping top let him see the pearly swells of flesh. Beads of water sluicing down her chest went straight into the crevice. He imagined finding her skin a sweet delight as he licked her clean. “Maybe I can stay with you?” Her hands fidgeted over her clothing. He thought she had read his thoughts until she continued. “I mean at your cabin until morning?” “Stay with me?” He tensed right down to his balls. “Like all night?” “That‟s what „stay until morning‟ means.” Even her voice tempted him with its seductive edginess. “No.” The words rushed from him. He couldn‟t have a woman under his roof. There hadn‟t been a female in the cabin for years. She‟d pose a temptation he might not resist. His self-control had limits under the power of the full moon. 16

Brenda Williamson “I‟ll sleep on the floor if need be,” she argued, unaware that it would make no difference to him where he pounced—where he mounted her like an animal. As if on cue, a wolf howled his awareness of the fresh scent. Another answered the challenge to find her. How many of them were coming, hunting for the chance to mate this delectable female? If just one rogue got to her, he‟d tear her clothes to shreds and make his claim. A branch snapped, signaling someone neared them. Randi‟s head swung right and then left. “What was that?” Fear rattled her voice. She had good hearing if not good sense, Nick noted. On the night of the full moon, Wolfe Mountain became a stalking ground for unmated males. He gave them sanctuary as long as they obeyed his strictest rule—not taking a female by force. Most Lycans respected the law, treating one another as well as their own kind with civility and respect. But then there were the scoundrels, young studs that lacked the discipline to restrain their inbred instincts. A Lycan bitch could often handle them. A human female had no chance. He had to get her out of the open fast before the wolves came. Since they couldn't fuck her as animals, they'd have to change into their Lycan form—a man with some animal-like features. “It‟s too wet to hunt the buck anyway. Follow me,” he said, and started the hike home. “Yes, the darkness would make it difficult to see,” she said. “It‟s not the dark,” he muttered. “Then the rain?” she asked, apparently interested. Afraid she‟d see how foolish she was to trust him, he didn‟t look back. “It‟s the disadvantage the buck has in the rain. I prefer to give him a sporting chance.” “Oh.” Her tone suggested she didn‟t approve of sporting chances, or killing deer. She probably ate meat and thought it 17

A Wicked Wolf came wrapped in plastic packaging at the grocery store, all the messy brutality of its final moments a non-event. “It‟s a full moon tonight,” she went on. “I saw that on the weather report this morning. They didn‟t mention rain.” “That‟s in the city. The weather‟s different up here.” Nick glanced over his shoulder when he sensed she‟d stopped. He saw her sweeping her hands in circles from her shoulders to her chest, to her belly, to her thighs. She repeated the moves, mesmerizing him. “What are you doing?” he asked, taking a quick check around them again. “I‟m filthy.” Nick swallowed hard, fixated by her simple moves. He followed the progression from one pointed breast to the other. Unconsciously, she whisked her hand from where her navel hid under the cloth to the fabric hugging her undoubtedly supple legs. He let his imagination wander with her strokes over her hips and bottom. When she reached behind to wipe her buttocks, the gesture thrust her chest out. A button straining to hang on popped free. He stepped forward, staring at the crease of her cleavage until her hand covered the area. “I figure, while I‟m getting wet, I might as well try to remove some of this mud.” Her voice brought his gaze up. Entrancing blue eyes, wide and curious, stared at him. The innocently sultry bat of her lashes taunted him. His heartbeat slowed for a second, then pumped faster, forcing the blood flow beneath his skin to give him goose bumps. His hands and arms tingled as follicles of hair grew. He clenched his fists, fighting the sensations coursing through his body. Changing into a beast wasn‟t an option. He had to back down the restructuring—a painful feat given he was up against thousands of years of natural instinct ingrained into his genetics. Maybe there was a need in the 18

Brenda Williamson beginning of their creation to preserve the breed, but the development of their intelligence should have erased the almost spontaneous process. He hated how vulnerable he felt. It was one of the reasons he had shunned the human world he had once been part of. Randi brushed at her bag. “Ouch.” She jumped with a short, sharp squeak, and shook her hand out. Her cry of pain broke his primitive descent into becoming an animal. His heart thumped slower, like a normal man‟s again. The attraction remained, but he was back in control. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand up. “Let me see.” “It stings. What is it?” she whined. He rubbed his thumb over her grime-covered palm. “Ow! Stop that,” she protested weakly. “It‟s a thorn.” He held her fingers. “It felt like something bit me.” She tugged again. He ignored the involuntary reaction. Then he opened his hand to let go, worried his desires were clouding his judgment. She didn‟t withdraw. Wet and muddy, her smooth skin stuck to his palm. He lifted her hand and studied the surface, then looked into the depths of her watery eyes. “I feel the tip.” Gently he slid his thumb around the area again. Randi cringed, showing her dislike of pain. “You have tweezers at the cabin?” Her practical question broke his trance. He stroked her wrist, stopping at the pulse throbbing beneath her delicate skin. The rhythmic beat quickened, as if trying to catch up to the way his pulse hammered every fiber of his being. He tipped his head and looked down her blouse. Water dumped off his hat and flowed into the cleft of her breasts. “Oh!” She leaned toward him, grasping the sleeve of his jacket and pulling herself closer to him. “That‟s cold.” 19

A Wicked Wolf She tilted her head back, cocking it to stay under the shelter of the brim of his hat. He stared at her mouth. Her puckered lips worked like a magnet reeling him in. Her warm breath fanned his face. The hint of mint drifted up his nostrils. Beneath his vinyl slicker, he perspired far worse from her closeness than from the night heat. “How far is your place?” She appeared as if she floated up, closing the distance between their noses, almost as if she wanted to be kissed. “Not far,” he said. Too far, he thought. He needed a reason not to give in to her body squirming against his. It didn‟t help that he sensed her eagerness for sex. As the danger grew unbearable, he shook off the idea she wanted him. He must have misread her body language. His imagination had run rampant because of the pressure he was under. Not that knowing he might be wrong helped. His insides shuddered, warning him of the Lycan‟s emergence. If it hadn‟t been for the clouds covering the full moon, he‟d have shifted in the blink of an eye. Nick chose another form of diversion. He tugged Randi‟s arm up and pressed his teeth to her palm. Her small sound of surprise died as he yanked the thorn free and spit it to the ground. Blood bubbled from the pinprick, tempting him with a different kind of hunger. He ran his tongue over the iron-rich flavor, savoring the salty sweetness. The small taste enhanced his primal needs. The human in him fought to resist, but his wolfish need to possess her was too strong to ignore. His cock throbbed, stiff against his thigh. Her willingness to submit worked through his mind, building fantasies out of slivers of reality. The urge to tear off her clothes and do what instinct said was right chased reason away. As he lapped at her palm, Randi‟s tantalizing soft moan drove him toward madness. He lived on the mountain to avoid 20

Brenda Williamson complications and getting hurt. She posed a danger to the peace he had strived to maintain from the human world. She was a threat to his self-control and to his very sanity.

21

Chapter Three Randi fought the impulse to jerk from the riveting appeal of the handsome stranger‟s lips caressing her hand. She didn‟t know him. How could she let him drag her into such passionate, kinky foreplay so soon? She liked wild sex, but this backwoodsman was moving way too fast for her. “I think it‟s gone,” she said, wheezing. He looked up at her with a glazed, sensual expression. A glint of white protruded from the corner of his mouth almost as if he had fangs. A spot of liquid red smeared his bottom lip. She used her thumb to wipe her blood from his mouth. His fingers squeezed her hand, almost crushing her bones. And yet she didn‟t want to stop touching him. All sense of propriety fled. She rubbed his lips, thinking how wonderful, how hot, they would feel against hers. Letting her fingers slip to his chin, she stroked the stubble on his face. A muscle in his jaw clenched, his hair grew coarser, and his skin quivered. She blinked, bewildered by the illusion. Abruptly, he released her and turned away. She shivered against the chill whipping around her. Automatically, she folded her arms over each other and rubbed her hands against the wet fabric clinging to her skin. The stranger turned back toward her and shrugged off his slicker. “Here, you can wear this,” he said, holding it open for her. “Thank you.” She slid her arms into the sleeves. He let go of the raincoat, leaving it up to her to wrap the oversized garment around herself. The heat of him clung to the inside, enveloping her in the comfort of his kindness. 22

Brenda Williamson Water dripped from the trees, constantly landing on her. She wiped her face several times to dry it off to no avail. Above the steady patter of rain rose an animal‟s howl, closer than before. The sound sent another nerve-rattling shudder through her. Unconsciously, she stepped toward her rescuer. He stepped back, making her aware of her move. “We should go,” he said, nervously looking away. The strange reaction reminded her to be wary of him. But what was she to do? She wasn‟t going to stay out in the rain alone, in the dark, in the wilderness, in danger of an animal attack. “Okay,” she replied. When he walked, she trudged up the hill behind him. She kept going over in her mind the way he stared at her then suddenly avoided her. What was he thinking? At first, she felt suspicious. Now that she‟d considered his expression, she had to wonder if he was thinking of kissing her. No. Her exhausted brain was coming up with nonsense, the same way it was toying with the idea of kissing him. He glanced back, and her face heated with embarrassment. She touched her cheek, rubbing the rainwater around to cool her burning skin. She‟d barely seen what he looked like and didn‟t know his name. Still, something about him attracted her far deeper than when she just wanted a sex fix. Not as physically fit as she‟d thought she was, she struggled to keep pace with him. Each of his strides carried him farther than hers did. She took quick steps not wanting to fall behind. The eerie blackness of the forest frightened her enough to keep within sight of the stranger. But how did he see where to go? Beyond him, she saw nothing. “Excuse me.” Randi stumbled forward, feeling klutzy. “Is there a path or something you‟re following?” He walked faster. Warning thoughts clanked about in her head, putting her on edge. He might be a lunatic racing through the 23

A Wicked Wolf woods. Was she any saner, having invited herself to wherever he lived? She thought she had outgrown her childhood phobias of the dark and thunderstorms. Then when she was twenty, her parents had died. It had happened the night of a severe storm. After that, storms stressed her out. Now, several years later, she still suffered pangs of terror. That terror had followed her to Wolfe Mountain. Lost and alone in a gloomy forest with a roiling storm overhead, she was surprised how she'd trusted her fate to a stranger. What if the man she trailed planned to take advantage of her? The idea of being raped disgusted and horrified her. But raw, passionate sex with him made her stomach flutter and her crotch dampen. Another rumble of thunder jostled her nerves and jarred her from the reveries of sex. She focused on her hike. Which direction did they go? Where was the path masquerading as a road? Did the stranger know the way, or was he guessing? Men never wanted to admit that they were lost. She didn‟t ask again. If they weren‟t headed in the right direction, who would they ask? It had taken twenty long minutes to get to the cabin. Finally, the dry shelter loomed at the top of the mountain like an asylum. With relief, she stared at the lights ahead as a beacon. She had no other clothes and hoped, since the stranger was letting her stay the night, he‟d find her something clean to wear. Or offer his large warm body pressing her into a soft mattress. Then it occurred to her, slowly, as if the rain had waterlogged her brain. Whose cabin sat at the top of Wolfe Mountain? Was it the elusive Mr. Wolfe‟s? And the man leading her? Who was he? Surely, he wasn‟t the millionaire recluse traipsing around with a gun, looking for a deer in the dark? Maybe a neighbor or a relative who had some insight as to how she‟d get Mr. Wolfe to sell his land. What a stroke of luck. Her rampant thoughts calmed until a crack of thunder made her jump. She squealed, and the man looked back. 24

Brenda Williamson His eyes twinkled. Was that amusement she detected? He seemed too serious, too stern to find humor in anything. No, it had to be a fluke from the glow of the moonlight. She glanced up and noticed how the moon peeked through a break in the clouds. If only the rain would stop. She trailed the mysterious man like a wet sheepdog. Her heels sunk into the water-softened earth and her feet stuck to the ground. It was work to walk. By tomorrow, when her calves ached with cramps and her ankles throbbed from the strain of twisting her booted feet in the muck, she‟d wish she had stayed home. Tonight, she tried focusing on how helpful the stranger could be with her professional quandary. When he stopped to right a fallen-over clay flowerpot, her curiosity rose. It crushed her thoughts of business. She watched the denim tighten across his buttocks. She‟d love to see him naked from the rear. Her imagination ran wild as she pictured the hardness of his ass against her palms. How she‟d love to scratch those cheeks and feel them clenching as he thrust his cock into her. Wouldn‟t it be perfect if he were Mr. Wolfe? “Damned squirrel,” he mumbled none too softly. “Like I don‟t have enough chores to do around this place.” Ah, an employee, the caretaker, she decided upon hearing his complaint about work. Still, she could work with that. He‟d be a fountain of information about his boss. Near the house, he gathered several pieces of firewood from a pile ten feet from the wide stairs, then continued toward the heavily carved door at the top of the porch steps. Randi hung back. What if her guide was an impostor and the house wasn‟t Mr. Wolfe‟s? After all, darkness and shadows could make things look larger than they were. He glanced back at her. “You coming?” She slogged along the wet, uneven road. While the rain had cooled the day, it was still warm out. So why did he need firewood? 25

A Wicked Wolf An image of the wicked witch lighting a fire to cook Gretel in her oven zipped through her head, and he said, “Hurry up. I‟ll get a fire started in the fireplace to help you dry out.” He waited at the door. She felt both vulnerable and ridiculous, but climbed the six steps to the door and slipped past him so she was in the house first. The only thing impressive about its outside was its monstrous size. Inside was beautiful. “People with money,” she muttered. What a waste to have a huge place where the caretaker spent more time than the owner. If anyone could afford to be extravagant, it was the Wolfe family. Their name was synonymous with wealth. It was historical. It was a fact. The mountain alone would be a geyser of cash if the last known Wolfe would sell. Of course, why would a man with more money than she‟d see in ten lifetimes need more? She‟d have to work on his greed. The rich always wanted to be richer, and Mr. Wolfe should be no different. “You must work for Mr. Wolfe,” she stated offhandedly, trying to gather information. “You could say that.” “This is his house? I mean, he comes here to stay, right?” she asked, suspecting it was the handyman‟s job to keep everything ready for him. “He sleeps here.” That seemed logical. Mr. Wolfe probably liked to kick back in an ordinary way—to retreat from his grueling high-finance global travels. Except that she‟d heard he‟d dropped out of sight, so where was he? “Will he let me stay the night?” She hoped the man hadn‟t dragged her a half mile uphill to turn her away. “He won't like it, but unfortunately for him, he‟s too nice for his own good.” He closed the door.

26

Brenda Williamson “I won‟t assume that of you.” She gave a shake, purposefully spraying him with excess water. “Humph,” he grunted, propping his gun in the corner and walking to the fireplace where he deposited the armload of firewood into a box. She studied him discreetly, absorbing information, wondering how much he knew about Mr. Wolfe. Details. Details. She needed them. They‟d give her an edge in convincing Wolfe to sell. He was every realtors‟ dream jackpot. It wasn‟t as if she wanted to prove herself to her overbearing boss. He was a flyspeck in her scheme of things. However, since the deal had landed in her lap, she would make the best of it. No one knew she planned to go out on her own. With profits from the Wolfe deal, she could hang out her own sign, put her sister and brother through college, buy a nicer house, and maybe acquire rental properties to cover fluctuating real estate sales during the slow times. Desperate for security for her family, she clung to the strategy of landing the biggest developmental deal of a lifetime. Randi dripped profusely, making a puddle on the hardwood entry floor. She took off the raincoat and handed it to her host. While most of the outside of the house had been in the shadows, nearly invisible, the inside was well lit. From the foyer, she surveyed the room beyond the arched timber. A blend of rustic simplicity and modern comfort made the room inviting. The large, hand-carved furniture showed patience and skill in the detailed design of vines and leaves on the legs and arms. The cushions on the sofa were warm shades of tan and brown animal hide. On the wood-paneled walls, where windows didn‟t take up most of the space, hung oil paintings of flowers, birds, and anything with a nature theme. Dominating the furniture was a big stone fireplace. On cold winter days, she‟d enjoy relaxing in front of it reading a good murder mystery. “I‟ll show you to a room where you can dry off and change into 27

A Wicked Wolf something more comfortable.” His crusty courtesy suggested he didn‟t like socializing, and his body language made her feel unwanted. The intensity of his gaze intimated the exact opposite. Lust smoldered in his dark eyes. How strange not to know him and still yearn to make a physical connection. Not feeling sexy, she glanced down at her filthy clothes. “I don‟t have anything to change into.” She swung her purse up. “My bag holds five things of importance. Money, of which there is very little, a dead cell phone, and a wallet with my driver‟s license and two maxed out credit cards. Oh, and a set of keys—one to a car I can‟t move out of a ditch.” “That was only four.” He crossed the room, apparently hoping she‟d follow. “I also have a wad of wet tissues.” She extracted them and held the soggy bundle up. “My new purse apparently isn‟t leak proof.” He headed down a hallway toward what must be bedrooms. She debated her next move. She wanted out of the wet, muddy pants and blouse, but did she dare follow him? “You coming?” he called. She took a deep breath and inched forward. Too late to question his motives. She decided to trust her instincts. He hadn‟t done anything bad yet. She picked up her pace and met him waiting by an open door. He reached inside and flicked a switch on the wall. A soft light spilled from the area. He stood in the glow, devilishly handsome. Yes, she‟d be willing to explore a closer connection to him. “Your room.” He waved for her to go first, and then backed out and leaned on the wall in the hallway, looking pale and distraught as if reliving a bad memory. She stepped forward. White lace curtains framed a large window. An eyelet comforter and pillows softened the hard appearance of a huge four-poster built from logs. Porcelain 28

Brenda Williamson figurines and trinket boxes scattered dresser tops. “I don‟t need anything this fancy.” She drifted inside, attracted by the feminine frills. “Then sleep on the porch,” he said in a serious tone. She glanced at him and saw no hint of a joke. He appeared tense, as if the room might swallow him if he came too close. She touched the bedpost as she turned and saw him avoid looking at her. Or was it her in this particular bedroom? If he was so uncomfortable, why let her have it? Suddenly, he pushed away from the wall and came toward her. Sweat dampened his hair from his hat, making it lie flat, except for where dry locks had sprung into waves. His face had classical contours, chiseled nose, square chin and high cheekbones. Soft eyebrows curved gently, yet when he spoke, they barely moved. She moved farther into the bedroom, leaving space between them. The glaring change to the color of his eyes held her spellbound and she stopped retreating and simply stared at him. His blue irises had turned gold, and now had shifted back to blue. Was it a reflection from something in the room? It had to be. Her attraction to him grew hard to ignore. What was it about him that drew her thoughts toward sex? He touched her cheek gently as if seeing her for the first time. His thumb rolled down the side of her nose, chasing the grit of mud from her skin. A quick tingling heat spread over her face from his hand brushing across her jaw. She let her gaze flit to the bed and then to his eyes, giving him silent permission to take her. His stare never wavered. She envisioned pushing him down on the cloud of white eyelet, clawing away the wet clothing from his hunky body, and having her way with him. While she thought of being aggressive, she imagined him gentle at first, caring and patient. Then the beastly nature of man would emerge, take over, and he‟d become insistent with his needs. She had yet to find anyone who was more 29

A Wicked Wolf demanding than she was in bed. Randi turned her back to him, feeling a strange awkwardness from her thoughts. After all, he was standing there, looking at—no, studying her. “This will be fine,” she said, brushing aside her fantasy. “There are clothes in the closet. Use whatever you‟d like,” he told her. “The door on the other side of the bed is the bathroom.” “Thank you.” She glanced back. It depressed her that his eyes were unhappy. She had a repertoire of activities to turn his frown upside down, and her mind strayed to them again. There was no denying her physical attraction. The stranger had a build on him that suggested strength. That meant he could pick her up, hold her close, and fuck her upright. Her nipples hardened at the thought. That look of obstinacy about him encouraged her thoughts to turn to how that might best suit her. Stamina was always a plus when a man was pounding his hard cock into her. “Before dawn, I‟ll take you to your car and get it out of the gully,” he said flatly. “You never said you saw my car in the gully?” “Well I did.” She didn‟t know why that surprised her. He‟d said he‟d heard her a mile away, but that had to be an exaggeration. He must have come upon her car, seen the skid marks where she‟d slid down the hill, and then followed. No two people could bump into each other accidentally over an expanse of thousands of square miles. Randi walked to the partially opened closet and peered inside. A robe hung on a hook, and she traced a finger over the big black embroidered initial on the corner of the snowy white terry cloth. W for Wolfe. She wondered where he was and if she would meet him soon. “Whose room is this?” She flipped through some of the other 30

Brenda Williamson feminine items. “Mrs. Wolfe‟s?” “Yes,” the caretaker said, barely above a whisper. She‟d never considered he had a wife. When her boss had offered her the chance to bring in the biggest development project for the agency, she jumped into learning about his real estate holdings. Rushed by ambition and her financial crisis, she‟d cut corners and learned nothing about the man. What he did in his private life hadn‟t seemed to matter. “She won‟t mind me borrowing something?” “She‟s dead,” he said coolly. “Oh.” Randi glanced over her shoulder at him, noting the affect of the information in his expression. His avoidance of the room coupled with his somber, stiff tone made her suspect he‟d been close to the woman, maybe as close as a lover. A twinge of jealousy shocked her. She didn‟t know him, and yet she didn‟t want him to have another woman on his mind. She resumed sifting through the expensive clothing, thinking how to keep the nearly one-sided conversation going. The man wasn‟t talkative, but he could be a fountain of information if she could coax him out of his shell. “Do you know when Mr. Wolfe will come here?” she asked, hoping for a positive answer. When he didn‟t respond, she turned around. Her rescuer had skulked off, leaving her alone. She should have looked at it as a good thing since he was a stranger, but irritation coiled through her. His brooding disposition had so attracted her that she was overlooking danger.

31

Chapter Four Nick made his way out of the house. He stood on the porch, taking in fresh air to clear his head. The woman had upset the balance of his life. He found breathing hard and his thoughts bounced about. She had no idea the trouble she was in, with the Lycans in the area, with him. The sign at the foot of the mountain by the highway had always been enough to keep the uninvited from venturing uphill. Private Property. What more warning did the woman need to stay away? It was a long drive, a rough road, a place intended for no one but the inhabitants. Yet, here she was, a beautiful female reeking of sensual pheromones. Not only did he have to protect her from the area‟s Lycans, he had to protect her from her biggest threat, himself. Not an easy chore, especially when she acted like a bitch in heat. He considered the second half of his dilemma. Called werewolves in legend, Lycans had evolved from the rampaging beasts of horror. They could think and reason, though some chose to ignore human manners and morals in one primitive way— mating. The scent of the other wolf shifters in the area troubled him. Since an unclaimed female had come into their territory, she was fair game. Like men on the prowl for women, Lycans had needs too, but stronger ones. Without perfume, shampoo, or deodorant to mask the provoking fragrance of a woman ripe for mating, Lycans were relentless in their pursuit. The snap of a branch brought Nick to attention. He moved to the steps and went down two. Liquid heat ran beneath his skin, changing its surface into a thicker, hairier hide. His shirt strained 32

Brenda Williamson at the seams, threatening to rip apart. He fought to control his body even while his fang teeth dropped, forcing him to open his mouth to accommodate them. A wolf emerged at the tree line, staring at him. The gleam in his golden eyes said he wanted the female too. Nick let out a low warning growl to stay away. The wolf stepped forward, not enough out of the shadows to determine his identity. Nick let his louder growl turn into a snarling threat, an unmistakable proclamation the woman was his. It might be a lie, but he had to do it. The wolf would tell others, and fewer would come looking to challenge him. For years, Nick had taken pride in having the power to resist, refuse and deny the inner part of himself. Now that he put it out there she was to be his, a myriad of plans flowed through his thoughts. A full moon and a willing woman, coupled with his long abstinence, was going to be more difficult than usual to withstand. Did he have that strength of will? He looked back at the door. He had left it open to let out excess heat from the large fire he had built. Randi was an intrusion in his quiet life, unwelcome and yet utterly enticing. There was no shame in feeling protective of her. The wolf didn‟t move, and Nick shouldn‟t have, either. Still, Nick had his Lycan identity to conceal and that of the other Lycans stalking the woods. Nick eased up the steps toward the doorway where his gun sat propped inside. If it came down to a fight for the bitch, he‟d use the weapon instead of shifting into a beast for her to witness. He picked up the loaded gun. No silver bullets needed. There was no magic to killing a Lycan. The wolf stood his ground, his desire evident by his determination. Nick leaned in the doorway, prepared. His mind drifted to why he had put Randi in his wife‟s room instead of one of the other 33

A Wicked Wolf three bedrooms. Once a week, he went in to that sacred lair, intending to clean it out. Yet, after deeply inhaling lingering traces of Maddie‟s scent, he always sat, doing nothing, recalling what he had lost. Often two, three hours passed before he came out drained of energy. Now he‟d put a stranger there, as if the shrine meant nothing. Since his plan to take refuge in the forest, leaving Randi alone in the house, changed the minute he saw the wolf, he moved inside and shut the door. Not even a reckless Lycan in wolf form would enter his den with him there. He would have to stay and guard the woman against the pack that lay waiting for an opportunity to capture her. Nervous about her coming out again, he paced circles around the den. He stopped, closed his eyes and tried to construct an image of his wife. The impressions of her were more spiritual than physical. He wished he hadn‟t burned all the photos of her, but grief had made him crazy. He had done stupid things just short of setting the house on fire or trashing her private room. “I want to thank you.” A soft, feminine voice sent a shiver down his spine. Maddie? Nick opened his eyes. He blinked several times, thinking something had gone wrong with his vision. Had he finally gone completely mad? He rubbed a hand over his face, blurring his vision. The apparition surprised him with her quiet entrance, so ethereal, as she glided forward. How long had she stood in the middle of the room? Maddie had been dead for five years. She couldn‟t be standing before him, wearing her favorite sweatpants and baggy Tee shirt, both of which were ready for the ragbag. To her, they‟d been comfortable. “There were a lot of very nice clothes in the closet. I found the oldest outfit I could.” The apparition came closer. 34

Brenda Williamson He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to stop the deluge of images—fragments of Maddie‟s face mingling with Randi‟s. He dropped down onto the worn cushion of his chair. His vision cleared and his heartbeat pounded erratically. His mind had played tricks on him in the past. Once he had though he had seen Maddie by the creek, but that turned out to be a neighbor taking a walk. Another time he thought he had heard the sound of Maddie‟s laughter in his city office, only to discover it was his attorney‟s assistant. In each instance, he'd had a brief sexual affair with those women, nothing remotely close to a relationship. “It was in the back and out of place among the pretty things, but it suits me. I like comfy clothes,” Randi stated, her voice jarring him into reality. She sounded nothing like Maddie. He dropped his hands to the arms of the chair. The cleaned-up Randi Brown wasn‟t his dead wife. Resentment for her presence churned in his gut. A growl rumbled low in his throat. She‟d brought Maddie back in spirit and then yanked her out of his grasp. He wanted to hate her, but he couldn‟t. Was it her resemblance to Maddie that drew him? He already fought a physical need and didn‟t wish to complicate matters with an emotional one. If not for the full moon, he would have given in to Randi‟s apparent attraction to him. The thought of having mindless sex soothed him. He watched the grace with which Randi took in her surroundings. Her blonde hair hung in soft waves, framing her face and draping her shoulders. Self-consciously, she pushed it back, tucking strands behind her ears. Her glances at him made his heartbeat slow and his temperature rise. Second by second, she lured the beast by confusing his mind. Randi, not Maddie, he forced himself to remember. She neared him. Stopped and stared. As much as she tried hiding her lust, it glowed in her face. It was possible she wasn‟t aware of what she wanted. All animals had 35

A Wicked Wolf the instinct to breed. For humans, the impulse had been suppressed far longer than in Lycans. Nick dug his fingers into the arms of the chair. He fought leaping up and pouncing, giving her more than she wanted. Damn, he hated how she plucked at every emotional fiber in his body. “If you sit back with your eyes closed and think of nothing, it helps,” she said. “What?” He flexed his fingers and re-gripped the chair's arms, working against the tension twisting the tendons in his arms. How could she know what he thought he‟d seen? Or that he wanted to forget the past? “Your headache.” She smiled. “Did you take something for it? I get headaches going from the grocery store to the car. Sudden changes of temperature, I guess. It‟s cooler outside than in here. You made the fire too hot for summer.” He didn‟t have a headache, nor did he explain that to her as she walked behind his chair. His visions and suffering were his private hell. “Close your eyes, and put your head back.” Randi instructed, putting her hands on his shoulders. Mesmerized by her concern, he let the cushions of his chair help him settle into the right angle to relax. He twitched at the touch of her cool fingertips on his temples, circling against his irregular pulse. Instinct pushed him to shift into Lycan form, but her caress tamed the wolfish imperative. He chalked his ability to resist her up to the clouds that still covered the full moon. What would she do when there was no holding back the beast? His mind wandered. He thought of pulling her over his shoulder into his lap. Would the look of surprise on her face mellow into one of approval? Then he‟d tear her shirt open to let his gaze feast upon her breasts. He licked his lips, ready to nibble at her tantalizing nipples. No doubt, she‟d have delectably soft skin. 36

Brenda Williamson “How‟s that feeling?” Her seductive tone dragged his thoughts deeper. Images of Maddie danced in his head. “Good.” His lovely young wife had had a shy, giving nature when they had first met. Eventually, she‟d lost the naivete he had loved, but it hadn‟t changed his passion for her. "So you don't have a phone here?" she asked. "No." “Are you going to tell me your name?” He didn't want to talk. He reached up and gripped her hand. She tugged and her nails lightly raked his cheek. Randi, not Maddie, he reminded himself again. Behind his eyelids, tears stung from the memories her touch revived. Maddie was gone. He needed his sanity to survive. Suddenly, all he wanted was to be free of the past and hold the woman standing in his den. He longed to have someone he could touch, someone warm and loving to share his life. His dead wife had to stay locked in that broken part of his heart. He had to let someone else take her place in his life. Inhaling Randi‟s scent, he held onto its richness, rubbing her soft fingertips down his cheek, across his lips, along his nose. When she tugged again for release, he stopped his guiding moves. He opened his hand and let go. Her fingers slid down to his shoulder, and he held his breath. He made her nervous enough to resist restraint, and yet she remained with her hand resting on him. He let the breath he held escape as he got up. Stalking across the room to balance his emotions, he found the move pointless. He‟d get no relief until he was entrenched in that feminine pool of fertility Randi harbored in her body. He considered leaving the house again, getting as far from her as possible. The Lycans he sensed in the area kept him from doing so. “When will Mr. Wolfe return?” she asked, strolling out from 37

A Wicked Wolf behind the chair. He didn‟t want to lie, but he had no choice. “I don‟t know.” He circled the room, keeping his distance from Randi, but she didn‟t let him get more than a few feet away. “I commend your loyalty to your employer, but I hardly think telling me how long a wait I have is betraying any secret.” Her scent whipped around him. How did he get her to lock herself in Maddie‟s room for her own safety? She was too close. It made speech hard when his veins were throbbing, drumming loudly in his head. “And I see no reason for you to withhold your name.” She bent over to look at something near the floor. He didn‟t see what and didn‟t care. Seeing her bottom up in the air made his pulse race. The way the Tee shirt had slid up and exposed a sliver of her back whetted his repressed appetite. His expanding cock jerked, trying to jut out of his pants. He rubbed his hand over the bulge. His fingers landed on the cold metal of his zipper. How simple the move would be to release his erection. How easy to yank the sweatpants off her hips and penetrate her with his stiff arousal. His muscles ached, readjusting. He felt them stretching and twisting with the beginning of his transformation. He would take her as a Lycan. She might struggle at first, but the endorphins from his first ejaculation of semen would soothe her nerves. His skin tingled as the added follicles of hair emerged and his muscles thickened. A bitch in season needed her male to have both a commanding and physical strength. She appreciated knowing he could handle her. Randi righted herself with a book in hand, the one he had been reading. He didn‟t recall it falling on the floor. She laid it back on the table where he‟d originally left it. He 38

Brenda Williamson watched her turn. Her profile gave him a nice view of the outline of her breasts. Their fullness snatched him from thinking of her sexually. He could have sworn nothing would stop his turning into a Lycan until he imagined her breast feeding one of his children. As much as he wanted to hump the fertile bitch, he wanted a devoted, nurturing mother for his offspring more. His paternal integrity prevented the beast from emerging. He headed for the kitchen, taking long strides to distance himself from her, his mind and body working in tandem against him. He opened the refrigerator, not knowing how to find an answer. The opposing needs of his nature put him in a tailspin. He scanned the contents, searching for the strong odor of rancid meat to overpower his voracious sexual appetite. “I need to call you something,” Randi insisted, still hot on his trail. If only she knew the battle raging within him. He stood and sniffed the inside of a container to distract his senses from how enticing Randi smelled. Even beneath the fragrance of her rain-wet hair and honeyed skin, he was aware of the overwhelming scent of her feminine recesses. “Junior,” he growled the childhood nickname to shut her up. “Junior, huh? That must mean you‟re named after your father, right?” “Yes.” He set the plastic tub on the table. She picked it up. “How about I call you something more adult sounding, like J.R.?” She lifted the lid before he could tell her the food was spoiled. The bridge of her nose crinkled. “Yuck, what is that?” She stretched out her arm and dropped the container into the sink. “Deer liver.” “From what century?” She retrieved the dish and dumped the spoiled glob of meat into a trash can. “You need to purge this fridge.” 39

A Wicked Wolf She turned on the faucet and rinsed the bowl. Her domesticity turned his nostalgic longing into insatiable hunger. Maddie had made him hot like this, too. He looked at Randi while he contemplated bending her over the edge of the counter. With that vision from the den still stuck in his mind, he stared at her bottom. Two steps forward, one swat of his claws, and he‟d rip the clothing from her body. The tall white appliance shook under his grip as he pictured himself sinking his cock into her while she cleaned his dishes. Randi came back to the refrigerator. Feigning normalcy, he asked, “Are you hungry?” He lifted his arm as she ducked under and looked into the fridge. “Sort of, but I can do for myself.” In the dim light of the kitchen, he found it easy to pretend Randi was Maddie with her similar build and blonde hair. Maddie‟s clothes added to the illusion. Every female put out a unique scent, however, and Randi‟s distracted him. She was so ready for his taking. The inherent nature of his breed pushed him to inhale her and accept her as Maddie‟s replacement. Randi‟s warmth radiated through the clothes, and the comforting heat of her ripe body dragged him lower. He inhaled deeper, petting strands of her still damp hair. She rose abruptly, obviously startled by his touch. The jar of beef broth slipped from her fingers. It thudded on the floor without breaking and rolled. “Oh, I‟m sorry,” she exclaimed, turning to face him. Nick gripped the sides of her head and pulled her face to his. He stared into her eyes, desperate to find resistance. A little would go a long way. He had years of practice harnessing the beast within, and he was patient, too. He needed her denial to stop from pouncing on her like an animal. “If you want to kiss me. . . . ” With eager fingers, her hands slid over his shirt along his ribs, around to his back. They moved away from the slightly unleveled refrigerator and the door swung shut 40

Brenda Williamson on its own. He tried remembering his childhood teachings as he backed her up against the kitchen cabinets. She was human, delicate, and possibly incapable of withstanding the rigors of a Lycan breeding. The muscles in his back knotted as she unknowingly teased the sensitive receptors under his skin. She only made him want her more. The slight pucker of her mouth invited him. Her minted breath intrigued him. Finally, ignoring the warnings in his head to avoid indulging his desires, he crushed her lips with his. Her excited gasp sucked him tighter and they kissed as if that kiss would be their last. Every turn of his head, her mouth twisted to fit. He had her in his clutches and couldn‟t let go. Her passionate whimpers fueled his hunger to sate long-repressed sexual needs. The heady fragrance rising from her feminine recesses ignited the carnal demands of the Lycan. Without her protests, there was nothing to stop him from making the bitch in heat his mate.

41

Chapter Five Randi grasped J.R.‟s damp shirt. She scratched the taut muscles shaping his shoulder blades to find the best hold. Her crazy desires had always gotten her in trouble in the past. There was no counting the number of men she‟d slept with only to find they thought sex meant a relationship. Would this backwoods handyman understand that fucking wasn‟t a commitment? She pushed those thoughts away. It wouldn‟t be the first time she had to deal with a man infatuated with her. Right now, she wanted no complications interfering with J.R. devouring her with his lust. And he certainly was showing her just how hot he was to get in her pants. Apparently, men living in the wilderness held nothing back. His groans rose from his chest like a rumbling storm. He sucked at her lips and drove his tongue against hers as if it were a kissing battle. She‟d done everything, but to her surprise, she was afraid and exhilarated by the raw hunger in his embrace. She caressed every inch of his hard torso, palming his pecs and feeling his muscles rock with each gasping breath he took. She could even feel his heart pounding, almost furiously, as if it might explode. It had been months since she‟d had physical contact with a man. The cravings to have him do anything and everything to her worked up an intense heat between her legs. Anxiety coiled deep, making her insides constrict. She tried to remember her reason for being there. Her ambitious hope of making a deal no one else could craft with the elusive Mr. Wolfe. But he wasn‟t here. This sexy feral stud was, and he could give her something else she 42

Brenda Williamson wanted. Sex. Her two-month, unplanned hiatus from stalking nightclubs had left her ravenous. She felt out of control, and J.R. could give her the fucking she needed. She was sure of it as his kiss deepened. Randi leaned against him for support. Body trembling, legs shaking, she couldn‟t remember being kissed so fervently that she buckled in a man‟s arms. She preferred to be in charge, have control of everything. A draft touched her hot skin. Under the shirt, J.R.‟s hands glided up her back. He massaged her tired, aching muscles, relaxing and arousing her. Throwing back her head, she let his kisses travel along her jaw, then beneath her chin, down her neck and over to her ear. “I want to do things to you,” he murmured. “Wicked things.” She shuddered with anticipation at the thought. His statement contradicted her impression that he was shy. But how much could a handyman know about raw sex living so far from a sinful civilization? To him, 'wicked' might mean doggy-style. “Yes,” she replied, anxious to find out what he had in mind and if he would exceed her expectations. He moved in closer, his breath tickling the back of her neck. His sharp teeth raked the surface, gliding along her jugular, scratching her skin. The tingling sting shook her. He squeezed her tighter in an almost frightening restraint. Then his arms around her loosened. His groin pressed into hers, his hips gyrating against hers. She felt the hardness of his arousal grinding against the ache in her vagina. His stimulating moves worked quickly, and a spontaneous orgasm dampened her inner thighs. “Oh God,” she moaned. He kissed a trail down her neck, outlining the rim of her Tee shirt‟s collar. She slipped a hand to the front of his denims, but he pulled it away, dragging her arm up above her head. Then lacing 43

A Wicked Wolf his fingers to hers, he held her against the kitchen cabinet, a prisoner of his strength. A restrained yet eager captive to his lust. She held her breath, ready for anything. Undulating from his chest down to his hips, he pressed the length of his firm body against hers. He rubbed up and down, pushing so her back jammed against the counter‟s edge. She ignored the slight discomfort for the pleasure. Then he stopped moving and stared at her. She wrinkled her brow, finding something curious about his eyes. The color seemed different, darker. Yet the lighting in the room hadn‟t changed. She swallowed past the dry lump of apprehension in her throat and focused on other features of his face. He had a thick layer of stubble, not quite a beard. He couldn‟t have shaved in a week. His complexion was evenly tanned, showing he spent time in the sun. The shape of his nose, the set of his eyes, and the contour of his cheekbones made him irresistibly handsome. He jerked her arms higher, stretching her limbs, lifting her to her toes. She searched his gaze for a reason to stop her impulsive behavior. This was a business trip. How would it be to have Mr. Wolfe show up and find her pinned to the cabinets by his handyman? What would that say of her character? The hell with Mr. Wolfe. She didn‟t have time for him right now. Passion and excitement reflected in J.R.‟s pupils, mirroring everything she felt. Apart from his initially gruff attitude, he‟d been kind to her, rescuing her from the harsh outside elements and providing her shelter and dry clothing. How did she resist the urge to repay his kindness-- refrain from getting to know this sexy man intimately? He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against hers. His breath warmed her cheek as he dampened her face with kisses. He licked and nipped her jaw, appealing to her wild nature, but she shied away from the tickle to her skin. He gave a threatening growl and 44

Brenda Williamson nudged his body tighter to hers, wiping out any argument she tried coming up with to stop him. She wanted him as she had never wanted a man. His feral reaction had seduced her. “Take me,” she murmured, ready to find out how deep his assertiveness ran. She felt him relax. He resumed pressing his lips to her skin, sucking at her neck, nibbling her earlobe. From one side of her face to the other, he licked her like a dog bathing her. At one point, he paused. Did he feel odd about his animal-like behavior? She didn‟t open her eyes, afraid of scaring him off. “Do you want more?” She thought she heard him growl. “Yes,” dashed from her lips in a breathless rush. She didn‟t want the exhilaration to end. The gentle glide of his tongue traced the whorl of her ear, and all other thoughts disappeared. For minutes, he lavished her with kisses. His mouth moved firmer against hers, and his body rubbed hers faster, more insistently. When he stopped, she dared to open her eyes. He was looking up. She did too. From the open crossbeams, dried herbs dangled from tied silk ribbons. He let go of her wrist and reached up. She should have lowered her arm, but to move meant to chance breaking the spell. She watched him tug one ribbon, untying a cluster that fell to the floor. The clean scent of lavender burst from the bouquet. She stared at the other bundles. Had he collected them? They couldn‟t be for cooking since his refrigerator was bare. When J.R. looped and tied the ribbon around her wrist, he jerked her thoughts from the idyllic illusion of everything going smoothly in her business acquisition and her sexual encounter. “What are you doing?” Her words rattled free. With the yellow silk strip snug, he drew her arm to the side and fastened the opposite end to the cabinet door knob. As much as she enjoyed aggressively passionate sex in all positions, she‟d 45

A Wicked Wolf never been into real bondage. “I‟m not sure I like being restrained.” She tipped her head back and watched him retrieve another ribbon. “You will.” He tied a blue strip of silk to her free wrist and fastened it to another cabinet knob. Now was the time to protest and fight the binds, or surrender. He leaned against her, sniffing at her neck, then licking it. She felt its throbbing vein pulsing rapidly against the stimulation. He had more control than she normally allowed a guy. He caressed her jaw with the back of his hand. Did she want him to stop? What would she give up? His stare into her eyes suggested she‟d miss out the hottest sex of her life. The smoldering lust was more than she could resist. There was no turning back—no buckling under to convention. His hypnotizing brown eyes had command over her, and she waited, a captive audience. His gaze didn‟t leave hers as he raised her shirt. She breathed harder, feeling the light touch of his hands running up her sides and over her breasts. He fingered her nipples, rolling them around with his thumbs. They stiffened and ached from the repeated pawing. Then he stopped and stroked her sides. Intense warmth spread, prickling her skin. Goose bumps dotted her arms and shoulders. His quiet intensity fascinated her. With one hand controlling her Tee shirt, his other took a more serious possession of her left breast. He turned his hand over and brushed his knuckles against the tip. Then grasping it between a finger and his thumb, he pinched it. The fiery sting zinged her to her core. A moan escaped her. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. “More,” she begged, loving the way the pleasurable pain jarred her nerves. And yet he didn‟t give her what she wanted. Instead, he took his 46

Brenda Williamson hands away, and the soft cotton of the shirt she wore slid down over her inflamed nipples. He raised his arm and his fingers neared her face. She sensed regret in his light touch to her jaw. Turning her cheek to his palm, she pleaded with him to continue. “Don‟t stop.” He looked at her strangely, as if what she asked was unusual and daring. His eyes were flickering with other colors, reflections from somewhere in the room kept her spellbound. There she hung, bound to the cabinet doors, and all she wanted to think about was could he make her want him more? His other hand took a place on the opposite side of her neck. He petted lightly over her pulse, beating beneath the skin. The slow strokes lulled her senses, calming her all over. She closed her eyes, enjoying the caress that moved into a massage of her shoulders. It felt good, relaxing. And then he grabbed the Tee shirt's frayed collar and ripped it down the front, jerking her whole body forward. Shocked out of her false tranquility, her lashes flew up as she gasped. Mild alarm made her tense as she bounced against the counter from J.R.‟s jerking to tear the shirt completely open. Her heart rate quickened. She breathed heavier, stunned by his sudden aggression. A dark edginess fringed his expression as he looked hungrily at her breasts. She glanced down at her nipples, ruby spiked points jutting in eagerness. J.R.‟s long fingers folded around her swollen flesh. He lifted one breast higher then the other as if he weighed each to be sure he had the heavier, more deserving one. He bent down and licked her taut nipple. She watched his tongue swish and cool the burning flesh. In a frenzy of ecstatic joy, she rolled her head from side to side against the cabinet with whispered moans for more. She arched, shoving her chest toward him. His bathing licks and suckling lips were the sweetest kind of torture. The coarseness of his tongue abraded her flesh, heating 47

A Wicked Wolf every sensitive nerve in her. The cut of his teeth when he nipped the tender tip of her breast came close to making her scream. His withdrawal left her unharmed. Then he did it all again. His mouth swung away sooner than she expected, faster than she wanted, and a frustrated whine slipped out of her. She wanted the moment to last forever. His kisses journeyed along her collarbone and swept up the side of her neck. “You taste good.” His words whispered around her ear. “I want to devour every inch of you.” “Yes.” She panted, encouraging him by repeating her total agreement. “Yes, every inch.” He cupped her jaw and turned her head. His lips crept along. She twisted to catch his kiss on her mouth. Oddly, he avoided the place she desired to feel his tantalizing breath. His hands left her body without warning. He pulled a red handkerchief from his back pocket and spun it several times folding it to a strip. She drew back as he lifted it to her eyes. “Is that for me?” she asked, not sure how far she wanted to let him dominate her. A wicked grin was his only answer. This wasn‟t a position she should be in with a stranger and she debated telling him. No, she didn‟t want to play this game. The words stayed on the tip of her tongue as he leaned against her to tie the blindfold around her head. His hard body pressed hers, and she lost focus on her concerns. Her breasts flattened against him. She whimpered. Desire to have mind-blowing sex overpowered reason. Then the blindfold went on. She wasn‟t sure how to handle the unsettling mix of apprehension and anticipation, but she felt another burst of fear. He was a stranger and she was giving him total control. He knew. That was apparent when he pushed her sweatpants down a little and kissed along the rim from hipbone to hipbone. 48

Brenda Williamson The blindfold heightened her sensitivity to areas she never appreciated a man‟s kiss more—her belly and her sides. She thrust her pelvis forward, seeking to engage the exact spot she wanted him to go. “J.R.,” she groaned, as he headed back up her body instead of into the region of ultimate satisfaction. “Tell me.” He nibbled her breasts. “Tell me what you want.” “Lower,” she groaned, anticipation growing. “Here?” His fingertips brushed her abdomen and made her shiver. “No.” She writhed in frustration as her insides twitched. “Here?” Something pressed the crotch of her sweatpants. His palm? His fingers? His mouth? His fingers, she decided when the cloth pushed into the split of her sex. “Tell me,” he demanded. Could he not see her nodding? “Yes,” she moaned raggedly, hating the delay. What part of her was he looking at? He stood close. Other than his hand grasping her roughly between her legs, creating a heat that made her shudder, she had no idea what he was planning. The small explosions she felt were not the kind of orgasms she wanted. His fondling wasn‟t enough, especially when the glorious sensations backed off. “Please, take my clothes off,” she begged. “Touch me.” His hands slid over her hips. With quick jerks, he had the sweatpants down her legs. She trembled in anticipation of his cock filling her. Her thighs quivered against the brush of his fingertips on her skin, circling, tracing the perimeter of her sex. “Oh God, please,” she panted, impatient and anxious, spreading her legs to invite more. “Lick me.” She felt his breath first. Then something pressed her clit. His nose? Yes. It had to be. She heard him sniffing. Suddenly, heat 49

A Wicked Wolf from his nostrils tickled a twitch from her insides. Tremors of an orgasm rocked her balance. His strong hands gripped her thighs, steadying her wobbly stance. Then they glided up and opened her. His tongue wiggled against her clit. New sensations sizzled through her, reenergizing her limbs. “Oh, yes,” she cried, her hormones on overdrive. “Whatever you do, don‟t stop.” His mouth settled into place, sucking her quivering clit. She wiggled her hips, pushing into the thrust of his tongue. He caressed her ankles, her calves, and the ticklish spot behind her knees, making her shake from head to toe. If not for the support of the ribbons tied around her wrists, hanging her from the cabinet handles, her buckling legs would have dropped her to the floor. She felt awkward, not at all her usual daring self. She‟d never done bondage. What did he think of her like this? Was this something he had done to other women? She reasoned she should be worried about her vulnerable position, except she couldn‟t muster up the courage or the desire to stop him. He kissed his way up her belly, pushing the shirt aside as he went. His lips skirted her right breast, circling it as if avoiding her puckered nipple. Then he wasn‟t touching her at all. Seconds ticked by. From the feel of his body heat washing over her, only a few inches separated them. He hesitated. For permission? A reason to continue? Surely not a reason to quit. He made her wait so long she tensed when his hand touched her. He ran hard fingers across her forehead, following her hairline. His caress glided over the blindfold. Was he going to remove it? “Leave it on,” she said, not ready to end the experience. “I have no intentions of removing it.” He cupped her jaw and stroked her cheek. She waited for what came next, not knowing what to expect, eager anyway. He lifted her chin, tilting her face up. His lips pressed lightly, 50

Brenda Williamson passing gently over hers. Impulse made her reach to pull him to her, but her wrists remained securely bound to the cabinets. He made another pass, a longer connection to her mouth. She angled her head, twisting her mouth to his. His hands raked up and down her outstretched arms. She grasped at his fingers in her palm, but missed holding onto them. The weight of his body seemed heavier as he rested and rocked against her. A hard tremor from him rattled her mentally and physically. His kissing grew rougher, and he breathed harder, in light gasps. The stubble of whiskers on his face, coarser than before, prickled her lips making them sore. His one hand spread over the small of her back, holding her lower half against his gyrating groin while his other hand swept circles between her shoulder blades and up to the back of her neck. He abandoned her mouth and pressed his head alongside hers. “You make me want to be an animal,” he said, his tone harsh, accusing. His intensity shocked her. He sounded serious. How was it her fault? The hand at her lower back slid to her bottom. The other joined the first and he squeezed her ass, pulling her forward as he rubbed against her. His deep moan of surrender reverberated in her head. Whether he blamed her for his overpowering lust or not, she wasn‟t going to stop him. No one had ever made her more nervous and excited to have sex. She couldn‟t back down from wanting this. If he had regrets, then he‟d have to be the one to turn her loose and walk away. Angling her head for his harsh kisses traveling under her jaw, she listened to the zip of his pants and the snap of his waistband. He wasn‟t going to stop. Good. He had large hands, and she‟d found in the past that it was a myth to think that a man‟s hands hinted at the size of his cock. Then his erection sprang forward, slapping her belly and snaking 51

A Wicked Wolf upward, the crown lodging against her breasts. “Oh, my God.” She drew in a deep breath. It unnerved her to think of his enormous cock rasping her. She imagined him thrusting it inside her. How wide would her vaginal canal stretch? How deep could her body take him? What points of pleasure had no one reached before? She wanted to know and yet feared he‟d rip her apart. “Untie me.” She pulled on one wrist, and the cabinet door popped open. “Please?” “Not yet.” His teeth scraped her neck, stinging her with a sharp pressure. He sucked hard on her pulse for a long time. There would be a mark, a large, dark purple one staining her skin. Back home, she would have to explain it to her siblings, her co-workers. There would be crude remarks and jokes. She never used to let a man give her the telltale sign of her promiscuity. This time her objections fell by the wayside. J.R. kept her thoughts on all the places his hands moved, kneading, squeezing and caressing her body. Being a prisoner to his whims put her at a disadvantage. “Untie me, please,” she begged, aching to touch him with the same fervor. Weakened by a sudden euphoric lightheadedness, she hadn‟t realized she was making any sounds until her whimpers grew faint. J.R. continued his foreplay, arousing her with his assertive nature. His spiked teeth slid over her collarbone, down her chest, and latched onto one of her breasts. An unusual growl rumbled from him. His restraint on her body tightened, squeezing her so hard she didn‟t think she could take another breath. She gasped fervently, afraid that if she told him to stop, he would. He relaxed his hold a little and then totally. He grabbed her under the knee and lifted her leg. Her foot came 52

Brenda Williamson loose from the sweatpants that had sunk to her ankles. She stopped her feeble attempts to get free from the cabinet. The useless moves were of no help. She was at his mercy. Tonguing her swollen nipple, he stirred moans and then loud cries of pleasure, and a chorus of ecstatic howls echoed outside. J.R. moved a hand to her abdomen, rubbing and smoothing the area. The tender swirls sedated her. His fingers veered from her belly button. Downward he stroked between the lips of her sex. He rubbed back and forth, pushing into her clenching vagina, forcing her to lift on her toes with each withdrawal. Then he extracted his fingers totally. He brushed the crown of his cock along her wet slit. She could have died waiting for his penetration. “Please, put it in me.” She threw herself at him, letting the cabinet doors spring open. He stepped back—out of her reach, as if to deny her. “No, don‟t stop.” She twisted her head, trying to free the blindfold. She stopped at the sound of a menacing growl, a bestial resonance of something inhuman. Were they no longer alone? “Untie me,” she demanded, frightened by the sounds of heavy panting. Then came a blast of heat, and she felt the burning stir of air against her slit. Was there a dog in the house? Did J.R. have sexual perversities involving animals? “What are you going to do to me?” she asked. He didn‟t answer. She felt the furry touch of something on her thigh. Then the brush of something wet pressing into her crotch. She tugged on her binds. “Let me go,” she cried, attempting to twist away from whatever was slithering slowly into her vagina. Trapped, she tried to imagine what kind of animal was in the room. A dog sprang to mind at the feel of intense licking of her clit. An eerie fear of the unknown swept up her spine like ice against her skin, chilling her. 53

Chapter Six Nick stared at Randi struggling against the scraps of satin ribbon. Her naked body twisted and jerked. He breathed heavily, aroused by the scent of her fear. It was wrong, but he wasn‟t ready to let her go. He couldn‟t let her see him as a man turned part wolf. Forcing the reversal of his transformation, he jerked off one boot and then the other. Tugging his shirt up and over his head, he moved forward, ready to feast on the female with his rapacious sexual hunger. “I have to have you.” He gripped her waist and pulled her to him. Grinding his hips against her, he rubbed his cock in her wet scent. He slid his hands to her buttocks and squeezed the supple flesh. He slipped his hand down her warm belly, fingering her navel and sliding over her moistened pussy. There wasn‟t a part of her he didn‟t want to know. “But what was that sound? I heard something. It sounded like. . . . ” Her sentence trailed off. He probed her thatch by parting the soft lips of her vulva, and she moaned. She didn‟t want to know what was going on, only that she wasn‟t in danger. He didn‟t know if he could sooth those fears. So he fondled the thin pleats of flesh circling the bundle of nerves in her clit. Randi squirmed. Her skin quivered against his palm. She moaned a deep, satisfied sound. Rhythmically, her pelvis rocked, helping to stir his finger into her vagina. Whatever fears she‟d had earlier had clearly disappeared. But he had to be sure. 54

Brenda Williamson “Tell me to stop.” He kissed her shoulder. “Tell me you don‟t want me.” He could tame his urges. Randi proved that, didn‟t she? “Tell me,” he demanded close to her ear, stroking the inside of her thigh. “No,” she replied breathlessly. “I want you inside me. Please, just fuck me before I go crazy.” Nick stooped between her slightly parted legs. His cock swung, brushing her leg as he grabbed her hips to steady himself against the tremor rushing through his body. He drew a deep breath, taking in the scent emanating from her core. Already knowing the softness of her skin, he leaned forward and kissed her flat belly. The velvety warm flesh shrank from his touch. He kissed under her breasts, nuzzling them each with his nose. He‟d noted she lacked pussy hair. Had she shaved it or waxed it off? He found it strangely alluring. How would it feel to have his hairy groin grinding against that bareness? He circled his hands to her firm buttocks and down the back of her thighs. Balancing himself, he lifted her legs one at a time so she sat on his shoulders. It placed her clit perfectly at his mouth, right where he wanted her. With his thumb, he fondled the taut nether lips and then fanned two fingers inside, opening her. “Oh God.” Her breathing quickened. Her pussy fit his open mouth, and he tongued her clit, making her squirm. The cabinet doors rattled as her arms writhed against them from her pleasure. His cock throbbed. He pressed his face tighter into the hot center of delicate flesh, savoring the warmth against his nose. Devouring her scent. He thrust his tongue into her as he had done as a Lycan, and she squealed with surprise. Her vaginal muscle constricted, clamping down, and releasing with rapid squeezes. Her juices flowed and pooled, and he sucked them. She rocked on his shoulders, burying his nose in the liquid recess. He caressed the shapely legs straddling his face and sucked 55

A Wicked Wolf harder on her twitching core. “Oh, please, won‟t you untie me?” Her stuttering pleas grew louder. “Please?” Drunk on the nectar gushing from her, Nick gripped her waist. He hoisted her off his shoulders onto the counter, leaving her blindfolded and bound. He rose, and fit his cock against the hot entrance he had readied with his mouth. “Yes, do it,” she begged. “Fuck me.” Maddie had taught him how to be a man when the animal wanted control, but it was hard to resist Randi‟s coaxing cries, urging him to fuck her. Made restless by her scent, he jerked her from the counter and rammed himself into her hot cunt. She grunted her surprise. He slid her back and lunged again, forcing his way into her. “Yes,” she cried out her pleasure. Her bondage hindered his desire to feel her close, so he reached up and tugged the ribbon loose from her left wrist. He savored the feel of her slender arm circling his neck. She hung onto him while he removed the other ribbon. Freed, she reached to remove the blindfold. “Keep it on,” he rasped. “I want to see you,” she argued, lifting an arm to remove the blindfold anyway. “No,” he growled. His nerve endings flared, reacting to her disobedience, enraging his beastly nature to emerge. He took struggling steps out of his trousers as his body pulsated, working toward transforming him into his Lycan form. Randi clutched his shoulders as he stumbled around looking for a dark corner of the room in case he couldn't hold back from changing. But the ceiling fixture was lit and the light flooded every cranny. His legs shook, but his fingers strengthened. Randi unfolded 56

Brenda Williamson her arm from around his neck again and went for the blindfold. “Don‟t,” he roared. He hurried forward, slamming her into the wall by the doorway. She gasped and grabbed his head. It gave him time to flip off the light switch. Darkness engulfed them, concealing the unleashed form of his Lycan being. He watched her through his nocturnal eyes as she yanked the blindfold free. He pulled back and lunged deeper into her, forcing her not to think about what changes she might have noticed in his body. Her insides clenched hard on his shaft. “What happened?” she grunted. “Why is it dark in here?” “I said, leave the blindfold on,” he growled, and spun around. He dropped to his knees and lowered Randi to the floor, putting her on her back. “I can‟t see you,” she protested. “You. . . don‟t. . . need. . . to. . . see. . . me.” He strained to speak. Then grabbing her wrists, he dragged her arms above her head and pinned them to the floor, preventing her from touching him. He drove his cock forcefully into her, pumping faster, his erection thickening along with other parts of him. His arms and legs expanded, and muscles broadened his chest. Randi groaned, apparently noticing the difference—suffering distress from his cock stretching her insides. “Easy,” she squeaked with a note of fear. There was no gentle way to fuck her as a Lycan. Basic instincts ruled. He had already held back as much as possible, hoping to prepare her for his complete transformation. He pounded into her, hearing her gasps and grunts as he lunged. Eventually, her sounds of discomfort turned into sensual moans. It pleased him that her body had accepted all of him. “Harder,” she demanded, thrusting up against him. Yes, harder. He wanted that too. 57

A Wicked Wolf With her voicing her readiness, he couldn‟t stop the beast in him from emerging. He dragged one of her legs up in the air and twisted her to her side. “Oh God, don‟t stop.” Her contracting muscles grabbed at him, drawing him deeper. He rammed quicker, driving himself toward relief. Her multiple orgasms kept the path slick and her womb accessible. Outside, the clouds separated, and a beam of moonlight cast a bright glow over him and Randi through the window. He saw her squint, trying to see him and he flipped her over completely. His cock twisted inside of her and then dropped free. There was no stopping now, but the thought that he‟d be raping her alarmed him. If she begged him to get off her, he couldn‟t. He didn‟t have that kind of control. “Yes, that‟s it. Fuck me from behind.” Her command conveyed the answer he hoped for, she hadn‟t seen his changing features. The bitch presented her bottom to him, backing and wiggling it against his thigh. She rocked and rubbed, showing her anxiety, proving she was in season and ready to be bred. His Lycan features dominated his body. He climbed on her, digging his thick animal-clawed fingertips into her sides. Kept trimmed into short blunt tips, his nails shouldn't draw her attention from his manhandling. She groaned a slight protest to the pressure he used to drag her under him. He ignored her whine and penetrated her. Several times he pulled out and slammed his cock in deeper. He felt her insides constrict and hug his shaft tightly. She stiffened under him, and he humped her fervently, listening to her moans turn into gasps of pleasure. Then his throbbing cock head butted up against her cervix. Like dogs during copulation, Lycans had a bulbous gland that swelled near the base of their shaft, what they called a knot. Once 58

Brenda Williamson his cock was inserted deep, the knot prevented the bitch from breaking free until insemination was complete. Nick felt the gland enlarging. He also heard Randi‟s groans turning into exhausted gasps. With his arm under her waist, he held her up, but not even his support stopped her from dropping on her elbows and hanging her head close to the floor. Ultimately, the position worked better, preventing her from seeing what he looked like. Eventually, she‟d have to know. By then, he hoped she would accept him. Maddie had, with the help of the chemical his body released during intercourse. The endorphins that soothed a female Lycan during sex only made a human aggressive for more. He shifted from one foot to the other, jamming his hips forward, burying deeper into her womb. Then he ejaculated a spurting stream, sending the richness of his semen into her chasm. He howled in triumph, thrashing against her bottom with subsequent expulsion of fluid. When his body finally relaxed, he carefully stroked his clawed fingers down Randi‟s smooth back between her shoulder blades. Shortly, just as for Lycan females, the endorphins released in his discharge would ease a human female's discomfort. Only time would tell if she were fertile. It saddened him to think of Maddie‟s unfulfilled wish to have his child. She‟d always seemed ripe for impregnation, but fate had played a cruel joke on them that left her barren. Minutes ticked by, and he didn‟t move. In the forest, Lycans who were without a female howled at the moon in misery. He knew the routine. Months and years had flown by since the time he, too, had stood as an animal yowling in frustration. Coupling in human form with women never gave him what the Lycan in him needed. He felt complete again, having unleashed himself to take a mate. “J.R.?” Randi‟s whisper pulled him from his ruminations. 59

A Wicked Wolf The swelling in his cock kept him fastened to her, holding him to that lingering effect of breeding the bitch. Yet the mid-stages of the Lycan receded and gave him the control to shift back into a normal man. “Give me a few minutes,” he said, and pulled her up, offering kisses of gratitude against the side of her head near her temple. On her knees, upright in his arms, she rested back on him. He listened to her raspy breathing, slowing and calming, expressing her tired state. When she twisted her head, he caught her mouth and devoured her in an unyielding kiss. His cock slid out of the warm, snug sheath of her body and he turned her around, crushing her in his embrace. His sexual appetite sated and his beastly needs appeased, he forgot everything outside of that glorious moment. He kissed her hungrily, unable to hold back the release of his emotions. “I‟ve missed you, Maddie,” he said, not thinking, until his blundering words were out. “Maddie?” Randi sounded surprised and worse. Hurt. She pushed his arms off her waist and sat on the floor. He hadn‟t meant to voice his feelings to his new mate. Unable to clarify his statement, he stared at her, glad she couldn‟t see him. She reminded him less of his dead wife, by the way her lips pursed and her brow furrowed. The cooing sound she made as he had drained himself into her body was also unlike Maddie. So why had he called her Maddie? He could only reason his subconscious was holding onto the past. Though he‟d loved Maddie once, how did he explain his mistake to Randi? She was the rebirth of life to him. His new soul mate. Randi gathered the torn Tee shirt, stretching it across her breasts and hugging it around her. She looked more confused than angered by the fact he had erroneously called her by another woman‟s name. She had no way of knowing that it was his dead 60

Brenda Williamson wife. As the facts sunk in, he realized the depth of his horrendous behavior. Not only had he installed the stranger into his wife‟s bedroom, he‟d initiated her into his primitive existence. He‟d taken her without fully disclosing who or what he was. He had made her part of his life. But would she let him be part of hers? If not, he was in for a new low in suffering. Nick rose, unable to confront her. He snatched his pants from the floor and walked out of the dark room, a man again. As devastated as he was at his lack of self-control, the Lycan part of him reveled in the satisfaction of having a mate. She would fill a void in his life. Outside the house, the night air cooled his hot skin. He bent down and put a foot into one pant leg. His senses, heightened by sex, alerted him to someone watching. He glanced at the woods. Glowing golden eyes stared at him. He didn‟t know what came next. He gave sanctuary to all Lycans that abided by the laws he set forth. Would the wolf challenge him for the female regardless of the consequences? Nick sat on the split-log bench, pulled out a spare pair of boots from underneath and put them on. He stepped to the edge of the deck and lifted his cock. A stream of his urine flowed, and he remarked the boundaries of what was off limits for any who might have forgotten. Maddie used to think it cute the way he pissed outside every night. He‟d never explained that the territorial nature of the beast had helped to keep her safe. The wolf disappeared into the shadowed forest. Randi was out of danger in his house. Nick needed time and space from her. He didn‟t wait long before jumping off the porch and walking away from the questions that awaited him inside. He hiked through the forest, aware of everything around him as he headed for Randi‟s car. A clear head, freed by the release of pent-up energy, let him think through his plans. An occasional howl stopped him. He 61

A Wicked Wolf listened for the volley of responses. The Lycans were spreading the word that he might have a new mate. Eventually he‟d have to prove it. He moved on, trudging through the wet forest. While he could easily pull Randi‟s vehicle out of the ditch with his pickup truck, he made a decision that would give him a chance to spend time with his mate. She was human, and she‟d need persuasion to stay with him by repeated couplings. Dosing her heavily with endorphins gave them time to bond. After he reached the car, he hunched down, took out his pocketknife, and stabbed the tire. Air seeped out, and it went flat. He stabbed the other back tire too. One spare in the trunk was probable. Two would be unusual. Still, he would not leave anything to fate. He lifted the hood and pulled a few cables loose, satisfied Randi‟s car was inoperable. But how to convince her not to walk down the mountain? He hadn‟t figured out how to make her stay. The rain stopped. The clouds were almost gone. For the first time in a long while, he enjoyed the full moon. He strolled back to the house contemplating how to explain Maddie and avoid talking about that painful part of his past. By the time he got home two hours later, Randi no longer sat on the kitchen floor. He followed her seductive scent down the hallway and ended up in front of Maddie‟s old bedroom door. He tried the knob. The door was locked. “Randi,” he said, hoping to coax her out and make love to her again. This time it could be different. The animal in him had been appeased. He could take his time and love every inch of her more slowly. She could look into his eyes and know him in a different way. “Goodnight,” she replied. He pressed his cheek against the thick wood and brushed a 62

Brenda Williamson hand over the smooth surface. The fragrance of sex hung thickly in the air. In a few short hours, she‟d made him want her too much. His human yearning for companionship kept him lightly pawing the varnished surface. “Goodnight,” he whispered softly and made his way back to the kitchen. He ignored his other boots and shirt on the floor and looked at the ribbons on the counter, remnants of their sexual encounter. Then he remembered the jar of beef broth that had fallen on the floor, a leftover from Maddie‟s canning projects. He couldn‟t believe it hadn‟t exploded on impact. When he couldn‟t find it, he checked the fridge and saw it back on the shelf. He also discovered a plate with two sandwiches. Picking up one, he inspected the cutaway parts indicating that Randi had removed the freezer burn. He smiled. Her consideration touched him. Since he mainly lived on meat, he hadn‟t eaten bread in a long time. He preferred a rare venison steak. Sentiment had made him keep the jar of beef broth. Randi‟s thoughtfulness made him toss it in the trash. For penance, he bit into the sandwich and ate it. He carried the plate to the den. For hours, he sat and plotted his next course of action, hoping Randi would come out of the bedroom. Twice, he walked down the hall and listened for an encouraging sound. Randi had dropped into his world without warning. The change to his existence was sharp and severe. He‟d mated the woman with a Lycan‟s tenacity, and now he had to figure out how to keep her there or suffer despair from her departure. Her personality alone suggested an independence he would not convince by reason. Getting her to stay would take a side of him he didn‟t always like. He needed the manipulative, dominant ways of his breed. He‟d have to be a wicked wolf to get his bitch to stay.

63

Chapter Seven Randi rose before dawn. She‟d had trouble sleeping all night. Unfamiliar surroundings, different clothes, and something about J.R. disturbed her. The encounter in the kitchen had ended with an unsettling aftermath, his rapid departure. Those moments she‟d spent alone in the eerie darkness, sitting on a cold wood floor, had left her questioning herself. Was she out of her mind? She‟d yet to determine whether J.R. was dangerous. He‟d dominated their sexual encounter, but she‟d never given a man the control she‟d let him take. He‟d excited her so much that even now, her bruised nipples tingled. Her insides twitched as she thought of the full extent of his lust, but nothing could erase the disturbing questions that remained. Who was Maddie? What had happened to her to make him miss her so much? With him gone, she poked and pried into everything in the house. There were no details about him or Mr. Wolfe. No photographs of friends, family, pets, or places, proving that J.R. never left the mountain or that his employer ever stayed there. It was as if they were both hiding from life. The elusive billionaire was just harder to find. She thought about J.R.‟s total domination over her. It disappointed her that she hadn‟t been able to caress his back, massage his shoulders or comb her fingers through his hair, and yet she felt oddly satisfied. Her belly growled demanding food, and she returned to the kitchen. She glanced at the herbs overhead and remembered the smells of lavender and of him. He‟d smelled so good, earthy and natural without the mask of cologne. She hadn‟t been able to touch 64

Brenda Williamson him or wrap her arms around him and feel the masculine contours of his body. She contented herself with thinking of what she could do the next time, then shook her head. There couldn‟t be a next time. She wasn‟t here to reap the rewards of sex. Business. She had to focus on meeting Mr. Wolfe, if not here, then wherever he was. J.R. had to have a clue where that might be. If she couldn‟t get him to tell her directly, then she‟d. . . what? Once again, her mind swam with images of having sex with him. It would be different. It would be entirely on her terms. She looked down at J.R.‟s boots and shirt on the floor. The telltale signs of their wild sex lay ready for her to confront with a clear head. She picked up the shirt and pressed it to her nose. His scent made her body clench in remembrance of the exhilarating sex. If only afterward he hadn‟t called her someone else‟s name or abandoned her. Sitting on the floor, left naked in the dark, had done nothing for her confidence in her performance. She searched the cabinets for breakfast. Usually her seventeen year old sister, Emily made French toast or omelets or something yummy for her and their brother Sam. She missed that this morning as she came up empty handled. What were her siblings having that morning? Were they discussing her whereabouts? It wouldn't be the first time she hadn't returned home for a few days. But they were old enough to handle things on their own. She looked again in the pantry, then the freezer. Other then butcher wrapped meat, she had used the last of the bread for the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches she‟d made for J.R. the night before as a sign of her forgiveness. She had no right to think she was special to him. And it was wrong to treat him as if he betrayed her. Still, a wounded ego hurt. It would have been better if he hadn‟t acted so into her. Her stomach grumbled. She needed food. In one cabinet, on the top shelf, she spotted a box of cornflakes lying on its side. She rose on her toes and slid it forward with the flick of her finger. An eerie 65

A Wicked Wolf chill gave her goose bumps as she brought it down. She whirled and found J.R. quietly watching her from the doorway. His wide shoulders filled the space, dwarfing the entryway. She hadn‟t had a chance to observe him the night before. He didn‟t look as hairy as she had felt when he leaned against her. His muscles rippled beneath his tan skin. “You startled me.” She flipped open the box and stuck her hand inside. “I was getting some breakfast. I hope you don‟t mind.” “When you‟re done, I‟ll take you to your car.” “I want to meet Mr. Wolfe first.” She took a bowl from a cabinet. “It can‟t hurt if I hang out here.” She leaned on the edge of the counter, waiting for him to give a clue as to when the man would return. His gaze drifted down the front of her, slowly, as if he could strip away her clothes with a look. He lingered at her chest, her waist and her legs, then returned to her face for a second. Then he glanced at the ceiling to the clusters of dried herbs dangling from the rafters. Excitement curled through her insides, sizzling through her limbs, numbing her brain. Take me again, her mind screamed. She‟d hardly slept all night, thinking how he had tied her in that very spot. They‟d come together as if a sexual energy threaded their spirits into one, but the morning after had her believing it was a one-sided experience. J.R.‟s heated stare made her reconsider. Maybe he‟d felt as connected as she had. After all, with a great deal of angst in his tone, he had called her by someone else‟s name and then appeared horrified by what he‟d said. “I‟ve got work to do.” He pulled a black Tee shirt over his head. She hadn‟t noticed it in his hand when he‟d entered the kitchen. The cotton fit him snugly. His nipples were hard and poked the fabric. Involuntarily, her fingers wiggled at her side. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

66

Brenda Williamson “Does that mean I can stay?” she asked. His expression didn‟t have a spark of warmth. “Mr. Wolfe doesn‟t like people hanging around.” His indifference toward her was upsetting. Would he be that cold if she stripped? What if she dropped to her knees, unleashed his cock, and took him in her mouth? Halfway through her climax the night before, she‟d contemplated how to please him. The idea of sucking his big erection made her wet. She hadn‟t seen his cock, but had felt it deep within her. It was the biggest cock she‟d ever had, and there was no end to the ways she wanted to let him use it on her. “What if I do something to help you with your chores?” she replied, unable to back down from a challenge. She had to stay to meet Mr. Wolfe. Reaping the benefits of J.R.‟s lust gave her yet another reason. The man needed more than one release. That was clear from the distress in his voice when he named the other woman. He may have been avoiding talking about the night before, but the hungry way his gaze raked over her was enough evidence for her to persist. “Or maybe you‟d like for me to do something more personal.” She moved toward him, putting her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat speed up. “You can‟t imagine what I want.” He took hold of her face. He brushed his thumb over her lips, stretching them as he pried her mouth open. His other hand slithered up her back beneath the close-fitting blouse. The buttons strained across her braless chest as he pushed higher, caressing her back. “Or maybe you can‟t imagine what I can do?” She ran her fingers down his ribs, landing on the waistband of his denim pants. With a slow glide, she followed the rim to the center. A hard tug popped the snap open. His one hand dropped to her bottom, and the other gripped her chin and pulled her mouth toward his. The slow lick of his tongue over her lips and up to her nose made 67

A Wicked Wolf her shiver. He continued the strange, arousing play, lapping at her face, and then moving to her neck as if he bathed her, covering a wider and wider area. When he unbuttoned her blouse, she dropped her arms to her sides. His incessant licking, especially over her nipples, drove her crazy. He held her sides, steadying her so she could hang her head back and enjoy. This was nothing like she planned. Instead of her pleasuring him for what she wanted, he gave her a thrill. His hand slid inside her sweatpants. “That feels so good,” she moaned. He relieved her of the blouse without missing a lick over her skin. The constant rasping on her hardened nipples felt as if he were scrubbing them with sandpaper. She didn‟t dare look to see if he had worn them raw. His mouth enveloped the tip of her breast. “Ahhhh. . . .” She let out her approval. She wasn‟t used to men being this aggressive and demanding, men who knew things she didn‟t and did things she‟d never imagined. She loved his take-charge nature and animal roughness, his mastery of lovemaking. He cupped her nether lips, fingering her clit. She wanted normal sex. Then his dark gaze made her wonder, what was normal to J.R.? He‟d already shown her new paths to pleasure.

68

Chapter Eight Not ready to breed her again, Nick rubbed Randi‟s wet cunt, penetrating the swollen entrance, heightening her arousal with fast thrusting. She clung to him. Her fingers dug into his shirt. Her hips rocked forward each time he withdrew. “Keep going,” she whimpered. “Don‟t stop.” He kissed her face and mouth, sucking at her cheek and lips. Moving a second finger into her tight vagina, he tickled a sensitive spot that made her pant. Her mouth barely moved against his. She gasped in short bursts as waves of orgasm washed through her. Then she went rigid, gripped by her climax. He took pleasure in having her claw at him with such wild excitement. She twisted her head away and laid it against his shoulder. “The things you do to me.” Inertia left her sagging in his hold. “This is just a start,” he murmured against the side of her head. He extracted his fingers and licked them. The scent and flavor of her sex dropped him to his knees. He looked up into her eyes. A fiery passion blazed in their depths. For a second he saw Maddie, and the image killed his arousal. He rose, shaken and confused by emotions and memories. “I have things to do,” he said stepping back from the tantalizing fragrance of Randi‟s ready body. “All right,” she said, seemingly calm and forgiving, not curious about his abrupt withdrawal. He picked up her blouse. His needs were few, but they all involved a woman to whom he hadn‟t shown his true form. He tossed the piece of clothing to her. The sun hadn‟t risen yet. As long as the full moon hovered anywhere in the dark sky, the Lycan 69

A Wicked Wolf part of him could emerge. The kitchen wasn‟t dark enough to hide him again. Fearing her rejection, he backed farther from her. “Like I said, maybe I can help?” She put her blouse on. “I‟d like to stay until Mr. Wolfe gets here.” Nick nodded. He wasn‟t about to have it any other way. Randi combed her hair, her fingers tunneling deep, shifting the wavy strands between her knuckles and letting them fall softly back into place. Once she leaned against the counter, she no longer had that feral look that pulled at his Lycan needs. Still sultry, her natural stance and expression fit the surrounding wilderness. He saw her as a permanent fixture in his life. Surprisingly, she felt a better fit for him and his lifestyle than Maddie. His wife had been beautiful and wonderful, but he never felt she had the strength to deal with his kind. Randi had spunk, a tenacity that bespoke an inner strength deeply rooted in her nature. She wouldn‟t crumple in the face of trouble—would she? He‟d never wanted her here, but the animal in him overpowered his decision to avoid females. Now she had to accept him as he truly was. She had to learn the consequences of her sexual indiscretion. Without even being aware, she had become a Lycan‟s mate. His bitch for life.

70

Chapter Nine “When is Mr. Wolfe expected to return?” Randi asked, hoping for the answer J.R. had been keeping from her. “He doesn‟t have a schedule.” His gaze strayed to the area of her chest. She resisted the urge to fall into his seductive trap again. So what if his rough sex made her hot for more? She had to focus on why she was here. So what if her inner thighs were hot and damp? Business had to come first. So what if her heart beat faster and she had trouble taking a breath. She had a job and obligations. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked, pretending as hard as possible that she wasn‟t so into J.R. it made it hard to think. “Just find something and do it,” he said harshly, and sat down at the table. His abrasive tone dampened her sexual cravings. She needed a sale so she wouldn‟t ask why he‟d pulled back from sex so abruptly. She looked in the fridge for milk for her cornflakes, then remembered there was none. “I like my cereal dry,” she said, putting a few flakes in her mouth. Instead of a crunch, the gummy pieces stuck in her teeth. She sat the box of stale cereal on the counter and looked around for another place to find food. “Do you want me to fix you something, like coffee?” She glanced his way, praying he would give her a clue where to find it. “I don‟t drink the stuff.” “What about breakfast?” She chewed a few more cornflakes. 71

A Wicked Wolf “I don‟t eat.” “Everybody eats.” She sat the bowl down and pushed it away, not interested in eating while he watched. “I don‟t eat breakfast.” He got up from the chair. “Why not?” she asked, curious to hear his answer. He left the room, but she followed him, wondering. He was a large, strong man. How could he go without a hearty meal, especially first thing in the morning? Without toast and coffee, she was as useless as a snail. “What are you going to do?” She trailed him outside, acting as if she didn‟t notice his dark mood. “I said I‟d help.” The sun hadn‟t come up, and she hadn‟t found a clock to tell what time it was. The odd glow to the sky gave a hint of dawn. J.R. crossed the yard and went into a large shed. A few snaps resounded, and fluorescent lights flickered on. It was clearly his workshop. Workbenches lined the walls. Tools hung neatly on pegboard hooks on the wall. Out of necessity, she knew what screwdrivers, hammers and wrenches were. At home, if a doorknob was loose or a faucet needed tightening, she saved money by fixing it. But she didn‟t recognize some of the other items hanging on the pegboard. She moved around the worktable in the center of the room to look at a half-finished chandelier made of deer antlers. “Wow, this is really nice. Did you make it?” She touched the smooth tips, following the intricate pattern where he‟d woven them together around three rings of lights. Each band of steel was smaller and held fewer sockets. “Yes.” He picked up a spool of wire and began working it through the steel tubing. “It‟s beautiful.” She reached in the mesh of horns and picked up the coil of wire when it dropped from his hand. He touched her hand to take the wire. His fingers were warm 72

Brenda Williamson and inviting. A tremor of excitement made her shiver. “About last night, and before. . . ” he said, sounding as if he were going to apologize. Her submission to his bondage left her feeling more awkward than she had the night before. She didn‟t want to discuss any of it. “What goes in these spots?” She pointed to gaps on the arrangement, steering away from re-igniting the spark between them. She still had many questions, but it seemed best not to ask about the awful moment when he‟d called her by another woman‟s name. They were strangers, plain and simple. Their fantastic sexual encounter didn‟t give her a right to pry. One-night stands weren‟t for sharing personal problems. She‟d had many lovers, and her steadfast rule was not to get involved in a steady relationship. Her co-worker Duane had soured her on commitment. “You know that deer you saw?” J.R. pulled the wire out of the tube and cut the other end. “His rack will fit this spot perfectly.” “You‟re going to kill a deer to make a light fixture?” It sounded cruel. “You killed how many to make this thing?” “I hunt deer for food. I don‟t waste the rest. If you had noticed in the den, you‟d have seen deerskin pillows on the sofa.” “And you can consume this much meat in how long?” she asked, questioning his farfetched story. “I‟ve worked on this piece for about two years. I‟m not in any rush.” He looped the wire into a knot to prevent it from sliding back into the tube. “I reckon not. No doubt, you‟re well paid to look after this place and have the run of it like it was yours, so why rush anything?” “You can see how I wouldn‟t want to upset Mr. Wolfe. He doesn‟t like uninvited guests.” “He doesn‟t, or you don‟t?” She busied herself with straightening up the workbench. From heated kiss to cold disinterest, he kept her off balance, defensive and irritable. 73

A Wicked Wolf “I respect his privacy, and you should too.” He sat on the stool he pulled out from under the table. She took a deep breath and said nothing. She watched him attach two wires to a socket. The screw appeared too tight. When he put force into the turn, the tool slipped out of his hand and fell on the floor beneath the bench. “Would you mind?” He held the wire in place and looked down. Randi stooped below the table and crawled under it to retrieve the renegade tool. Her gaze drifted to J.R.‟s open legs, and the prominent bulge against his zipper. She followed the ridge it made along the right pant leg. Would she ever feel anything as big and powerful as his cock inside her again? The floor had debris, but nothing compared to the clutter of naughty thoughts in her head. With a little boldness, she could open his zipper. Her mouth watered at the idea of nibbling his shaft and licking his cock head while kneading his firm scrotum. “Kind of dirty down there, isn‟t it?” he said, a touch of amusement in his tone. Not more than ten minutes ago, he‟d snubbed her advances. She didn‟t appreciate his teasing innuendo now, and crawled further under the table. Snatching the screwdriver from the floor, she scooted back out and rose. “Here.” She handed the tool to him. “Where‟s the broom and dustpan?” she asked, brushing off bits of steel shavings, bone pieces and dust bunnies she‟d collected on the second outfit she‟d borrowed from the woman‟s wardrobe. “In that corner.” He motioned to the other side of the room. She crossed the room and picked up the straw broom. From there she swept in short strokes, keeping the flurry of dust at a minimum. When she glanced at J.R., she saw him stretching his arms up and behind his head. The muscles in his biceps flexed. His shirt fit the contours perfectly. He appealed to her like chocolate sundaes and bubble baths. The urge to get down and dirty with 74

Brenda Williamson him on the floor twisted her insides. He went back to working without noticing her. She wandered toward him, making little whisks over the floor. The scent of animal, earthy and strong, came at her. It had to be the deer antlers. She liked the smell. When having sex with J.R., she recalled a similar fragrance and a musky hint of smoke. She enjoyed the comforting uniqueness of his woodsy scent. She shook off the fantasy and swept the room. Staying here depended on going along with J.R.‟s rules. She moved even the smallest objects to do a thorough job of cleaning. Her list of skills had never included good housekeeping although she tried for the sake of her two siblings. J.R. said nothing. They were at a standoff, a battle of restraint— her not letting him see her glances and him not wanting her to see his. Yet, he didn‟t do a good job of concealing his interest. Several times, when she looked his way, she caught him staring, almost salivating. Each stolen glance tortured her with longing to drop the pretense and tell him just how much she wanted sex with him again. Eventually, the floor was immaculate. Without a reason to linger in the shed, she moved to the door. “I suppose there‟s nothing else I can do in here.” She glanced back at him. She decided that this time his unresponsiveness was due to his concentration on his project. The silence gave her a chance to reexamine which she desired more, a chance to meet Mr. Wolfe? Or to have sex with his employee again? The prospect of a failed seduction kept her from throwing herself at J.R. He sat very still, meticulously threading wire through the tubes on the chandelier. He attached the ends to the sockets, clamped sockets into place, and fastened the banding at the proper angle. She wished he‟d pay as much attention to her, even if it meant tying her up again. “I‟ll look for something to do at the house. Do you have any 75

A Wicked Wolf suggestions?” she asked. Her imagination ran with a best-case scenario. Him rising, strolling over to her, and taking her into his strong arms. “The windows haven‟t been washed in a long time,” he answered without lifting his head. Windows? She hated washing glass, mainly because she hadn‟t figured out how to get rid of the streaks. “You want me to clean your windows?” she replied, crushed by his indifference. “It‟s not even daylight yet.” J.R. slid off the stool and strode toward her, renewing her hope. His nearness always provoked an attack on her sexual urges. She wanted him with an unexplainable desperation. Even knowing he loved another woman had not dampened her desire. He had ensnared her senses. He stopped within inches of her breasts pressing against his chest. A step closer, and they would touch. The warmth of his body wrapped her in a cocoon of enticing scents. Her head swam with flashbacks of his powerful embrace when he‟d held her possessively and made her feel like a cherished captive. Something in his manner kept her from jumping him like a horny bitch in heat. She didn‟t move a toe in his direction though her inclination to do so grew stronger. He glanced outside up at the sky. “See, still dark.” She leaned, purposely letting her balance falter. “It won‟t be in twenty-five minutes.” He gripped her upper arms, holding her at bay. She was rusty at seduction. Men usually wanted her without any effort on her part. How did she work with a man who ran hot and cold? “How do you know the precise time?” she asked, shrugging off her failed attempt at to attract him. “I know the night.” His head tipped down and his gaze locked to 76

Brenda Williamson hers. The pitter-patter of excitement resumed. He looked at her as if he knew what desperation felt like. Outlandish sentiments ran through her mind. Kiss me. Hold me. Love me. She breathed deeply, thinking he might do the first. Then a new array of sexual depravity came to mind. Spank me. Bang me. Fuck me hard. She hadn‟t realized how much she liked having no control until she had silk ribbons wrapped around her wrists, holding her up to the doorknobs. And J.R. had teased her senseless with his touch. The bondage in the kitchen had given her a new repertoire of positions. J.R. stepped back, and she lost the opportunity to throw herself at him and beg him to ravish her. That wasn‟t necessarily bad when she had nowhere to run. Walking down the mountain was out of the question, and she didn‟t have a clue where her car was in the big forest. “Fine, I‟ll do windows.” She trudged away but kept on planning. If ever she got hold of J.R. again, she wanted to explore his body without reserve. His firm torso, muscular back and caressing embrace had been hers too briefly. That wasn‟t right. She looked up at the house with gray cedar lapped siding. Why wasn‟t it made of logs? The windows were huge. “I don‟t even do my own windows,” she grumbled. Frustrated, she plodded across the yard to the house. Earlier, she‟d found a utility room off the kitchen. It seemed the best place to find supplies. By the time she‟d collected what she needed, the sun had come up. Whether twenty-five minutes had passed or not, she didn‟t know. She had yet to see a clock in the house. Outside, near the back door, she found a faucet on the wall and a hose coiled on the ground. Leaning against the foundation was a ladder on its side. She decided to tackle the windows on the west 77

A Wicked Wolf side of the house first where the rising sun wouldn‟t be glaring on the glass. From there, she also had a good view of the shed J.R. was working in. She went back in the house and filled a pail with hot, sudsy water, then lugged it back outside, trying not to let it slosh onto the floor. With the cleaning equipment gathered, she glanced at the shed, assuring herself J.R. hadn‟t left while she was gone. The sun rose quickly, heating the morning. She knew she‟d suffer wearing sweat pants. The notion of stripping and doing the chores naked had merit if J.R. happened to look out of his workshop. He‟d not resist her then, would he? She decided to hold off on disrobing for attention and propped the ladder against the siding near her first window. It appeared as if years of filth had built up on the glass and sill. Had the windows ever been washed? She scowled at J.R. in the shed. Maybe he hated this job too and was using her to get it done. “No wonder he let me hang around,” she muttered, climbing to scrub away the grime. The first window dirtied her water. She scrubbed and rubbed, wiped and scraped. Muck slid down the siding and stuck in spots. The job took forever and was the worse. But the fresh air and the peaceful mountain solitude made her begin to see a bright side to the chore. Always a city girl, she‟d never imagined she would find the country atmosphere as appealing as the man she wished would come out of his workshop. She climbed down the ladder and used the hose to rinse the soap and muck from the window and wall. Then she moved the ladder and worked on the next window. Subsequent climbs tired her, and her dislike of the chore came back. Then she positioned the ladder near a window at the front of the house and saw movement behind the glass in the door of the shed. J.R. must be watching her. Keeping a close eye on that door, she saw a shadow from inside block the light and disappear. 78

Brenda Williamson “Spying on me,” she grumbled. “Probably checking to see if I‟m doing this right.” She banged the ladder against the cedar boards as she situated it at the next window. Staring up, she dreaded another climb. Her legs were tired, and her back ached. Still, she picked up the bucket and was moving it to the next-to-the-last window when an animal growled behind her. Its menace chilled her to the bone. She lifted her head and gazed into the eyes of a wolf. His golden gaze flickered from her to the woods. She looked, too. Another wolf stood near in the dense underbrush. The pail she dropped didn‟t fall over, but soapy water splashed up the side of her right pants leg, soaking the fleece through to her skin. She let go of the hose and backed away slowly. The animal didn‟t move. She jumped at the ladder, scurrying up it as fast as she could. Her foot slipped down a rung, and she almost lost her grip. She tried climbing again, less frantic since the animal hadn‟t lunged for her. At the top, she looked down at him pacing. He watched the woods instead of her. A white froth rimmed his muzzle. Rabid dogs foamed at the mouth, or so she‟d heard. She looked at the window to escape and tried pushing up the sash. It stuck. She hammered the edges with the side of her fist. The glass panes rattled from her banging. Once her efforts worked, she pushed again, but the sash stuck halfway up. It wasn‟t enough of an opening to climb through. She looked down when the animal barked. He faced the shed. She saw the door open and J.R. emerge from his workshop. He looked at her, not seeing the wolf at first. She wanted to warn him, scream for him to go back, but in her panic, her voice stuck in her throat. Finally J.R. noticed the wolf trotting toward him. The animal leapt at him and. J.R. raised his hands in defense. Randi gasped in horror, more frightened than she'd ever been in her life. 79

Chapter Ten “Get down, Marshall.” Nick stooped and examined the dog‟s mouth. Then he looked up at Randi. “Are you afraid of dogs?” She hugged the ladder, her eyes filled with terror. “Dogs?” she asked as if she hadn‟t heard him right. “Yes, he‟s just a dog.” “I thought he was a rabid wolf.” “He‟s a German Shepherd,” he said to ease her mind. “And he‟s been playing with toads that have a defensive poison on their skin, It makes an animal‟s saliva foam like that.” “He growled at me,” she said shakily. “He wants to eat me.” His dog was excited to see someone new and J.R. laughed, amused by Randi‟s reaction to Marshall‟s exuberance. Then her alarmed expression changed to annoyance. She probably thought him insensitive to her fear. “He‟s showing you who‟s boss.” He held his hand up, encouraging her to come down. “He won‟t bite.” “Are you a hundred percent sure?” She slid her foot down just one rung, eyeing him as if he were playing a trick on her. “You‟re safe as long as I don‟t give him orders to attack.” He smiled, fascinated by how the mating had relaxed him. Last night, it hadn‟t seemed possible to have a normal conversation with Randi, not with the Lycan part of him vying for control. He still wanted her but could command his impulses. She pulled her foot back up, hesitating. “Come on down, Randi.” He held up both hands, coaxing her to him. “He won‟t hurt you as long as I say he can‟t, and I promise, I‟m not about to let him.” 80

Brenda Williamson She moved cautiously, watching Marshall. One foot after the other brought her closer to J.R. The scent of her grew stronger, more alluring. Once she came within his reach, he grabbed her by the waist. He felt her tense for a second, obviously startled. She was light and easy to hold, so he lifted her to the ground. She turned around. “Thank you.” She tried to repress a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I feel stupid for thinking—” “You were wary of a strange animal. There‟s nothing stupid in that.” He swept a loose strand of hair from her left eye. He liked her instincts. The self-protective trait would be beneficial. “What about the other dog?” She glanced toward the woods. “The other one?” He looked too, and then patted Marshall on the head, realizing the shepherd had been protecting Randi from a wolf, maybe the one he‟d seen in the shadows of the woods the night before. “I only have one dog.” “But I saw another one. He didn‟t come out, but then your dog is pretty scary, and he probably chased the other one off.” “You‟re mistaken.” He rubbed her arm. “You were scared and thought you saw a wolf. The mind plays tricks like that sometimes.” “Maybe,” she replied, placating him, yet not sounding sure. Worried a Lycan was stalking Randi, Nick knew he‟d have to show his claim on her soon. Their only coupling had left his scent on her, but most Lycans preferred witnessing the mating to satisfy themselves that a female wanted and accepted the relationship. Her lips parted as if to say something else. He avoided looking toward the woods again. Marshall would alert him of another threat. He trusted the animal‟s loyalty. When Marshall jumped on him, he let Randi go. “He doesn‟t like me paying attention to you.” She backed away. “Nonsense,” Nick grabbed her hand, not wanting her out of his reach. “He‟s been running in the woods for a few days, and he‟s 81

A Wicked Wolf surprised you‟re here. Marshall, this is Randi Brown. You be nice to her. No jumping and no licking.” He tugged Randi close to him and held her hand out toward his companion. They‟d been together since Maddie‟s death. They relied on each other, and Nick had often talked to him as if he understood every word. Marshall sniffed Randi, wagged his tail and jumped up just as Nick knew he would. Randi slid in closer to Nick, her fingers wrapping his for security. “He likes to play,” he said to her while pushing Marshall down. “I told you, no.” “As long as biting isn‟t on his agenda.” She laughed nervously, hugging his arm, keeping partially behind him. Her fingers felt warm in his hand, the others gripping his bicep were cooler. Once Marshall walked off, she let go and turned to watch Marshall walk to a patch of dirt. He rolled and wriggled in it, coating himself with dust. Her face came back around and she appeared reserved. She hadn‟t been shy last night. “I better finish the windows.” She studied the ladder, apparently intent on avoiding him. Had he misinterpreted her passion last night? Had she been paying him for helping her? Had she not felt what he felt? She picked up the pail. “I‟ll leave Marshall to guard you,” he said. He trusted his dog to do the job for him. “You‟re leaving me?” The fear still in Randi‟s voice surprised him, but he liked hearing that she needed him. “This chore would go much faster if you stayed and helped.” The twinkle in her eyes invited him to return to her, her shyness gone. He nodded, taking the pail while she climbed a few rungs. Marshall lay near, curled in sleep. Nick tried setting aside his 82

Brenda Williamson thoughts about the wolf Randi had seen. His own scent was everywhere, he assured himself. Any Lycan coming within a few feet would know he had mated with the female. Still, some renegades wouldn‟t care. Randi reached out, and Nick handed her the pail. Her fingers curled around the wire handle, next to his. Electrical static zipped from one of them to the other, and they both jumped. He grabbed her hip, steadying her from the precariously one-handed hold she had on the ladder. “You all right?” He looked at his hand on her. He slid his palm around, touching the seat of her sweatpants. He wanted to tug the garment down and bury his face in her ass to inhale her scent. “I got it.” She climbed away from his hand. He studied the sway of her bottom, fixated, proving how beastly the Lycan in him was during breeding season. Desire brought sweat to his brow. He wanted to mount her. Not possible on the ladder, but still he imagined climbing up behind her, her hands clutching the rungs, hanging on as he fucked her. Eventually, Randi came drown from scrubbing the glass panes clean. He shook off his lustful thoughts and lifted the hose, washing the dirty suds off the window and letting the spray follow them rolling down the weathered cedar siding. “Do you think Mr. Wolfe will appreciate my work?” With the back of her hand, she brushed that same strand of hair out of her face that he‟d swept back before. “I‟ve no doubt.” He picked up the ladder and carried it to the next window. “Enough that he‟d consider selling part of this mountain?” She climbed up the ladder again, carrying the bucket. “I don‟t mean his home or the immediate area, but there‟s a lot of land around here he couldn‟t have stepped on.” “He won‟t sell. And you‟d be surprised at the amount of land Mr. Wolfe has trampled across. He enjoys being alone. That‟s the 83

A Wicked Wolf point of owning this much land.” Not to mention his need to give his breed a place they were free to exist without interference from the outside world. “Still, thousands of acres for one person seems a bit selfish, don‟t you think?” She lathered the glass panes and scrubbed the edges. “No.” He had no argument to add without outright lying to her. “Of course, you wouldn‟t.” She looked at him with a knowing smirk. “You like the solitude.” “I‟m not alone.” There was his dog, the forest animals, and a few hundred Lycans on the mountain. The number grew every year as fewer of his kind stayed living amongst humans. As the number of educated Lycans dwindled, so did the formations of new habitats. “Having a dog is hardly the same as human contact.” She came down again. He tossed the hose to the ground and helped her with the pail. She picked up the hose and sprayed the water to get a drink. A sudden spray of water showered him when he wasn‟t looking, and her laughter filled the air. “You looked hot.” She grinned. He grabbed her and the hose. “No sense of humor?” She wiggled in his arms and broke free. “No. Just wish I‟d thought of it first.” He smiled, aiming the nozzle at her. Randi tried dodging the squirt of water, but his aim was good. He wet her from head to toe. “That‟s cold,” she squealed, rubbing her hands over the transparent fabric of her blouse so that it clung tighter to her breasts. “Natural spring water always is,” he replied, unable to restrain his gaze. She charged him with a feeble attempt to wrestle the hose from 84

Brenda Williamson his grip. They fell into the muddied dirt and rolled until she lay on top of him, panting. “No more,” she said, holding his arm away, laughing. “I wanted to cool off, not get drenched.” “Or dirty?” He let go of the hose and placed his hand on her face. “Or dirty.” She repeated the words, breathlessly close to his mouth. She lay there for the longest time quietly staring at him. Her blue eyes sparkled, reflecting the same interest and desire he saw every time he looked at her. He touched that errant lock of blond hair hanging over him. The satiny wet strand stuck to his fingers. She was beautiful, and he never tired of the details. He looked at the lush shape of her wet mouth, anticipating the feel of it against his again. “Are you going to kiss me?” Her lips remained parted, inviting, and ready. “I was wondering what you‟d do if I did,” he said, giving her a chance to decline though he didn‟t think she would. She rubbed her finger across his chin. “It depends on whether you‟re going to call me another woman‟s name.” For a short while, he‟d forgotten Maddie. Randi‟s reminder hit him like a brick. He betrayed his wife‟s memory with his interest in Randi. His mixed feelings scared him. He couldn‟t replace the woman he‟d lost, and he wasn‟t sure he had the strength to get emotionally involved with another. He sat up, moving Randi off him. “I should get back to work.” He wanted to run until he looked at her on the ground. Rejected again, she had that same sad, hurt expression as the night before. He reached down, and when she took his hands, he pulled her to her feet. Rinsing his hands, he handed the hose to her and walked away without looking back. Their mating had been a mistake, stemming 85

A Wicked Wolf from an imbalance between human desire and Lycan necessity, he kept telling himself. He had no right to think she would be his and conform to the inherent Lycan law of claiming a female. Nor was his heart into forcing her to stay by any means, including the subterfuge of disabling her car. “J.R.” She ran up alongside him. “I shouldn‟t have brought it up.” She grabbed his hand and rubbed his arm, mindlessly massaging the gritty mud against his skin. “We‟ve known each other less than a day. There‟s no reason for me to think I had a place in your thoughts.” She looked down and kicked her foot at the gravel. “We could forget I mentioned it.” Could he forget? Could he show her the loyalty she deserved? She was his now, maybe not in a human way, or by her choosing, but his nevertheless. He had to make her happy if he was to have a shot at convincing her to stay. “It‟s forgotten,” he said, lifting his hand behind her head and pulling her to him. A delightful sound of pleasure escaped from her as he pressed his mouth tight to hers. Their tongues entwined and separated as they explored the texture, the taste, and the limits of their reach. They were both filthy, and still, he found her beautifully desirable. Bound to her by much more than his wolfish manner, he wanted everything her gaze offered in the way of affection and sex. Randi slid a foot forward, closing the space between them. Her hands skated up his arms, while he slid his free hand under her soaked shirt, inching his way upward. She squirmed against his ticklish caress until he cupped one damp breast. He wanted her undressed, accessible. It had been a long time since he had more than an urge to fuck. He‟d cut off his emotions for a long time. She changed that. While most Lycans lived a basic, almost human existence, some did not. He had rules. And kidnapping female hikers, making them submit unwillingly to their mating was rape. That was the 86

Brenda Williamson worse crime a Lycan could commit. Deception was a different matter. If a Lycan could coerce, trick and or deceive a female into becoming his partner, then J.R. couldn‟t stop him. He found himself employing that method to keep Randi. “Maybe we should take this inside,” she suggested. “You don‟t you like the outdoors?” He caressed her face. “It‟s not that. But I thought we might wash up and then—” He kissed her, wanting her mind only on having sex. Not where. Not how. He needed to do this out in the open, this once if never again, even though he didn‟t like anyone spying on him. He wasn‟t used to having to prove anything to anybody. However, mating the female in the open would be his gain. Randi played into his plans by showing her submissive eagerness. He roamed her body with his hands and slipped one into the back of her pants. He traveled down, rubbing the supple flesh of her bottom. She turned her head and laid it against his shoulder, snuggling against him as if to warm her drenched body. He shoved her pants below the cheeks of her ass and kneaded the area harder, lifting her slightly, letting her rock up and down against his trapped, throbbing cock. If only he had another hand to open his zipper and free his erection. “That feels good,” she moaned, clutching his shoulders. He drew her in harder, squeezing and pulling her close as he ground his aroused body against her, working at stimulating her natural desires. “Oh God, you‟re good at this,” Randi‟s voice hummed. “Good at what?” He kissed her cheek, turning her in his arms and steering her backside toward him. “Making me hot and jittery inside.” She grabbed one of his hands and pulled it up under the front of her shirt. He rubbed his fingers over her belly and up into her cleavage. Her heartbeat pounded rapidly. She writhed against him, her hips gyrating so her bottom teased his arousal. He captured one of her 87

A Wicked Wolf full breasts, squeezing the soft flesh with alternate rolls of his palm over the hardening tips. Using his other hand, he pushed her pants down to her knees. She wiggled her legs, making them drop to her ankles. He reached between her legs, cupping her warm cunt. She moaned in approval. He parted the puffy lips of her vulva with his middle finger and stroked her clit, already slick with her juices. “See, you‟re very good.” She reached back and raked her nails up his thigh over the denim of his pants. She dug deeper as he fondled the hub of nerves. Her head swung from side to side as she apparently experienced an orgasm. Her grip tightened on his leg. She twisted the denim, catching the hair underneath. The Lycan side of him took over, dragging him to his inborn need for mating and breeding. He rubbed her midsection, imagining her belly swollen with his offspring. The softness of her skin kept him there circling, massaging the area. He‟d already planted his seed. Had it taken root to her womb yet? He lifted his hand up and cradled her left breast in his palm. She shuddered against him as he plucked at the tip, thinking about her fattened nipples dripping with nourishment for her young. He lifted her shirt, and she put her arms up, resting them on his shoulders. “Take it off me,” she told him. He pulled the shirt over her head and threw it to the ground. “This is so crazy,” she moaned, writhing against him. “We‟re outside, anyone can see us.” “Yes, anyone,” he agreed, wanting just that. “I feel like I‟ve discovered an amazing wild beast in the forest.” She raked her fingers up and down the sides of his legs. “Don‟t hold back anything.” Nick shivered, excited by her uninhibited request. She had no idea how on target her statement was. He grasped her breasts, 88

Brenda Williamson twisting and plucking the points. The fiery buds grew under his persistent pinches and tugs. “Mmmm, not so hard,” she whimpered. Lost in the illusion that carnal bliss would give him the perfect future, he stopped his unconsciously rough, milking squeezes. He kissed under her jaw, sucking on the side of her neck. He caressed her tender flesh and leaned his face close to hers. “I want to fuck you hard,” he said, wanting her to agree, hoping his bluntness wouldn‟t scare her. “Yes,” she answered, relieving him of the concern she‟d take offense. “I want you to give me everything you got.” He shuffled her a few feet forward to the tall stump of a tree he‟d cut down. Her sweatpants manacled her ankles. He bent her forward, guiding her to lean over the stump for support. She pulled one leg free of the pants. Heightened sexual instinct made her spread her legs. Like any good Lycan bitch might do, she leaned further and presented him with her delicious bottom. He stroked her back and her hips, aroused by her willingness. Anxious to show the curious visitor in the woods Randi‟s complete obedience, he walked around in front of her. He cupped a hand under her chin and tipped her face up. Then he unfastened his pants and pushed them down to his knees. “Take me in your mouth,” he ordered, grasping his erection and running his hand down it several hard strokes, then let go. She smiled and licked the rim of her mouth. His cock bobbed from the heated breath she released. Her fingers wrapped his shaft and slid to the base, settling against his groin. When her lips parted, he pressed his cock head to them, between them, into the warm cavern of her mouth. She bathed him with a swirl of her tongue. He swelled, stretching the opening, forcing her back so that he came free. “You‟re so big.” She hummed, licking down the length of his shaft, squeezing her fingers gently. “I love big cocks.” 89

A Wicked Wolf Tingles went up and down his spine. His balls grew heavy in their sac, tightening the skin. He trembled, and it wasn‟t because he was shifting. A quick fuck was all he planned to show the sneaky wolf watching them that Randi was his, even while he enjoyed the heat of her breath and the feel of her smooth tongue gliding over the pulsating veins in his shaft. She took him back into her mouth. Her harsh sucking drew the blood to the head, expanding it, making it throb harder. By proving his dominance, he would discourage the Lycan from trying to take Randi, so he ordered her, “Take me deeper.” Only his command came out sounding closer to begging. She was in more control than he was, which disturbed, then irked the beast in him. “That‟s it. Make me harder,” he growled, placing his hands on the sides of her head, holding her while he pumped his cock in and out of her mouth. Perspiration beaded on his skin, dampening him all over with a moist heat. His body began transforming. He resisted, wanting to watch her longer, needing to see her expression when he came into her mouth. But she moved too slow. Her pauses kept him on the brink of release and no more. The beast in him grew impatient. He jerked free of the seal of her lips around his girth. It left her mouth open in the form of a perfect O. The urge to ram his aching cock back into that orifice dissipated with the feel of her hand rubbing mindlessly over his growing knot at the base of his shaft. He moved behind her, not wanting her to see him changing into a Lycan. She wiggled her ass with impatience. “Yes, put it in me,” she invited him. He nestled the bulbous head into the slit, spreading open her labia. Several times, he probed the area, feeling the wetness of her cunt lips kiss his cock head. Then he pressed harder, connecting to the slick entrance of her vagina. Aligned and anxious, he pushed 90

Brenda Williamson and penetrated the tight opening. Her moan echoed long and low. He concentrated on staying in human form as long as possible. “Ahhh…” he groaned, feeling her vaginal muscles close around his stiff shaft. He paused halfway, drew back slightly, and lunged again into the narrow channel. He pumped harder, deepening his penetration. Her gasps increased in pitch and timing, and his efforts to stop the transformation weakened. He glanced above the treetops and saw the faint outline of the full moon in the morning blue. Its effects were too powerful as the last of the scattered clouds moved. The intricate workings of his Lycan needs became the ruling force behind his actions and his appearance. Randi‟s moans expressed restless passion. Her insides contracted, fluttering rapidly. He rammed through the constricting passage, forcing her to take all of him. His swollen knot made it past the opening and lodged between the pulsating walls of her vaginal canal. The tremors started deep inside him, and his transformation became irreversible until his breeding of her was complete. When she tried to rise up a little, maybe to turn her head to look back, he panicked. He forced her down so she lay on the stump instead of leaning on it for support. “Oh God, J.R.” Her arms slid down against the coarse bark where she grabbed the sides of the stump. He tensed, fearing she‟d flee his rough handling. “J.R., please,” she begged, sounding agitated. Had she noticed something different about him? She shouldn‟t be able to see him from this angle. Was she alarmed by the way he mounted her like an animal? “You‟re so damned big,” she groaned. “I don‟t know if I can handle all—” 91

A Wicked Wolf He didn‟t listen. She could say nothing to stop him. Nothing else mattered until he filled her with his sperm-laden semen. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her back, working his erection deeper, securing their coupling. He had to restrain himself, not hurt her with his powerful fingers or the thick-clawed nails. After several plunges that began releasing his semen, its endorphins kicked in and tranquilized Randi‟s insides. She no longer felt the uncomfortable pressure of his cock rasping back and forth within her. “Don‟t hold back.” She panted. “Give it to me good.” Nick trembled. Her encouraging the beast loosened his control. There was more to his sexual exploits with Randi. His feelings ran deep for her welfare and her happiness. His hope rested on making her love him before she learned that myths of werewolves were steeped in fact. Apprehensive, he thought if he sped up things, he could keep his secret a little longer. He slapped Randi‟s ass with the flat of his palm once, forcing her insides to clench, then constrict aggressively on his throbbing shaft. “That‟s it,” he encouraged her with another smack. “Oh yes,” she cried, the muscles in her cunt convulsing. Nick arched, pushing his cock farther into her. He gave another slap on the opposite cheek, then grasped the flesh and kneaded roughly. “A little more,” he groaned, slapping her twice, feeling another spurt of his semen lubricate the opening. She panted faster, wheezing with whimpers, a sure sign he‟d brought her to another orgasm. “Squeeze my cock,” he ordered harshly, jerking as the fluid rushed through his veins and blasted into her. Nick bent her leg on the hook of his elbow and leaned into her, forcing the head of his cock in as tight as possible. She held the 92

Brenda Williamson stump for balance as they stayed locked in position for several minutes. It was hard to believe she hadn‟t noticed his change, and he decided from her position all she could see was the ground or forest. Another quake rocked him against her bottom. He managed to control the pitch of his guttural cry of rapture, keeping it human instead howling like an animal. Once his cock softened, and the knot shrank, he backed away. Not entirely calmed, he required time to shift into a man. He helped Randi up, but seeing the red imprints of his lust burning brightly on her bare ass kept him excited. His cock swelled and rose. He couldn‟t force a transformation to change back to a man. “You have this way—” she panted. “Of making me—” She stooped and lifted her filthy pants from the ground. Stepping into the one pants leg that had come free from her ankle when he picked up her leg, she drew them up into place, ending his mesmerized condition. The change started unusually slow, his hair receding back into his skin, claws and fangs retracting, and cock downsizing. The sinew in his arms became more flexible, giving him better movement of his limbs. His skin softened as the follicles of extra hair shrank to stubble and then disappeared. He no longer felt itchy or had the urge to rub against something. Randi turned, but stopped halfway, not looking back at him or seeing him. His shifting only partially complete, he watched her arm lift. “There‟s that wolf I saw before.” She pointed to the side of the work shed. Nick saw him. The added seconds of her distraction gave him time to complete his transformation to a man. He reached out and grabbed Randi‟s arm, dragging her back behind him. If he had to fight the intruder, he‟d have no choice but to reveal 93

A Wicked Wolf his secret. How would he explain himself and the Lycan breed living on Wolfe Mountain?

94

Chapter Eleven When the wolf turned to leave, Nick bent down and pulled his pants up. This wasn‟t any intruder he‟d shown off his new playmate to—it was his lawyer. Allen Woodall always showed up at the most inopportune times, including several where he‟d witnessed Nick having sex with Maddie. Nick had always figured Allen was a harmless voyeur, enjoying a sideline view of him and his wife. Maddie‟s outlook differed. She‟d thought Allen was obsessed with wanting her. Of course, she was human and didn‟t understand that all Lycans desired a mate. They even fought over them until one had laid claim. “Come with me.” Nick took Randi‟s hand. “What about the wolf?” “It‟s no one important. I mean, nothing to worry about. There are a lot of animals in the forest. You rarely see one this close to the house, but when you do, it‟s better to go in the house and stay there.” “And what if he‟s between me and the house?” “Marshall will chase him away.” But today, no one was going to run Allen off. He was there to talk business. He always had something important to discuss. He‟d not leave until he spilled news on whatever the new deal he‟d developed was, or the exaggerated disaster that had struck Wolfe Industries. Gripping Randi‟s hand, Nick led her into the house, eager to have her alone. Maddie had her place in his past and Randi was the now. Sexual cravings were no longer overpowering and ruling his emotions. He had found an exhilarating freedom from 95

A Wicked Wolf depression. There was another woman in the world he wanted. He only hoped his over-eager lawyer would have the decency to wait in the forest instead of come knocking at his door. He took Randi to the end of the hall into his private, inner lair— his bedroom. She said nothing until he shoved the door closed and pulled her into his arms. “Are we going to have a repeat performance?” She put her arms over his shoulders and cradled the back of his head with her hands. “Would you like that?” He leaned and kissed her gently. “Mmm, do I dare say yes? Dirt isn‟t a girl‟s best friend on her lady parts.” “Then how about I clean all those areas and more?” He twisted her around and steered her to his bathroom. “I like the idea you‟ll be doing the cleaning.” She moved out of his reach, trotting toward the shower. He looked forward to washing every inch of her body and hurried behind her, guiding her directly inside his glass enclosed shower. “Generally, I take my clothes off before I bathe.” She laughed, sliding her arms around his waist as he turned on the faucet. Water sprayed over her head to his chest and shoulders. “We‟ll work on removing them, shortly.” He lifted her face and claimed her delicious mouth. Randi responded with an intoxicating moan. The movement of her body, rubbing and caressing, aroused him. Possessed by her passion, he tangled his hands in her wet hair and held her face. She closed her eyes against the spray of water overhead. His strokes removed the dirt smeared on her face and neck. After he kissed her forehead, smooth cheeks, and delicate eyelids, he traveled to her chin, her throat and the rapid pulse on the side of her neck. He rubbed his hands over her clothing, examining and 96

Brenda Williamson recalling the memories he‟d retained of her shape from their two escapades. “Nothing like washing clothes while we wash ourselves,” he said. “Where have I heard that before?” She smiled seductively. Her fingers glided over him. She unfastened his pants and pushed them from his hips. Quickly they peeled away each other‟s dirty, wet garments one item at a time. It didn‟t matter how they reached nudity, as long as they got there. “You had all the power over me last night.” Randi‟s lips pressed his chest. “Can I have a little control over you?” He touched her breast, fondling the tip, anxious to get her in the bed and make love to her all night long. “What did you have in mind?” He grinned, intrigued, hoping he could accommodate her. His Lycan side wasn‟t so cooperative. He had a lot of pent-up frustrations from his long abstinence. The couple of times with Randi hadn‟t been nearly enough to slake the beast‟s raw hunger for sex. Repeated breeding lasted up to a week after the initial bonding. “Nothing as extreme as tying you up.” Her tongue swirled his nipple, and he shuddered. Her kisses moved to his ribs, his abdomen, and down the length of his hard erection. “It‟s an experiment in how well you can resist me.” She rose up and pressed a kiss under his chin. “Is that agreeable?” “Agreeable.” He breathed the one word reply. Already stirred by her licks against his neck, he doubted he could prevent another transformation. “Good.” Her tongue swished back and forth, lapping at his chest, his abdomen, and dipping into his navel. She wrapped his cock with her fingers and stroked her thumb over the tip. The rough massage, pressing and stretching his skin, provoked his nerve endings. She worked her grip up and down his 97

A Wicked Wolf shaft. Her tongue whipped around the head, teasing his erection to jerk farther into her throat. He placed a hand on her wet hair, ready to guide her. She pulled away. “You‟re to do nothing, remember?” She tipped her head back, and water splashed her face. “Now put your hands on the wall.” He leaned forward, placing his palms flat against the smooth beige tile. His body blocked the shower, shielding Randi on her knees below him. He lowered his head to watch her. “Don‟t move,” she said. Unable to resist watching her take long licks along every side of his cock, he concentrated on not changing. Her tongue flicked the tip, swirling into the dent. It sent shivers down his spine and brought a rush of heat to his groin. His breathing increased rapidly. When she sucked him into her throat, he thrust involuntarily. The ripple of her throat muscles rolled along his shaft as she swallowed. He couldn‟t hold out for a slow orgasm. Then she pushed him back so his cock fell out of her mouth. “I told you not to move,” she growled. Her raspy animal tone gave him goose bumps. His skin quivered and tightened over his expanding muscles. He fought shifting into his Lycan shape. She wasn‟t ready to see him looking less human with his fangs, hairy body, and clawed fingernails. He watched her fingers ringing his rigid shaft near the base. In a loose grip, she pulled and pushed his foreskin back and forth. He saw his knot appear, not big, but slightly noticeable to him. Immediately, he glanced up at his hands. His fingers were still normal, not Lycan, clawed and hairy. How long before that changed? It was obvious his cock was longer and thicker. Randi attacked him from another arousing angle, lifting his throbbing shaft and pressing it to his abdomen. Tilting her head to the side, she lapped at his scrotum. He jerked as if a jolt of electric current stung his nerves. 98

Brenda Williamson “Hold still,” she hissed, grasping his ass and squeezing. He stiffened as her mouth slipped over his sac and took in one of his swollen, tender testicles. She rolled it around with her tongue. He sounded out his tortured pleasure with a low groan. Then she dropped him and he groaned, disappointed she hadn‟t played longer with his sac. She made it up to him by taking his cock back into the wet warmth of her mouth. She drew him in with unimaginable skill. Her sensual hums vibrated against his throbbing veins. He pumped his hips, unable to resist the extreme pleasure. Once again she pushed him back. “No, no, no. I‟m in charge,” she said and slapped his ass. He sucked in a surprised gasp and pressed his fingertips firmer to the wall, fighting the sensation to plunge beyond the knot. Yet each bob of her head brought her sweet lips closer to his groin. He shuddered against the muscles contracting and swallowing him into the abyss. His balls ached. As if she sensed his discomfort, she placed a hand beneath the sac and massaged the taut skin. Her gentle squeezes rolled his testicles together. Her pumping massage primed him. “Oh God,” he groaned, and the knot shifted, bulging at the edge of her lips. He strained to hold back from jamming into her throat. His thick shaft and enlarged cock head would choke her. It was then she tried taking complete power over him. She pulled back, panting and breathing heavier through her nose. “Take me back in your mouth.” He insisted. “You don‟t get to order me to do anything this time.” She sat back on her heels as if to deny him. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he directed her mouth to his cock. Water splashed over his shoulder and rained down on her face. She tried to shake free. Was it him or the water she wanted to 99

A Wicked Wolf avoid? “Let go.” She fisted his erection and kept it from touching her lips. “I‟m the one in control.” The pressure built in his groin. “Suck my cock now,” he growled, growing impatient. “Let me do what I want, or you‟ll get nothing.” She blinked rapidly under the spray of water. He eased his hold, stroking her hair, forcing himself to curb his desire to push her to the floor and take her like a beast. She smiled, showing her satisfaction. He remained tense and in pain. Blood pounded through his veins. Small palpitations of his skin meant his hair follicles were rising. Randi jerked his erection, distracting him from changing. She pumped his flesh in short rhythmic strokes, bringing him to the end of his wait. Then she hung her head back, holding his cock aimed at her chest. His body quaked. An image of his discharge cascading down her breasts drove him wild. He wanted to plow his cock into her. How did he stop himself from shifting now?

100

Chapter Twelve Randi leaned forward. “Next time, don‟t be in such a rush to take control,” she said, sliding her mouth over J.R.‟s cock. To punish him for being so pushy, she thought about not sucking his cock. But the sheer size of his engorged maleness excited her too much to miss savoring the last drops of his semen. She ran her tongue over the flared head, licking him before the shower water removed all traces of it. His trembling caught her attention and she slid her hands up his thighs. She tunneled through his thick, coarse hair with her fingertips, and she felt his tense muscles twitching. She glanced up, but the water ricocheting off his shoulders kept her from seeing clearly what looked like more hair on his torso. She rose beneath his wide frame to investigate the illusion, searching up his abdomen and over his chest. Suddenly, her palms brushed more skin than hair. She tried looking at him. Water dripped off him onto her face. She tilted her head to the side and shut her eyes against the splashing water. “J.R.?” She swept her face clear and blinked. She touched his jaw and rubbed his lips, scrutinizing them. Had she seen more facial hair? Long teeth peeking between his lips? Was it bad lighting or too much lighting that made his eyes glow gold? She rubbed her face again, flicking away the water interfering with what she had to see. “Is something wrong?” He stared at her with the same dark lustful eyes that made her insides twitch. “I must have wolves on the brain. For a second, I thought you 101

A Wicked Wolf had more facial hair and sprouted a—never mind.” “Sprouted a what? A long snout? Pointy ears? Maybe I was a devilish wolf with horns.” He chuckled strangely. “Or did you see fangs?” “No! Well, yes, but not really. It was just water in my eyes,” she said, hoping to ignore the unsettling image. J.R. helped by planting his mouth over hers. His hands were traveling demons, stoking a fire beneath her flesh. She pushed aside her jarring delusions and wrapped her arms around his neck. His tender kiss brought her the renewed haven of carnal bliss. Soon his mouths clung to hers with fervor. She could have stayed there forever, savoring the passionate embrace of the man who awakened every fiber of her being with his touch. He turned off the shower. “What do you see now?” She wiped the last water from her face and looked up at him. “A man who knows what a woman needs.” “And will give you everything,” he whispered hoarsely, fiercely. His smothering kisses left her little room to question his promise. They‟d known each other only a day and he sounded capable of giving her the moon. Was she misleading him? Maybe she read too much into what he said. She didn‟t want a commitment from him even if she loved every enthralling sensation he created. J.R. stepped out of the stall and scooped her up as if she were weightless. Another shiver of excitement swept through her. Suddenly, a small part of her yearned for him fulfill his promise. She studied his profile as he carried her to the bedroom. How had she mistaken his features for a wolf‟s? She slid her finger down his straight nose and let it drop to his luscious lips. He knew how to use his mouth on her. His display of strength and power over her wasn‟t as disconcerting as when he had her tied up. Even though she often preferred to be in control, she‟d loved the way he‟d taken charge. 102

Brenda Williamson His actions seemed more primitively instinctive than egotistical. He deposited her onto the comforter covering his bed. The fresh scent of pines in the mountain air wafted around her. Her guess was he hung his laundry outside to dry. “We‟re getting the bed wet,” she said. He hovered over her. Water dripped from his hair. “It‟ll dry.” He stared intensely as a predator who‟d just captured his prey. A tremor of fear washed through her. She was alone in the woods with a stranger. He could do anything to her, and who would know? Drawn by his primal animal magnetism, she shuddered to think about how he would act if she said she didn‟t want sex. He knelt between her parted legs, hooked his arms under her knees, lifted her lower body from the bed, and his expression changed to something primitive. Her belly churned with the wildest desire she‟d ever felt. His nostrils flared and he bowed his head. He sniffed along her thighs and up the center of her body. She didn‟t know what to think. His behavior was strange, but the effect was shockingly erotic. The heated discharge of his heavy breathing between her legs hit an erogenous area that made her insides tighten. He followed through with a brush of his nose above her splayed pussy. His tongue darted out and lapped at her clit as if he thought he‟d catch the nub unaware. Her body jerked. He tugged her up farther, pulling her buttocks on his chest as he positioned her legs over his shoulders. His arm circled her thigh and he opened her, exposing the feathered pink of her winking center. He slipped a finger in and swirled, stirring, extracting the cream of her release. She panted heavier, witnessing the effects of her fluids on the taste buds of a man. He put the finger in his mouth and savored the flavor. “Delicious.” His head tipped forward, and his tongue licked the air close to 103

A Wicked Wolf touching her quivering pussy. “Oh God,” she gasped in anticipation. He pinched the sensitive flesh and pulled her open more. Then like lightning, he flicked his tongue fast into her. He pressed a kiss to her trembling nether lips A whimper reverberated in her chest when again his tongue shot out and wiggled into the constricting muscle claiming him. The flutter along the walls increased, forcing her to writhe with excitement. He locked her breasts beneath his hands and massaged them roughly. She flexed her hips, grinding the crux of her body into his face. On the brink of her climax, he backed up, dropped her legs to the bed and leaned over her. His erection thrust past her constricting muscles and lodged deep. The sheer energy of total submission arched her. His throbbing cock pulsed, expanding and filling her tight. Her orgasm exploded. Crying out, she wished for the intensity of his release to mingle with hers. His mouth covered her left breast. She held the back of his head, caressing, combing his soft hair. His hips flexed his cock into her with a slow rhythm. Her body responded, mounting a new orgasm. She reached out and grasped the covers, searching for support. He took charge, grasping her hands and pinning them to the mattress. “Oh. . . . Oh, no. . . . Oh, God. . . ” she gasped, feeling him growing larger inside her. Inflamed from their encounter on the tree stump, her insides welcomed the balm from her orgasm. It soothed the tender flesh, burning from each of his thrusts. The rush of adrenaline bucked her up, and his heavy frame pushed her down. He sucked her lips with feverish passion. His trembling body lowered more, giving her no room to catch her breath. Then he let go of one of her hands and spun her hair into his fist, controlling her head. He tipped it to the side and brought her lips to his neck. 104

Brenda Williamson “Mark me,” he commanded harshly. She kissed his damp skin, pressing beneath his jaw. His pulse hammered fast, tickling her lips. She slid her hands up his chest, scrubbing her palms over his muscles as she reached around him to pull herself closer. She loved the feel of her sensitive nipples stirring in the hair on his chest. His body jolted with a violent shudder as she began to mark him with a love bite. “Noooo!” he wailed, wrenching free before she had a chance to leave even a small spot on his tough skin. His almost unbearable weight on her lightened, and he lifted off her. She looked on, misty-eyed and dizzy with ecstasy. “Roll over,” he demanded, grasping her arm. She couldn‟t say no. She wanted him to take her hard. His roughness was a turn-on, the wicked stimulant she desired. He flipped her onto her belly. His arm hooked under her, and he hoisted her to her knees. She gripped the sheets, steadying herself for him. His fingers, the ends as sharp as claws, dug into her hip joints. He pulled her back and poked her bottom with his hard erection. If he moved slower, he might have had better aim. When the end of his arousal hit the target, it ripped into her. Her dripping center accepted the thick shaft, but her insides had a limit. He hit hard into her cervix, pulling back and slamming his body against her again. She whimpered with renewed pleasure. His steady hammering made a climax blaze within her. He pushed her down flat, stretching his body over her back. Propped on his hands, he flexed his hips, tickling her bottom with the hair at the base of his cock. She felt his hot breath sweep across her neck. His tongue swirled up behind her ear. “Spread your legs wide,” he growled like an animal. She already had them fanned as far apart as possible. “Open them,” he snarled again. When she didn‟t move, his weight came fully down. He leaned 105

A Wicked Wolf on his left hand, hooked her leg on the right and pulled, bending it at the knee. Letting go, he lifted back up and thrust. Strangled grunts marked each of his deep insertions, sounds not unlike her own. The constant movement eventually made her leg slide away from its position, straightening from the way J.R. rocked against her. He shifted again, grasping her leg, turning her slightly on her side. He made low growls in her ear if she tried to make the adjustments herself. “You‟re so beastly,” she growled back. “I love it. The hard bumps she‟d felt located at the base of his shaft before, suddenly jammed into her. In her new arrangement on her side, curved forward, she felt his cock head twitching against an erogenous spot that awakened an unbelievable orgasm. Her insides clenched over and over. J.R.‟s howl created shock waves of echoes around her. As she came down from the splendor of his unloading a spray of liquid heat inside her, an eerie sound made her look toward the window. What she first thought were reverberations from J.R.‟s howl was the baying of real wolves in the forest. The shadowy movements at the windowpane made her gasp. From her angle, she thought she saw a man‟s face, or that of a wolf‟s. J.R. dragged her down before she could be sure. She decided to believe it was a reflection of her ardent lover.

106

Chapter Thirteen Randi‟s gasp made Nick glance at the window. He caught the glow of amber eyes before they vanished. The surprise killed his fierce concentration on tying to his bitch. He drew back, feeling the knot shrink. In his half-Lycan stage of change, he caressed Randi‟s damp body. He nuzzled kisses along her back, distracting her from seeing whoever had watched them. Slipping his hand around to her belly, he circled the area that would swell with his offspring. He rubbed the soft skin, imagining his seed already rooted inside. “Are you tired?” He swirled his finger around her navel. “A little,” she murmured breathlessly, sounding exhausted. “Maybe sleep will help.” He snuggled against her, his cock lying limp in the puddle of his semen leaking from her onto the bed. “Yes, maybe it would.” Her rapid heartbeat slowed under his calming strokes over her abdomen. Her silence gave him time to think. On the night of the full moon, he‟d bound himself to her until death. Eventually he had to confess to being Nicholas Wolfe. Ultimately, he had to tell her he was a Lycan. How she would react concerned him. Would she accept his altered appearance or would she find him a freak? Every second he spent with her made his emotional attachment stronger. His heart grew heavy with the worry that she wouldn‟t accept him or the outcome of their breeding. In her sleep, Randi wiggled her bottom, churning it against him. His cock jolted at the prospect of re-entering her. But first, he toyed with her breasts, massaging the tips, slowly waking her. He wasn‟t all animal. Sometimes he could be patient, considerate. 107

A Wicked Wolf He moved his hand back to her belly, kneading the slight curve as if he could speed up her pregnancy. He roamed lower, massaging the sticky dampness between her legs. The heavy scent of her still-leaking essence attracted him. He pulled her over on her back. She shifted on her own, opening her legs. He moved down and licked her. Instinct pushed him to clean her thoroughly. Only in the process, he gave her another orgasm. “Oh yes,” she moaned in her sleepy state. “You‟re so bad.” Nick grinned. She had no idea what a wicked wolf he was, or more important, how wicked he could be. He had bred her. Every full moon that she wasn‟t carrying a baby, he‟d breed her again. How many offspring could she have—would she be willing to give him? Lycan females had anywhere from one to four. She was human, and with her small frame, he only wanted her to have one. At a time. He only needed one to experience the pride of fatherhood, but the idea of many hovered in his thoughts. Randi moaned softly. Her pleased sound stirred his desire to breed her again. Nick stopped dragging his tongue over her skin. If he hadn‟t any restraint, he would have mounted and humped her constantly. It was the way of the beast. Nick kissed the back of her shoulder and slid off the bed. He needed distance from her. It became obvious how deprived he‟d been since his wife‟s death. Sex was not an act of fun between Lycans. It was the creation of life, the propelling force of all animals in varying degrees. Humans chose when and with whom. Other species only choose whom, and once that decision had been made, the when followed immediately. He pulled out a quilt from the old trunk sitting under the window and laid it over Randi‟s naked body to keep her warm. Her nap gave him the chance to meet Allen in the forest, who no doubt had been waiting with the utmost impatience since he‟d peeked in the window. As he dressed, Nick watched Randi. She appeared so at peace, 108

Brenda Williamson burrowing under the covers and hugging his pillow to her face. Did she find solace in his lingering scent on the cotton? He smiled at the drastic change his life had taken since the day before. He hadn‟t thought he‟d ever mate again. Allen even suggested mating was a bad idea, but his mind was set on business. He felt having a mate destroyed a man‟s ability to be ruthless. Nick washed up quickly in the bathroom, putting out a clean towel for Randi when she woke. Walking down the hallway, he stopped at Maddie‟s room. One push of the door lever, and it opened. He looked inside. Not much different than he remembered, yet signs of Randi‟s presence were everywhere. When he moved on and got outside, Allen surprised him standing on the porch in human form. “Who is she?” he asked. “She‟s not a Lycan.” “Observant, as always, Allen.” Nick trotted down the steps to lead him away from the house in case Randi woke. He didn‟t want her coming outside to look for him. Allen would give away his secret without ever knowing. “Did you enjoy watching us?” Nick asked. “You weren‟t exactly behind closed doors.” “It was our first time outside. You know it‟s best to lay claim in front of witnesses.” “It‟s a shame you wasted your time. Since I don‟t socialize with your low-class Lycans, I won‟t be spreading the word for no one to bother with her.” “As for what you witnessed. I can repeat that. It‟s never a waste of time to enjoy a woman. As for the Lycans, you know I don‟t like it when you talk about them like that. Just because you don‟t have anything to do with the pack on Wolfe Mountain doesn‟t mean you can belittle them for not seeking a career and getting rich off my name and my money.” “You need me, Nick. What I make running your business is a 109

A Wicked Wolf drop in the bucket compared to what I make for you.” “Only reason your greedy hide is still employed.” “Who is she?” Allen repeated, looking toward the house. “When you do let off steam, you usually find one of the Lycan whores to have sex with like a human. So why a human bitch?” “She‟s a real estate agent.” “Finally!” Allen‟s sour expression lit with delight. He‟d been trying to get J.R. to sell his land for years. “You‟ve come to your senses. I told you Wolfe Mountain was a gold mine. If Maddie hadn‟t convinced you it was noble to provide for those less fortunate, we‟d have been richer beyond imagination by now.” “First, I‟m already wealthy beyond my needs. Second, Maddie was right to suggest I help our kind. And third, and hear me clearly, Allen. I—am—not—selling. I told you before, Wolfe Mountain will stay a safe haven for Lycans.” Nick grew weary of the same debate each time Allen stopped by. If there were anyone else to handle his business, he would have found a new lawyer a long time ago. But few Lycans chose to live in the human society long enough to get a professional degree. “It wasn‟t safe for your wife,” Allen reminded him. “That Lycan, Benji, raped and killed her.” Nick didn‟t want to remember. “And I took care of that. Crime happens everywhere, Allen. I can‟t punish the whole community because of one offender.” “What of this new bitch? What I witnessed wasn‟t your first time with her. Last night when there was a full moon, you mated her, didn‟t you?” “You know I did, so why ask?” He rubbed his hand over his lower abdomen, feeling sexual hunger stir in his loins. “You idiot. Now you‟ll never want to get rid of her.” “That‟s the idea, Allen.” “Great, another human female to fill your head with her 110

Brenda Williamson whimsical simplicities. Why can‟t you screw Lycan bitches for fun and skip the commitment? Having you running around as a human woman‟s pup isn‟t conducive to good business. Why do you think I‟ve never mated?” “I lean toward believing no one will have you.” Nick looked over at Allen. “Enough about my personal life. Why have you come?” “The new Wolfe Industrial Complex opening is Friday night. Jemco Developers are anxious to know if you‟ll be there for the ribbon-cutting ceremony.” “No.” “It‟s good business practice, Nick.” Allen argued. “They got my money. They don‟t need me.” He stared at the house, anxious to get back to Randi. “You have to go,” Allen said. “Why?” Nick turned around. “To show off the monkey they think they have in their pocket.” “Ever the wolf, thinking everyone wants to take your place as leader of whatever pack you pretend to run. Remember, Nick, I‟m the one who makes sure your businesses stay on track. You gave up on them.” Allen paced back and forth. “Does this bitch know about you? Has she agreed to stay? What‟s her angle? How did you meet?” “You know, while it‟s a proper term for Lycan women, I wouldn‟t go around calling a human woman a bitch. They get testy over the word.” Nick thrust his fingers into his hair, massaging his throbbing temple. “As for Randi, she doesn‟t know I‟m a Lycan.” “How‟d you manage that?” “The dark does wonders for concealment. I‟ll be telling her soon enough.” “I wonder how she‟ll react. I can see it now, you go all wolf on her and she freaks. Humans aren‟t into fucking their pets.” His fears exactly, and he didn‟t need to be reminded. “You know 111

A Wicked Wolf a Lycan can‟t turn into a full wolf during intercourse. It‟ll never be the complete animal that makes love to her.” “Just the half one. That‟ll go over big, a hairy man with long fangs and sharp claws.” “Maddie—” “You got lucky once. Maddie accepted your half transformation. There aren‟t many human women into sex with whoever comes their way. You shouldn‟t delude yourself with the idea another woman will submit willingly to a man who's not quite as dashing in the looks department when he‟s in his Lycan form.” “I‟ll deal with that when I have to,” Nick answered, ruffled by the suggestion Maddie had sex with anyone. “She‟ll turn against you, Nick. Worse than a Lycan without a mate is a Lycan that has to live without the bitch who owns his soul.” Allen‟s laugh as he walked away left Nick feeling the sting of what prejudice had done to his race already. Centuries of living among humans had not brought them closer to revealing their identity as a different species. Too many bad experiences kept Lycans in seclusion. It pushed them into hiding on Wolfe Mountain. Even he had grown tired of hearing about the chaos when a Lycan revealed his true shape to a human. The disbelief, humiliation and despair were a great influence on their kind to keep quiet and stay cut off from the rest of society. When he‟d met Maddie, she‟d given him hope of a better future. Then Benji had killed her. As Nick neared the house, he paused, glancing back at the forest. Before Allen, another wolf had stood in the shadows. Was Randi in the same danger as Maddie? A Lycan out of control, hell bent on claiming a female would kill her before accepting rejection.

112

Chapter Fourteen Randi threw back the quilt and stretched. A quick survey of the room told her J.R. wasn‟t there. “Chores.” She hummed, finding him a dear to be so conscientious about keeping Mr. Wolfe‟s property clean. Her body ached from head to toe. She wasn‟t used to marathon sex. She never went looking for it, and she never welcomed it from any man. Now she understood why. She had never met anyone who took charge. Randi swung her legs to the side of the mattress. She stretched her toes against the cool wood floor. Reluctantly, she rose, and walked down the hall to the room with the woman‟s clothes, and shuffled through the garments in the closet. She tried to find another, not so great looking outfit, but Mrs. Wolfe had expensive clothes. Randi ended up selecting a simple light blue sundress. After taking a quick shower to clean away the evidence of sex, she put on the dress. She fastened the two buttons in the back, and looked in the mirror. The thin strap slipped off her shoulder and she pulled it back up. “I don‟t know who you were, but apparently we‟re not the same size.” She turned back to the closet to hunt for comfortable footwear, hoping for a fit. On a shelf were boxes, each with a pair of shoes. The sixth or seventh box had a slightly worn pair of tennis shoes, perfect in size. She returned everything else to its place and left the room to find J.R. “Need help?” she asked when she found him sweeping the porch. He held the broom out to her. “Have at it.” 113

A Wicked Wolf She took it and began at the opposite end. “I‟ll show you how domestic I can be. Just because my career is in real estate doesn‟t mean I don‟t know how to do other things. Besides, I‟m adaptable.” J.R.‟s silence stopped her chatter. She smiled and looked back, believing his thoughts were on sexual activities. Hers had been. “I‟m going to hunt for that deer,” he stated in a distracted way. “Stay around the house. You‟ll be safe here.” “All right.” She watched him retrieve his gun from inside the doorway. “Will you be gone long?” His shrug as he walked off wasn‟t an answer. His silence disturbed her. Something had changed in his behavior toward her. It wasn‟t good. She propped the broom against the wall and hurried down the steps to go after him. When she reached the perimeter of the dense forest, he was gone. Like an apparition, he vanished. Which direction had he headed? She went back to the house and finished cleaning the porch. Not having any other instructions, she decided to finish washing windows from the inside. The work helped pass time, but nothing dragged out the day more than thinking about J.R.‟s return. Hours crept by. Stir-crazy from waiting, she wandered down the road despite his warning to stay at the house. Ten minutes on a winding trail put the house out of sight. She was much farther away from it than she realized. When J.R. had found her the day before, he‟d led her to the house by a direct route. Even that had been a long hike, and now she contemplated how far she might have to go. Should she turn back? “You shouldn‟t be out here alone, missy.” A man startled her. She stared at the gray-haired old-timer. He didn‟t look dangerous. “You ain‟t from around here,” he commented. “It‟s dangerous in these here woods.”

114

Brenda Williamson “Don‟t I know it. My car ran off the road last night. It‟s stuck in a ditch somewhere down the hill. If it weren‟t for J.R., I don‟t know what I would have done.” “J.R.?” he questioned. “Oh, that‟s what I call him instead of Junior.” She told him. He still didn‟t look as if he knew who she meant, but maybe he always looked confused. “If you‟re trying to escape, you won‟t make it,” he said. “Wolfe will kill you like he did the other one.” “Kill? Who? When? Where?” She stepped back, worried the man might be deranged. “He brought another city woman up here, kept her a long time, maybe a year or more. Then killed her for trying to leave him for another fellow.” “If that‟s true, he‟d be in prison.” Then it occurred to her that maybe that‟s where he was. J.R. never did given her a clue to where Mr. Wolfe was or when he might return. “Not if the law doesn‟t know she‟s dead,” he replied. Okay, that sounded as if Mr. Wolfe had escaped justice, but how? Had he been innocent? Or rich enough to buy his way free? “You find the creek on the east side of the house. Follow it north a short ways and you‟ll see a grouping of rocks. Under them rocks is her remains.” He sounded so sincere, but weren‟t most crazy people intelligent enough not to act insane? “Uh-huh, right. I‟ll be sure to check.” She shuffled back. “I should get going. It‟ll be dark soon, and I don‟t want J.R. to worry.” “Mind me, girl. You be careful around him. He‟ll tell you someone else killed her, but it was him that done it.” Randi hurried away, chilled to the bone by the old man and his words. Once out of his sight, she ran, constantly checking over her shoulder to see if he followed. Blind fear pushed her faster until 115

A Wicked Wolf she reached the clearing where the house sat. She put a hand against a tree and leaned on it while she caught her breath. Who had the man warned her was a murderer, Mr. Wolfe or J.R.? He had to have meant Mr. Wolfe. He just didn‟t know Mr. Wolfe wasn‟t at the house. That had to be it. J.R. wasn‟t capable of hurting anyone. While she rested, she wondered about Mr. Wolfe. Had he killed someone? Was that why he wasn‟t there? Why he had become a recluse from the world? “Where‟ve you been?” J.R. startled her. She spun to face him. “Don‟t scare me like that?” She swatted at him when he neared. His hand stretched toward her slowly. “Randi, what‟s wrong?” “There was a man. He said—” It sounded too bizarre to repeat. And yet J.R.‟s loyalty to Wolfe concerned her. Maybe he kept secrets for the man. “He scared the shit out of me is what he did.” “How? What‟d he look like?” J.R. brushed her hair back from her face. “He didn‟t hurt you, did he?” “No. It was what he said.” “About wolves?” “No.” She looked at him, wondering why he thought it was about wolves. “It‟s your fright this morning, and then in the shower…” “I guess I did sound obsessed with the animal. No, it was something else. But I don‟t believe him anyway. I don‟t know why I thought I was in danger with him. He‟s some crazy old man. Do you know who he is? Where he‟s from?” “Quite a few people live on this mountain.” “I didn‟t know that. I assumed Mr. Wolfe owned the whole place, and he was the only person living here.” “Wolfe Mountain was populated long before the Wolfe family acquired it.” 116

Brenda Williamson “Then that man, he‟s a tenant?” “So to speak. What did he tell you?” Feeling foolish, she wrapped her arm around his. “A tall tale. Let‟s get something to eat. I‟m starving.” Randi took a quick look over her shoulder as she walked with J.R. She didn‟t want to worry, but how could she not?

117

Chapter Fifteen Nick didn‟t pressure Randi to tell him more about the man. She wasn‟t hurt, so he had to assume it was a curious Lycan getting a closer look. He took her to the kitchen. Flashbacks of his initial mating kept him from watching her check the cabinets. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since he‟d had tied her to the cabinet doors, doing to her what he pleased. “You should go shopping once in a while,” she said. She closed the door and turned, her blonde hair swinging over her shoulder. It gave him the urge to reach out and touch the silky locks, but he resisted. “There‟s plenty of meat,” he told her. His freezer was always full, and meat was the only thing he ate most days. “My brother likes meat too, but he knows the value of fruits and vegetables.” She tugged the freezer open. He ate fruits and vegetables, but not the variety she was talking about. Often on his walks, whether he was hunting or not, he brought home wild onions, mushrooms, and dandelions. He picked raspberries, choke cherries, and wild plums, too. “Maybe you'd better choose,” Randi said as she stared blankly at the contents. “Everything is wrapped in freezer paper and unmarked.” “The cut of meat doesn‟t matter to me.” He reached in and took out a package of steaks, knowing it by size and shape. “How‟d you get to be so—” Her fingers wrapped around his as she took the frozen meat. “Caveman like?” “I live a simple life.” 118

Brenda Williamson “Sounds boring.” She set the meat in the sink. “Alone every day. Eating meat for every meal. What do you for entertainment? That is, besides killing deer and making light fixtures.” She put her hands on his sides and rubbed. It seemed a nervous habit. Maybe she wanted sex. Did she think that‟s what he did for entertainment? Bring women home and fuck them frequently? “I mean, there has to be something else. I, for one, like to go shopping. Purses and shoes are my downfall.” She stroked his chest lightly, raking her fingers over his right nipple so that it tingled with each pass. He loved the way she openly showed her affection, her concerns, and especially her desires. As if they might spend a lifetime together, she was showing her emotions freely. He knew it was part of the mating process—the endorphins wearing off. If only he could know if she felt something for him beyond the sex, but that was impossible, unless they stopped coupling. That wasn‟t going to happen this week. “We‟ll have to wait for the meat to thaw.” She moved in closer. “What should we do until then?” Hot, sexy, seductive. He held her face and kissed her, offering up a nonverbal suggestion. She shifted forward, leaning and pressing her hips and chest against him, more willing than she probably understood. He‟d awakened a primordial impulse in her. An ancient force that guided all creatures. She would not sense it, but her body followed the instinctive need. Based on the hormones his body injected into her each time they had sex, Randi would grow more and more amorous. In full heat, like a wolf in season, she would show her hungering need for him most during the full moon. Nick rubbed her shoulders, quelling the frenzied response, not sure he wanted Randi reacting out of pure lust. The foundation of his breed was loyalty. A recessive trait of love had managed to emerge from him when he had been with Maddie. It was apparent 119

A Wicked Wolf now with Randi. The straps of her dress fell from her shoulders. She spun away, and the fabric, a perfect match for her blue eyes, slipped lower. It hung like magic from the tips of her breasts. As if there were music, she danced slowly around the room. She wrapped her arms around herself and swayed from side to side. Her fingers fluttered in the air, and then she used one to motion him to follow. She pirouetted through the doorway of the den and out of sight. “Where are you going?” he called after her. When he reached the archway, he clenched his jaw. He watched her release the dress with a few flicks of the buttons on the back. The garment slithered down her slender frame and surrounded her feet. Her breasts jiggled as she kicked aside the pool of blue fabric. She stood naked in the middle of the room. He found it hard not to survey the entire length of her smooth, almost hairless body. From her full breasts to her slight hips, the amazingly sleek contours of it captivated him. That passionate way she eyed him showed her insatiable thirst for sex. She moved toward him, flicking her foot at the dress in her way on the floor. He looked down at her toes. His groin ached as he imagined her massaging his testicles with her feet. “You‟re staring,” she said, drawing his attention to her smile. “Wasn‟t that what you wanted?” He rubbed the back of his neck, soothing the bristles of hair rising because of his excitement. “I suppose it was.” She waltzed away when he stepped forward. “Then let me get a closer look.” He stalked the room, trailing her. “Not so fast.” She held a hand up as if that gesture could hold him at bay. “Take off your shirt.” He undid a few buttons and yanked the flannel over his head to be free of it quickly. 120

Brenda Williamson “Mmm, you are a delicious sight.” She licked her lips and mindlessly fondled her rosy nipples. He advanced again, anxious to have her soft-skinned body squirming against him. “Wait.” She hurried around to the far side of his chair. “Take off your pants. Show me how aroused you are?” “What makes you think I am?” He tugged the snap open on his denims and jerked the zipper down. “That bulge your pants can‟t hide.” She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and batted her lashes coyly. He shoved his pants from his hips. His cock sprang out and whipped the air wildly. “Oh my,” Randi gasped, her mouth hung open. “Come suck on it.” He cradled his erection in his hand, holding it, offering it to her. Her eyes grew wide with fascination, but she shook her head. “I have something else in mind.” She purred a wickedly seductive sound. He bent down and unlaced his boots. Then he kicked them off and removed his pants. “I want you now.” He told her as he held the back of the chair and leapt over the seat. “You have to catch me first,” she taunted. His muscles tensed and his skin quivered. Pouncing on her without restraint would bring out his Lycan features. He managed control and chased her to a window. It looked out onto the porch and the woods beyond. He fenced her in by leaning with his hands against the wood sash. “Okay, you caught me. What next?” she whispered. He moved closer, inhaling the scent of dampness from her skin. Only seconds separated him from changing into the beast. What would she say? The first time Maddie had seen him, she‟d been 121

A Wicked Wolf surprised. Of course, he‟d already explained what to expect, and she‟d had weeks to understand and prepare herself. Randi had come into his life unexpectedly. He‟d taken what he needed from her without asking if she was willing to consider him as a constant companion, a committed lover. He pressed his naked flesh against hers. “Is this what you had in mind?” A soft sound of surprise escaped her lips. “Oooo, cold, no,” she gasped, stepping away from the large window. He turned her around and pushed her against the glass. “What about this?” “No.” She struggled without much effort to get free. He leaned forward, sandwiching her tighter to the window, rubbing his itchy skin on hers. “How does it feel on your breasts?” He took her wrists and dragged her arms up, keeping her from turning and seeing his transformation. “Chilling,” she moaned. He pressed harder, trapping her in place, absorbing her shiver. His body pulsed with demand. He nudged the hair from her neck and kissed beneath her jaw. His fangs lengthened, and he scraped his teeth lightly over her delicate skin. “It‟s a beautiful view.” She sighed. The peaceful sound she made infused tranquility through him. The chaotic twinges of heat along nerves under his skin and the rush of blood through his veins stopped. The Lycan transformation reversed. He spread his fingers so that hers wove between his knuckles as if mating their hands were symbolic. “There are many things you‟d enjoy here.” He brought her arms down, pulled her away from the window, and folded them with his under her breasts. “That is, if you stayed.” She twisted to face him. “I‟m not going anywhere,” she replied, 122

Brenda Williamson apparently not understanding he meant forever. While her heart had conveyed her inner emotions, her eyes sparkled with the sexual desire of a woman not thinking about anything but fulfilling her needs. “Make love to me, J.R.” She raked her nails over his shoulders. Drawn by her scent, he buried his face into her hair and kissed the smooth stretch of her neck. She rolled her head, allowing him to move from one side to the other. He traveled down and ended at one of her hard puckered nipples. He rolled it between his teeth, sucking the crinkled nub with his lips. Guilt stopped him. “I have to tell you something.” “I‟m not in the mood to talk.” Her hands skimmed down his front. She massaged one of his nipples with the flat of her tongue. She nipped playfully, pinching the sensitive tip. A zing of pain shot through him. Reacting like an animal, he wrenched her away. She bowed her head and kissed his chest. He loosened his hold, accepting her gentleness. He stooped and grabbed behind her thighs and hoisted her up to his waist. Her bare legs folded around his back. The wet lips of her cunt brushed his navel. “You wanted to be marked, remember?” She nipped his chin, gnawing at his unshaven jaw, biting his neck with firm, yet teasing pressure. He would not trust a Lycan with the vulnerable area. However, Randi‟s soft, warm kiss was no threat as it swept along the cord of muscle. She flipped her head to the other side and licked his skin. “I want you to do things to me,” she whispered, flicking her tongue across the shell of his ear. “Naughty things like last night.” Her hot breath seared a trail to his jugular. He let his head lull to the side, feeling a sudden euphoria from her sucking on his pulse. The bite of her teeth, pressing, denting his flesh, kept him alert. “Harder.” He held the back of her head, compelling her to suck 123

A Wicked Wolf without restraint. Blood coursed through his veins, rushing along arteries to pool under his skin. When the sun began to set, the wolves—Lycans living in the woods howled. With his especially acute hearing, Nick listened. Nothing in their tone suggested Randi was in danger. Although, a Lycan would never plan a horrendous act and confess beforehand. He grabbed her face and pulled her to his mouth. Her delicious lips and excited gasps drew him deeper into the kiss. Her tongue fought his for control. Only time could tell how much self-control he had. Randi pushed him into his chair. “Let‟s get acquainted.” She climbed on his lap putting a knee on each side of him and lowering onto his stiff cock. The heat of her vagina encased his erection. He held back groans of pleasure. “We passed that point.” He slid his hand along her smooth thigh, up her side, and down again, brushing her belly. “That tickles.” She squirmed closer, putting her arms around his neck. “J.R.?” “Hmmm?” he groaned, loving the informality growing between them. “I want to make love to you.” Her undulating body caressed him as they kissed. His chest tightened with a hope her words were heartfelt, not merely driven by her lust. He hugged her closer, wanting her near, but she pushed out of his embrace and sat up, propping her hands on his thighs. She leaned back and rocked her lower body, lifting herself on her knees. He matched her motions with upward thrusts that drove him into her, including his growing knot. The rhythmic bounce of her bottom slapping his thighs aroused the animal in him. As the sun lowered, the room darkened. 124

Brenda Williamson “We could use a little light.” She suddenly backed off of him, putting a foot on the floor. He held her wrist to keep her from illuminating the area, which would reveal his transformation if his resistance to stay a man failed. “The dark is better.” “It does add to the atmosphere.” She stepped up on the chair, standing over him. He grasped her bottom and pulled her forward. Her legs bent, so she leaned with her knees against his shoulders. The soft lips of her cunt pressed his mouth. “Oh God.” Her fingers seized the back of his head, massaging his scalp, twisting anxiously in his hair. He sucked on her hard, wiggling his tongue into the wet channel, drinking in the zest. Her shuddering stance weakened. Her position changed. He let her lower down onto his lap. She gripped his cock and held it against her cunt. Her twitching insides claimed him quickly. He helped, raising her up and down on his hardened shaft, bring her ever closer to orgasm. “That‟s it,” he coaxed, slapping her firm bottom each time she rose and making her slam down on him even harder. When his body started changing inside, he stood, not wanting to hold back the beast, but doing so until he could take her to the bedroom. Randi‟s legs banded his waist. Her arms fastened around his neck. “Where are we off to?” she asked, her fingernails gliding up and down the back of his head, sending shivers along his spine. “You wanted naughty, remember?” He carried her down the hall to his room. “Are you sure?” He slapped her bottom and squeezed the warm flesh. “Oh, yeah.” She let out a squeak when he pushed two fingers into the winking ring of her anus. 125

A Wicked Wolf Nick lowered her to the bed, kneeling on the edge, keeping himself embedded in the tightness of her clenching vaginal canal. Then he pulled out, hooked an arm under her leg and turned her on her side. She gripped the blanket and the back of the headboard. He wet his fingers with the creamy liquid from her drenched cunt and smeared it over his cock. Another scoop he dragged up and inserted in her bottom, lubricating the passage with a gentle twist of his fingers. He positioned the crown of his erection at the snug opening and pressed in. She tensed. “Relax.” He rubbed the center of her back, soothing the knot of tension. “That‟s it.” His cock head popped through the ring of her bottom. He inched inward, taking his time letting the opening stretch around his girth. Each time he pulled back, he heard Randi take a breath in relief. Then she‟d groan as he pushed into her again. Over and over, he made the same moves. He went deeper, widened her all the way, and then thrust faster. Sounds of pleasure stuttered from Randi. He reared and plunged harder. His muscles constricted, twisted, transformed, and soon it was the Lycan part of him fucking the hell out of Randi‟s sweet tight bottom, “Oh God, please,” she panted. He kept pumping. The beast unleashed wouldn‟t go away until he spilled himself inside her. She struggled slightly, obviously distressed by his weight slamming against her. He held her by the hips for control as he pulled back and stabbed into her, repeating the motion until the rhythmic penetrations were smooth glides in and out. Faster and harder, his lunges rocked her on the bed. He slapped the cheek of her ass, forcing her to clench as he withdrew instead of as he entered. “Is that all you got?” she taunted. A strained sound of pain edged her words. 126

Brenda Williamson He slid his hands down her thighs. He jerked her legs back, pulling her off her knees. She let go of the headboard with a squeak. He dragged her flat under him, bearing down with his thrusts. His orgasm blazed through his groin. An intense heat like a liquid fire coursed through his veins and released with force. The sounds of his own howling roar almost drowned out Randi‟s distressing cry. When he managed stillness, he heard her erratic breathing—the wheezing gasps of relief. He lifted up, dragging his half-limp cock out of her bottom. From receiving the brunt of his lust, she lay limp, sprawled belly down on his bed. Red blotches marked her bottom from his slaps. Scratched welts raked her sides and hips from his claws. He shuddered as he changed. Had he been too rough? His limbs ached as they twisted beneath the sinew into human form. The hair and claws disappeared. He leaned over and pushed her hair aside, kissed her damp shoulder. It took an enormous amount of effort to hold back from rolling Randi over and climbing between her legs. He eased alongside her and stroked her back. The heavy scent of sex hung in the air. An aphrodisiac, the aroma of her ripe body drew him closer. He licked her arm and then her shoulder, tasting the salty sweetness of her perspiration. “Are you all right?” he dared to ask. “I think I‟m out of shape. I ache all over.” She panted. “You‟ve a beautiful shape.” He pulled her into his arms and picked her up while getting off the bed. She stared at him with a serene expression and touched his face. What were her thoughts? Did she think she‟d seen an animal again but chosen not to mention it? He carried her into the bathroom, determined to take her mind off everything except how much he wanted to care for her. “I have a plan to soothe those overworked muscles.” He stood her next to the tub and turned on the faucet. “It looks like there‟s room for two.” She slid her arms around 127

A Wicked Wolf his. “I have every intention of getting in with you.” “How about a few bubbles?” She reached for the bottle of liquid pink soap on the shelf. “No.” He took it from her, not ready to mask her scent. “You don‟t like. . . . Oh, I‟m sorry. It was Mrs. Wolfe‟s.” “It‟s not that. Bubbles aren‟t for men.” He shut off the water. “It won‟t turn you into a sissy,” she said, joking. He made no comment, not yet ready to tell her that soap would mask his scent on her. Right now, it was important not to hide the fact that he had been with her, especially if she ran into any more Lycans prowling around his house. “Ready?” He got in and sat down first. She held his hand, climbed over the side and lowered down between his open legs, then reclined against him. He wrapped his arms around her. “Tell me about yourself.” She rubbed the top of his legs. “How long have you worked for the Wolfes and lived up here?” “I‟ve lived on this mountain all my life. I grew up about a mile down the north side.” “Do you have family there?” “My parents are dead.” And he didn‟t remember much about them, but his Lycan father and human mother had given him traits most Lycans believed were bad. Since he was ten, an elderly Lycan aunt had raised him with help from the pack. None of them had much control over an adolescent Lycan with a lot of energy, a heap of human emotions, and a knack for finding trouble. “I‟m sorry. How about other family?” She picked up his hand and hugged it to her chest. “You could call them that.” Lycans thought of each other as family because they knew they had descended from one. 128

Brenda Williamson “You don‟t want to talk about them. Okay, I won‟t push.” She sat forward and picked up a bar of soap. “What about friends? Any of them around?” “It‟s just me.” He took the soap and put it back in the dish, not giving her the chance to use it. “That‟s sad.” She settled back against him. “It‟s not as bad as you think.” He swished water over her breasts, up around her neck, washing her with his hands. “I stay busy.” “Do I ask, busy at what? Or is that another topic you‟ll not discuss?”

129

Chapter Sixteen After their bath was over and they were dried, Randi took the shirt J.R. held out, pulled it over her head and let it drop in place. The black cotton hung mid-thigh not unlike her nightshirt at home. She tugged the collar to her nose. While the garment was clean, it retained a hint of J.R.‟s scent. Something in that smell aroused her. He stirred up her darkest desires. The strong, animalistic yearnings she had for his touch remained ever-present even after they had fucked. She felt drugged by sex, a silly notion if ever there was one. “I‟m famished. Those stale cornflakes weren‟t very filling.” She followed him into the kitchen. He unwrapped the meat he‟d taken out to thaw. “This won‟t take long.” He opened the kitchen door and went outside. She leaned in the opening, unable to resist watching him. Every muscle beneath his smooth, taut skin surged with his movements. It reminded her of how strong he was when he wanted her in a certain position, forcing her into submissive poses. She tried not to like his brute strength over her, and yet she couldn‟t deny loving the results—orgasms so intense it took forever for her to come down from the euphoric high she'd always experienced. “You don‟t have much hair on your back, yet when we were together, I thought. . . . ” She was sure he‟d felt furry, but obviously he wasn‟t. Maybe sex had warped her mind. “Never mind.” He lit the grill and tossed the meat on the rack without waiting for the coals to heat. “How do you want yours cooked?” “Medium-well. No, make it medium rare. For some reason I have a craving for a really juicy steak.” 130

Brenda Williamson “Try rare.” He shut the lid. “I don‟t want it that bloody.” She sat on the porch step and waited for him to grill the meat. His silence left her mind to wander. She thought of the creepy man in the woods, with his story about Mr. Wolfe killing someone. He sounded bitter, resentful. Did he have a grudge against Mr. Wolfe? What was he doing hanging around so close to the house? The steaks were ready before she knew it. “Here, try this.” J.R. said, holding the fork out with a piece of meat that dripped blood profusely. She shook her head, never liking meat that rare. “Just try one bite,” he coaxed her. The underlying demand in his tone thrilled her, and she relented. She opened her mouth, accepting the small piece. A trickle of juice ran down her chin, and J.R. leaned down and licked it away. His tongue swished over her lips and between, parting the way to enter. Goose bumps prickled her arms. She was beginning to appreciate being the submissive, dutiful woman. Only to this man, however. He know how to balance his power with rewards. Randi swallowed the meat without chewing it. She watched J.R. sit down next to her. He wanted sex. She read that in his smoldering gaze. Incorrigibly ambitious, he offered the next bite with his kiss. She took the meat from his lips and gulped it down so he‟d mop her tongue with his. One piece after the next turned the meal into an exotic seduction. She lifted her leg over his lap and sat facing him. “You excite me, J.R.” “I know.” He set the plate on the porch. “Cocky, aren‟t you?” “I‟d call it more like aware.” He pushed his hands up her back. “Of what?” “Of how a female‟s hormones change under certain conditions.” 131

A Wicked Wolf His stimulating touch circled her shirt over her breast. His fingering of her nipple through the cloth stimulated the nerves in her vagina so the muscles twitched. “I can‟t argue there.” She bit her lip, anxious to feel his hands skating under her clothing. As if he knew, he drew the collar aside, exposing her left shoulder. He kissed her there and up the side of her neck. His hand moved between them and his fingers skipped over the buttons, not undoing them. She held her breath, imagining him showing his strength over her again. If the words wouldn‟t take away from her ideal scenario, she‟d demand that he forcefully rip the garment off her. She watched his expression, the seriousness in his gaze. Was he sensing her thoughts? Her wish to be ravished by him? A chill suddenly ran up her spine. J.R. grasped the collar of the shirt and yanked it open. Buttons pinged on the wood steps, skittered down and hopped to the ground. He twisted around and laid her back on the porch floor. She heard the clatter of the plate she bumped bounce down the steps as well. Her gaze remained on him unfastening his pants. She swallowed hard seeing his cock escape the denim as he pushed his pants down. He reached out and shoved her knees open. “Take me hard,” she said, as if he didn‟t know that was what she wanted. He ran his hand up and down her thighs, between them, thumbing open the lips of her cunt. She watched him bend down and nuzzle his nose in her sex. He sniffed her twice and then licked her. His teeth grasped the tender flesh and pulled. Trepidation flitted through her. His animal-like behavior scared her. But it was like a wild ride at an amusement park. She expected—wanted to feel on edge, to have the rush of adrenaline. With her eyes closed, she thought of the other sensations he 132

Brenda Williamson created. The puffs of his heated breath moved over her belly, up to her breasts, back down to her spread legs. He licked between the folds of her sex again, deeper, sucking her clit into his mouth. She swept her arms along the porch up over her head, surrendering to his actions. Her core throbbed in anticipation of his thick cock plunging in her. He lifted up and grabbed her right leg under the knee. “Turn over.” He pulled at her to roll her. She shook her head, wanting the intimacy of facing him when he came in her again. He forced her over. “No, J.R.” She fought his positioning of her. On hands and knees, she tried crawling away. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back. His face slammed into her bottom. She wanted to try to escape him again, except he buried his nose into the split of her ass and sniffed. His tongue slid up against her anus, pushed in to her. “Oh God,” she moaned, flabbergasted by something never done to her before. His tongue swirled the rim. Immediately, her vagina constricted. He kept poking and lapping at her until she was weak from an intense climax. She leaned down giving him better access. Then his hand cupped her mound wet from the orgasm still tweaking her insides. He smeared the creamy fluid up and pressed it into her bottom. She held still when his erection inched into her, hardly recalling that she‟d wanted missionary style sex. It seemed impossible that she‟d be able to handle another ass fucking, but she'd hardly noticed the soreness from the last time. The slow and steady thrusts worked his cock in farther. His fingers began feeling like talons digging into the joints of her hips. He jerked her back and forth, building up a burning friction that set her erogenous points on fire. With her body rocking, her dangling breasts brushing the wood planks. She considered what a splinter in her tender flesh might feel like, and the image wasn‟t 133

A Wicked Wolf pleasant. So, hunching her back, keeping her head down, she spared herself from knowing. She rode out her repeated orgasms, and J.R.‟s, when he exploded inside her. God, she was sore. She thought about leaving, going home. Her body needed a break. “That was intense.” She gasped, trying to catch her breath. He responded with a grunt. His cock shrank back and dropped out of her. His semen spilled out as well and rolled down the insides of her thighs. “I hope there‟s more hot water for another bath,” she said, turning over and sitting on the porch. J.R.‟s fiery gaze hovered on her splayed legs and then lifted to look at her. For a second, he made her think of the old man in the forest, his concentrated stare warning her of danger just as much as his words. “That man I met in the woods. . . . ” She began, closing her legs and the shirt over her breasts. “What more do you know about him?” “It‟s getting late. You should get to bed and get some sleep.” He bent down and pulled his pants up. “I‟ll be going out again early in the morning. I‟ll try not to make too much noise when I pass your room.” “Pass by—” She thought they might be sleeping together after all the sex they‟d had. While logically she thought of having a break from him, she wasn‟t ready to give up one fantastic minute she had with him. He picked up the plates and walked toward the open door of the house. His sudden departure made her feel rejected. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed away the chill of J.R.‟s coldness. Was it her questioning him about the old man? Did J.R. know what the old man told her? Was his loyalty to Mr. 134

Brenda Williamson Wolfe so strong he would keep a murder secret? She hurried into the house and to the room she was using as her own, her emotions running rampant. Disappointed by how quickly he distanced himself from her, she re-examined everything she‟d been feeling for him since they met. By the time she slid down into the bath to wash, she decided great sex was making her overinfatuated with the man. Tomorrow she had to show restraint and not act like some lovesick sap.

135

Chapter Seventeen Outside in the forest, the wolves howled for hours. Nick generally ignored the sounds of their triumphs and woes. Yet, tonight, he couldn‟t help feeling the draw of nature and the instinctive habits of the Lycan. He walked down the hall to Maddie‟s room. She‟d been the love of his life—his soul mate. And she was gone. He pushed down the lever and opened the door. His primal impulses forced him that far. He had a new mate. But was she just a replacement, a body to hold, a bitch to use for his sexual gratification? He sniffed the air. Sometimes, his mind played tricks on him, using the lingering scent of Maddie as a stimulant to his imagination, making him believe she was still around. Randi‟s presence aided that fantasy. Tense, he stepped over the threshold and moved slowly forward. He looked at Randi as she slept. Her muted moan drew him to the bed. The covers hid her face. Another soft hum taunted him. Then she rolled onto her back, kicking away the covers, her head twisting lazily from right to left and back. She wasn‟t a substitute. Somehow, some force beyond understanding sent her to him to compel him to face the loss of his first love. She was there to breathe life back into his heart. He glanced away and looked around the room, Maddie‟s room. Was her ghost there watching him, seeing how torn he was about accepting his feelings for Randi? Stepping back, he aimed for the exit. His desire to cradle Randi in his arms and kiss her for endless hours seemed a betrayal of Maddie. “J.R.,” she murmured in her sleep. “Do things to me.” 136

Brenda Williamson She dreamed of him? Yes. He wanted that. The Lycan in him had come for the comfort of his mate, to fill her desires and sate his own. Unzipping his pants, he pulled his cock out and stroked it. He watched Randi‟s lips part as if she wanted him to invade her throat with hard, deep thrusts. When she moved her arm, her hand ended up resting on one of her breasts. Her semi-erect nipples were pale compared to when he‟d abused them with his rough suckling. He ventured forward again, mesmerized by her seduction. Another of her alluring moans escaped. He leaned down to the breast she wasn‟t fondling and licked her nipple. Drawn by the tantalizing flavor of her skin, he sucked on her breast. “Mmm,” she purred with contentment. The beast in him didn‟t appreciate the feline sound, nor did he like the missing scent of himself on her. She had used the pink bubbles. He licked her harder, drooling saliva on her clean body and spreading it around. Her moans grew louder as she became aware of the coarse texture of his Lycan tongue. Trailing a line from between her breasts, he smeared her belly with his spit. He played lightly in and around her navel, anxious for her to wake and accept him. “Yes.” Her fingers dove into his hair. Urgently she pushed him lower. His body pulsed, aroused by her forcefulness. He had to have the female. With her so hot and delectable, he gave into temptation and delved into the moist folds of flesh. A quick thrust of his tongue against her clit, awakened the nerves. She panted. “Oh yes, it feels so good.” The stimulant worked fast. Her whimpers became stuttering gasps. He sucked at the creamy essence trickling from her quivering folds. He took and took and took with greed. The soft sounds of 137

A Wicked Wolf her pleasure deepened into an animal language of lust. His sac contracted, drawing tight to his body. Heat rippled in waves through the veins in his cock. His orgasm surfaced toward release, making him grab himself. A cry bellowed from his lungs, and the unexpected spurt of semen shot into his cupped hand. He swabbed it over the crown of his erection and then grabbed her leg. “J.R.?” She gasped. “Yes,” he answered hoarsely, on the verge of transformation. His heartbeat fluttered rapidly, making it hard to breathe. “Turn over.” He didn‟t wait. Still holding her arm, he pulled her so she laid face down. Grasping her hips, he lifted her bottom into position. His neck made a cracking pop as he shook it to the side and let the Lycan emerge. The contorting muscles coiled into their new place beneath his skin. He didn‟t wait for his change to finish before pushing his erection into the lubricated tight core of her vagina. Her whimpers lengthened, showing her heightened consciousness. “You‟re so damned big,” she said finally. “It feels like you‟re tearing me apart.” He continued thrusting, plowing his knot into her. “Oh God,” she cried out. He drew back and shoved his cock into her even harder. She wobbled, her arms almost buckling and sending her forward onto her face. He held her up. “Don‟t stop,” she demanded, a feral growl groaning from her. He leaned away until the pain of his stretched sheath sent him forward in search of release. His position prevented her from seeing his altered shape, as the Lycan part of him sought to impregnate her. Jerking with uncontrollable lack of will, he pushed her down flat and collapsed on top her, pinning her to the bed. 138

Brenda Williamson Unable to detach, he rolled to his side and held her tight. Over time, maybe fifteen minutes, extremely longer than usual, his tremors subsided enough that he could shift to human form. Had he been so out of practice that he was worn out, unable to change quickly? He moved over and flipped Randi to her back, staring into her sex-sated eyes. “You‟re unpredictable.” She touched his face. “Yes.” He drew her head up from the mattress and kissed her hard. “And demanding.” She sighed as their lips parted. He rolled on the bed, hugging and kissing her. His cock stiffened again, hard and aching more than before. He grabbed her under the knee, jerking her leg up, prepared to take her like man. However, the Lycan wanted the pleasure and his body tensed, aiming for transformation. To hide his appearance, he‟d have to flip her over again and take her from behind. “My turn to be on top.” She pushed him to his back. Her leg then slid over his abdomen and she sat straddling him. “No.” He pushed her off and got up. “J.R.?” Surprise was evident in her tone. “Get some sleep.” He stalked out of the room, knowing he couldn‟t harness the Lycan‟s emergence while it was still night. “J.R., wait.” “Go back to bed.” He growled, hearing her feet padding behind. “Something‟s wrong. What?” she insisted. “To bed,” he barked, irritated by her disobedience. He turned and stared at her. Moonlight spilled across the den. Her skin glistened in the rays of light. Beauty glowed from her lustful stare. “I need some time alone,” he said, hoping it was enough explanation to get her out of the room. 139

A Wicked Wolf She didn‟t move. His heart skipped a beat. He didn‟t want her to leave. But then she turned and walked away. Turbulent emotions made it hard to think. How could he make this work if he couldn‟t tell her who and what he really was?

140

Chapter Eighteen Randi woke abruptly in the morning. Her restless night had started with troubled thoughts about J.R.‟s mood swings, and then nightmares about the old man had awoken her. Who was he? Was she really in danger? Where was Mr. Wolfe? J.R. would protect her no matter what, wouldn‟t he? She put on another dress, this one fancier than the last. But it wasn‟t her fault Mrs. Wolfe had had money to buy luxury. She walked to the kitchen, her thoughts drifting to going home. It didn‟t look like the mysterious Mr. Wolfe planned to return. Maybe J.R. didn‟t want him to so he could keep her around longer for sex. She‟d never known a man who got erections as often as he did. The poor deprived employee of Mr. Wolfe had the stamina of a horny dog. Her stomach grumbled, and she looked for something to eat. On the table was a covered dish—a pot lid sitting on a plate. She lifted the lid and found a mound of scrambled eggs. She hadn‟t seen eggs in the refrigerator. J.R. was full of surprises. With a smile on her face, she picked up the fork and dug in, cleaning the plate in no time. Satisfied by the meal and J.R.‟s thoughtfulness, she went outside in search of him. The shed was dark and empty, and Marshall was nowhere to be seen. Then she checked the den. The gun J.R. kept by the door was gone. She went back out on the porch. Clouds darkened the blue sky. Dreary days depressed her. The threat of rain worsened her mood. A short walk to clear her head usually worked. She looked at the path near the work shed and decided to go a little way and come 141

A Wicked Wolf back before it rained. A wolf in the distance howled, stopping her in her tracks, and leaves rustled nearby. Marshall sprinted toward her from the thickets. She tensed, panicking. He rushed up to her and jumped. She braced herself and managed to stay upright. “Can‟t you walk instead of charging me? That scares the crap out of me.” She petted his head and pushed him down. “Come on. You can come along and protect me.” She wandered into the forest, east of the house. She heard the burble of flowing water and headed for it. Just as the creepy man had told her, there was a creek. She found a path parallel to the winding stream. Determined to find a grave, she kept to the narrow trail. It wove between the brambles and open areas of the ground layered with pine needles. The gloominess of an oncoming storm increased, and the sky darkened more with thick gray blocking all traces of the sun. She wrapped her arms together and squeezed her body to dispel the onslaught of a chill. The sudden eerie silence disturbed her. Hadn‟t more birds been chirping only moments ago? She glanced around and discovered her protection had abandoned her. Where had Marshall gone? She should go back to the house. J.R. had seemed angry the last time she went off on her own, and the old man had frightened her. But the murder he‟d described had roused her curiosity enough to keep her from turning back. She walked on. Every step took her farther from the house, deeper into the woods. How far should she go? The air hung with dampness as the wind picked up. Tree limbs shook, rustling the leaves, tearing some from their branches. A spit of rain hit her, and she almost turned back. Then to the right, she saw a pile of stacked rocks. She hurried to them. Their distinct pattern made them look like a real grave marker, not just a random pile of stone. She chewed on her thumb and tried to come 142

Brenda Williamson up with a better explanation for the rectangular pattern covering a spot the size of a human being. “Maybe it‟s a deer carcass,” she muttered, thinking about J.R.‟s chandelier. He said he used everything from the animal. Did that include the bones? The man believed Mr. Wolfe had brought his wife here. He said something about bringing another woman and killing her too. Did J.R. know? “What am I thinking? J.R. wouldn‟t be a part of a murder coverup.” His solitary existence on top a mountain didn‟t cry out normal either, not compared to anyone else she‟d ever known. There was no way she could sit alone as he did, day after day, without human contact. A twig snapped, and she turned. “Where have you been, Marshall?” Then she froze, paralyzed by the outline of a wolf, not J.R.‟s pet. The wild animal moved out of the shadows, running faster, even though he had to pass through briarwood thickets. Her heart thundered with fear, keeping her riveted to the spot. The wolf raced toward the creek that separated him from her. This was no tame dog or a cute cuddly creature of the woods. He looked dangerous, and he headed for her. The animal leapt into the creek, not hesitating as he splashed into the narrow waters. Droplets from the wet spray hit her in the face. Or was that more rain? She blinked as the coldness woke her from her paralysis. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she chastised herself for delaying her run for cover. She ran up the slope of the hill, already knowing she couldn‟t outdistance a wolf. Her scream came out a harsh gasping whine from a throat too dry. Where was Marshall to give her a chance of escape? Why hadn‟t she stayed in the house? How soon before the 143

A Wicked Wolf wolf pounced on her? Tripping over a raised root, she toppled to the ground, her attempt to get away ruined. She threw her arms over her head to protect herself from the animal‟s attack. “Halt!” J.R.‟s order thundered around her. She looked up at him, afraid for his safety too. Then she glanced behind her. The wolf had obeyed. A wave of relief washed through her trembling body. “A-another one of your d-dogs?” she asked, her throat tightening around the words. J.R. trotted down the rough slope and positioned himself between her and the snarling animal. “No,” he answered, never taking his eyes off the wolf. She got up slowly from the ground and stayed behind him. Terrified by her near fatal outcome, she reached to hang onto J.R., then drew back her arm, afraid her touch might interrupt his silent standoff with the beast. She moved to the right, enough to watch the wolf‟s menacing gaze locked onto J.R.‟s. To her amazement, the animal stood like a statue, entranced by the stare-down. Or was he cleverly plotting his attack? J.R. squatted to the ground. He made an odd growling sound, almost like an animal. She didn‟t see the advantage if the wolf came at him. Then, the wolf spun away and ran off into the woods. J.R. rose, turning to her. “I told you it wasn‟t safe to come into the woods.” She refused to back down from his reprimanding stare. “I wanted to take a short walk. Marshall was with me most of the time,” she said as if it mattered now that the dog was nowhere to be seen now. “And that man I ran into yesterday, he said I‟d find a grave with Mrs. Wolfe‟s body. Is that really her grave?” she asked, pointing downhill toward the creek, fearing she knew the answer. “Yes.” J.R. frowned. “It‟s Maddie.”

144

Brenda Williamson “The woman‟s name you called me?” “Yes.” “She was Mr. Wolfe‟s wife, wasn‟t she? The two of you were. . . . You were close like—” His silence gave away the truth. They were lovers. “Why is she here, and not in a proper grave in a cemetery?” An eerie chill made her shiver. The wind whipped around them, even as she glanced around for signs of that wolf‟s return. Where was Marshall? Back at the house? Or chasing a rabbit? “This is a proper grave for up here,” J.R. said. She wasn‟t going to argue, even though she didn‟t think it was true. The state had laws against burying people just anywhere. “That man I saw, he said Mr. Wolfe brought her up here and then killed her.” She hoped J.R. wasn‟t in on anything so sinister that she'd endangered herself by saying so. “He didn‟t kill her.” His jaw clenched, showing a hint of frustration or anger. “Then how did she die?” She pressed, unsure why it seemed important to know details. A woman who appeared to have meant a lot to him was dead. It should have been a good thing, no competition from her for his affections. Case closed. However, if she didn‟t know what happened, how did she trust that she was safe with J.R? “Let‟s get back to the house.” He touched her arm. She flinched, afraid his reluctance to talk meant the worse—that something awful happened to Maddie Wolfe and J.R. was keeping it a secret. “Randi?” His brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Let‟s go before it starts to rain.” “I‟ve been wet before. I‟m not moving an inch until you answer my question. This is one topic you‟re not going to avoid.” She 145

A Wicked Wolf folded her arms, giving him a determined glare, hoping it masked her fears. “How did Mrs. Wolfe die?” He swept the hair back from his forehead and looked at the sky. When they met, he‟d been out hunting and had on a rain slicker. The rain couldn‟t have concerned him that much then, nor should it now. “She was murdered,” he said bluntly. Randi gulped. “And neither Mr. Wolfe nor I killed her,” he added before she asked. She let out a deep breath, deciding to trust his declaration rather than freaking out over other possibilities. “Who then?” “A man who used to live on the mountain.” “What happened to him?” “He‟s no longer here. There are laws against murder.” He held his hand out to her. “Now can we go back to the house?” She went ahead of him. She didn‟t want to think he was involved other than knowing the circumstances of the murder, but he was a stranger to her. How much could she trust anything he told her? He‟d hadn‟t once acted as if he would hurt her. In fact, until the wolf showed up, she‟d felt overprotected by his insistence that she remain close to the house. What about the forest did J.R. need to tell her wasn‟t safe?

146

Chapter Nineteen Nick trailed Randi toward the house, keeping an eye out for Allen. What had gotten into him? While his lawyer already expressed a dislike for having a human female around, he‟d crossed the line trying to scare Randi away. He stayed back from her to avoid temptation, a losing battle if ever there was one. Her ripe scent, riding on the winds sweeping across Wolfe Mountain, enticed more than him. To other Lycans, especially pureblood ones, her intoxicating pheromones triggered strong urges to mate her. “J.R., I think it‟s time that I—” A crack of thunder stopped her. A jagged bolt of lightning flashed from the sky and hit a nearby tree. Randi shrieked. She turned and rushed toward him. He caught her by the arms. Then pulling her close, sliding his arms around her, he offered her the security and strength he desperately wanted to give her. “I hate storms.” She looked up at him. “You told me that.” He stroked her back, massaging the tension in her shoulders. “But you‟re safe with me.” She turned her head and put it against his chest. “Even you can‟t protect me from a storm.” “You‟d be surprised what instincts I have when it comes to nature.” He guided her up the hill toward home. The rain came, soaking them. He didn‟t have a slicker to offer her, but they didn‟t have far to go. Instead of following the path along the stream, he took shortcuts. Where briars were in the way, he went first, carefully holding the sticky branches back for Randi to pass by. 147

A Wicked Wolf Each roll of thunder made her tense. She‟d shudder as if the reverberating sound traveled through her limbs. The downpour had dulled her feminine scent in the forest. But it didn‟t purge it from his house, and he couldn‟t ignore the peaked cycle of her ready womb. “Randi.” He shucked off his dripping shirt and dropped it to the floor. She turned and faced him. Six, seven feet separated them. He took off his boots and pants. “It‟s time you learn what I am.” His voice came out harsh as his vocal cords were reforming into a Lycan‟s “What you are?” Apprehension glossed her eyes. He looked at his hand and for detectable traces of his transformation. None showed yet. What alarmed her? “Don‟t tell me you killed her. I don‟t want to know.” She spun away. “Whatever secrets you have, you don‟t have to share them.” “I didn‟t kill Maddie.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her around to see him change. “And the secret I‟ve been keeping from you, affects you.” “W. . . what are you t. . . talking about?” “I‟m not as I seem.” Before his last word, his muscles knotted and twisted, forming his underlying structure. His nerves stretched from the coil of sinew reshaping. It hurt to fight the transformation. “J.R.?” Randi whispered, her eyes widening in astonishment. “I‟ll not hurt you.” His fingers stretched further around her upper arms. The tips of this thickening nails turning into claws, dented her skin. A horror-stricken look warped her features. “I will never hurt you.” “Let go.” She pulled back, fighting his grip, panic evident by her low whines. 148

Brenda Williamson “I already mated you.” He jerked her forward. “I can‟t ever let you go.” Not as horribly ugly and deformed as the Lycan of legend, his form was still a huge adjustment for a human. Only he couldn‟t give her time. Dragging her to his expanding torso, he slid his hands to her back and practically crushed her to his shifting frame. He sniffed at her neck and under her hair—a Lycan practice of preparing his female for his mount. She struggled. Females usually did. . . at first. He ignored the way she squirmed to break free. He raked his fingers against the shroud of cloth covering her body and ripped it from collar to sleeve. With a bite to her bare shoulder that Lycans used to persuade females to submit, he forgot about her delicate difference. His sharp teeth cut her skin. Her scream broke the spell of his overwhelming lust. Follicles of coarse hair receded into his skin. His structure shrank back. Appalled by his lack of gentleness, he hugged her to his naked human body. He ignored her shrieks and her thrashing to get free. “You‟ll get used to me,” he whispered, remembering how Maddie had, once the initial shock was over. Randi had to accept him. He was bound to her for life. The thought of her repelled by him was excruciating. If she tried to leave him, the consequences would be dire. He kept one arm banded around her, locking her arms at her sides and her body against his. “Just relax. You‟re safe.” “Safe.” She snorted her disbelief. “You‟re—You—You changed into a monster.” Her resistance to his hold decreased, so he loosened his hold. She brought her arms up between them and pushed her hands against his chest. “I can see how you‟d think that. But I assure you, I‟m not a monster.” He retained his hold on her. 149

A Wicked Wolf She turned her head and gazed at her shoulder. “You bit me.” “An accident.” “No one unintentionally bites someone,” she hissed with anger. “I can explain.” He put a hand to the side of her face. She cringed. “I‟m not going to hurt you.” He pulled her head forward and kissed her temple. She jerked her head back. “A bit too late for me to believe that.” Her bravado lacked conviction as tears slid down her cheeks. He wiped them away, upset he‟d made her cry. “I‟ve wanted to explain from the very beginning. Let me now.” “First, let me go.” Her clenched fists opened so her fingers spread out on his chest. The warm tips stirred over his skin. Her unconscious stroking suggested she was becoming aroused. Once again, unaware, her body hungered for the sedating hormones in his semen. “If you promise not to run,” he said, concerned for her safety. Between her heat cycle giving off a scent to attract a male and her body requiring the tranquilizing effects of sex with a Lycan, her fighting the whole process meant danger for her. “Trust me, Randi. You have nothing to fear from me.” He slowly lowered his arms. When she didn‟t move back, he did. He knelt on one knee, cast his gaze downward, and bowed his head in surrender to his mate. Female Lycans appreciated the gesture the way human women valued respect. Randi had come to the mountain too late in her heat cycle, so she‟d missed that part of the courtship. He felt her hand graze his hair and retreat. She wanted to touch him, a reaction she obviously couldn‟t reconcile as she withdrew. “The night in the kitchen—. You were—. In the dark, when I couldn‟t see, you were—.” “I‟m a Lycan.” He lifted his head and looked up at her. 150

Brenda Williamson “A werewolf?” “There‟s no such thing.” He rose, noting the flicker of her gaze drop to his semi-erect cock and back up to his eyes. “But you changed?” She gulped, making the muscles ripple in her sleek neck. “Not to kill you.” He reached out, still fearing she‟d run. An underlying panic showed in her stance. He needed to say something to ease her mind, but he also needed to do it without making her feel more threatened. “My bite won‟t change you into what I am.” He tried taking her hand. “Stay away from me.” She jumped back. The torn dress slipped farther down her arm. His gaze shot to the creamy swell of flesh holding the garment up. Obviously, his stare alerted her to what he had on his mind. She tugged the cloth up and held it in place with her hand over her breast. Her silence was unexpected, but better than screaming. She shuffled backward, moving around the furniture, distancing herself from him. Once again, the chair came between them. As if she knew his thoughts or remembered how he‟d bounded over it before, she slowly moved until the sofa was between them. He studied the shift of her gaze. He needed to read her body language to anticipate where she‟d go next. She didn‟t understand, but soon she would. Nothing would get in his way of having her.

151

Chapter Twenty Randi inched along the back of the sofa toward the fireplace. Scared witless by what she saw, she tried understanding why she was still attracted to J.R. He‟d changed into a freak of nature—a Neanderthal man. Yet, the memories of wild sex combined with a primitive version of J.R. captivated her. “What are you?” she asked, hoping for an adequate explanation. She was prepared to accept anything within reason—illusion, magic trick, something in the water she drank. “I‟m a Lycan,” he repeated. “Doesn‟t that mean werewolf?” she asked again. “History and lack of knowledge has led humans to distort the facts about the Lycanthrope species,” he answered. “We take on wolf-like characteristics in our natural state. Evolution has given us more control over which form we use every day and the ability to change at will. Most times.” “Most times?” she asked, feeling he held something back. He moved closer toward her, the chair no longer in his way. She backed up and bumped into the log rack on the hearth. J.R. took advantage of her distraction and walked around the sofa. Nothing stood between them. He came even closer. Petrified, she slunk back. “You‟ve got to be cold in those wet clothes. I‟ll make a fire while you go change,” he said, reaching for the cast iron match holder mounted on the wall. She crossed the room, confused. The moment seemed so normal. Had he given her permission to leave the room? She stood at the opening of the hallway watching him, engrossed as he bent 152

Brenda Williamson down and stuffed crumpled paper into the fireplace grate. Against the stone face of the chimney, he struck the match. He used the poker to adjust the burning paper under the kindling he tossed on the grate. The sight of him naked always made her so inexplicably warm inside. Sometimes she attested to it to her horniness. It didn‟t make sense now after she had seen him physically change into an animal. Yet she still had that desire to feel his hands raking over her body. When he turned his head in her direction, she darted into the hallway, hurried to her room, shut the door and locked it. “Now what?” She rushed to the tall standing cabinet and flipped through the clothing. Get away. She‟d put on clean, dry clothes and run down the mountain to the city. “Damn it.” She looked at her reflection in the mirror, a pure panicked expression. The dirt road she‟d driven up had to be at least twenty miles long. Even if she managed to go a straight path, she‟d never make it that far without falling down from exhaustion. Then there was the wolf she‟d encountered. She‟d heard the howls. He wasn‟t the only one in the forest. And J.R., primitive in appearance, animalistic in nature. He hadn‟t come upon her by accident. She should have questioned him from the start about their chance meeting. She stripped off her clothes. She bypassed the luxury of a bath and used a rag to wash up at the sink. The soreness on her shoulder stopped her. She looked at J.R.‟s bite mark on her skin. She left the bathroom and went to the tall cabinet. On the inside of the door, behind the robe hanging on a hook, hung a mirror. She turned around and looked at her back. Light red scratches and small welts striped her skin up near her shoulders and around her buttocks. She caressed the cheeks of her ass and then her hips. It 153

A Wicked Wolf brought back memories of J.R.‟s zealous passion. She enjoyed his roughness, the possessive way he fucked her. He said he did that as a Lycan. How did she reconcile his appearance with the man she thought he was in the dark? She grabbed another dress from the cabinet and slipped it on. Her thoughts of sex with an untamed beast of a man lured her to the bedroom door. She unlocked it. There was no hiding from him or the answers to her questions. She looked back at the window, her escape from the house—from J.R. Then she eased the door open and walked back to the den. In his pants again, he stood in front of the fireplace, turning to let the heat dry the denim. The sudden clap of thunder made her squeak in surprise. He looked at her, tension in his stance, uneasiness in his stare. What did he have to be nervous about? He wasn‟t afraid of storms. He wasn‟t the one trying to adjust to a bizarre twist in reality. “Maybe I can help with a little history.” His eyes held guarded hope. He wanted to please her, and it showed. She nodded her willingness to listen. “For hundreds of years, Lycans have lived on this mountain. We are shape shifters—creatures that can alter our bodies from a human appearance to the primitive form that is a cross between human and wolf.” “Werewolves,” she muttered her earlier reference. “If you‟d like to call us that for the moment, all right. Except we don‟t attack others or turn them into us.” “And can silver bullets kill you?” J.R.‟s brow jerked up in surprise. Did he not think she would wonder how to protect herself? “Any bullet can kill a Lycan. We are not invincible with superpowers, Randi. We‟re animals, and we are as vulnerable as humans.” 154

Brenda Williamson “Humans can‟t alter their appearance. I‟d say what you do it pretty damn close to being a superpower. Can you change into anything else?” “In full regression, we can become wolves in form.” “I‟ve had sex with a wolf?” she asked in shock. “Lycan. There‟s a difference.” He walked to her. “We don‟t have much in common with pure wolves. We can‟t communicate with them on more than a basic level. As for mating, we can only do that with another Lycan or a human. It prevents crossbreeding with a true wolf. But our instincts are primitive and we do take mates for life like wolves. A female in heat is hard for us to ignore.” “Doesn‟t sound much different than any man I‟ve met,” she said sarcastically, hating the way she was drawn to him. “Randi.” He cupped her face and rubbed his thumb over her lips. “I‟ve never desired anyone with the same compelling need I have for you.” “I have that affect on a lot of men,” she replied softly, afraid of what he might do next, concerned by how she wanted him. “Show me how you change.” “Not now. I have enough trouble with restraint in my human form.” “Yes, now. I want you to change into this animal, this Lycan you say you are.” “That‟s not wise.” His hands dropped to her shoulders. “The power of your scent is already hard to ignore. I‟m doing everything I can to keep myself from ripping off your clothes again and ravishing your body with my lust.” She recalled that moment before when they came in the house when he changed—when he came at her, tearing her clothing and telling her he needed her. Her fear of him then was real. But so was the titillating thrill of letting him do what he had been doing to her for days. The decadence of their lovemaking had hit heights she‟d never known with a normal man. 155

A Wicked Wolf “And I‟m telling you to do it.” She couldn‟t believe she said it after seeing his altered state. But after the uncertainties she harbored for her safety, she still wanted him. He shook his head. “You don‟t know what you‟re asking.” Randi gulped. Now or never, do or die. “I‟m asking you to rip off my clothes and ravish me with your lust.” J.R. sat back, his eyes darkened from brown to black to gold. His body contorted as his chest expanded, his fingers lengthened, his fingernails curled and thickened into points. Additional hair sprouted in a fine layer over his torso, his arms and his hands. Her mind flashed to the night in the kitchen. The furry thing chafing her skin had been him. The muscles in his arms enlarged, and his pants seams ripped as his thighs grew larger too. The skin narrowed around his forehead and widened along his jaw so that his unshaven skin grew scruffier. She was relieved to see he didn‟t have a dog‟s muzzle or a black snout. His nose and mouth stayed much the same except for the fang teeth protruding between his closed lips. His hands lifted toward her. She looked at his fingers, gnarled with claws. They slid over her arms toward her shoulder. A chill raced through her, then heat, as he stroked her neck. She closed her eyes and turned her head, tipping it back as his nails raked her skin. He gripped her chin and said in an abrasive voice, “Open your eyes.” She shook her head, unable to resolve her feelings about him. She didn‟t want him to look so different, but she wanted sex. He tightened his hold, squeezing her ribs so she breathed heavier to ride out the pressure. “Don‟t resist,” he warned in a harsher, gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine. He let go with one hand, and she heard him unzip his pants. “J.R., I‟m—” the word scared stuck in her throat as he pulled 156

Brenda Williamson her forward. His thick cock wedged against her belly. She felt it growing longer, throbbing harder, creating an ache deep in her loins. She took a breath. He had her aroused. An intense desire to feel him thrusting in and out of her kept her from resisting. She slid her hands over his chest, through the mat of hair. His nipples were the same, small and tight, as if they hid from her inspection. She caught them between her fingers, squeezing them with her knuckles. Turning her hand over, she rolled her fingertips over the bumps. Short tweaks produced an odd sound from him, almost a growl. He leaned close for a second. “It‟s still me,” he rasped next to her ear. She opened her eyes and looked into his. Golden, glowing, dangerous. His stare hypnotized her. She brushed his lips, stopping at the sharp tip of a fang. He opened his mouth, showing her all his teeth. His hands moved down her sides. He drew the dress up, raking his clawed fingers over her buttocks, over her hips and up to her waist. She trembled, still fearful. He tugged the dress higher. She lifted her arms and let him remove it. Then he pulled her to him. He backed to the sofa and tried to turn her. Instead, she pushed him to sit. Snarling, he dropped onto the cushion. The sound startled her, prevented her from moving. He seized her hand and dragged her onto his lap. She shifted and straddled his legs. “I‟m not going to fight.” She touched his cheek soothingly, stroking the thick hair that spread farther over his face than most beards. She tilted her head, aligned her mouth with his, and kissed him. Then drew back and looked at him. “We‟ve never been face to face. Are you able?” He maneuvered her to the side, lowering her to the sofa. His 157

A Wicked Wolf sharp nails scratched her waist. He swept her leg away from the other, kneeling between her knees. She stared at him, nervous about his feral appearance. He lowered his head and attacked her breasts with licks and kisses, slurping, sucking, and then moving to her neck. She stroked the back of his head, surprised his hair there was the same soft locks as before he changed. He nuzzled her body, sniffing and licking, but kept his head down, avoiding her gaze. “Look at me,” she said. But he resisted her pull at his face. “I don‟t want to scare you,” he said, his raspy voice caressing her ear. “How?” His cock aligned with the opening of her vagina. “By reminding you what I am.” He pushed into her. “That doesn‟t matter now.” She groaned, feeling him withdraw and thrust his enormous cock deeper. She studied his expression as he fucked her. Tension built with lines around his eyes. His rhythmic grunts blended with hers each time he came down on her, driving her into the sofa cushions. As if she weren‟t already on edge from having a man-beast aggressively humping her, she had the storm and the occasional howl of a wolf keeping her apprehensive.

158

Chapter Twenty One Nick hooked Randi‟s leg in the crook of his arm, lifting it aside, giving him more space to flex his hips and drive his cock into her tightness. Her insides convulsed against his shaft. Below the thin layer of skin, his vessels swelled, expanding his cock to withstand the pressure of her orgasm clenching tight. “Oh God, this explains so much.” She bucked under him. “Don‟t stop.” Her fingers dug into his sides. He bit into her shoulder for control. Her whine wasn‟t enough to stop him from lunging harder, driving his knot past the opening, grinding in beyond the muscle trying to push him out. The wet warmth of her orgasm bathed his cock, stimulating the underside of his shaft. His sac drew up, as if someone had tried to push his testicles into his body. Seminal fluid surged out of him. Thunder boomed, rattling the windows. Lightning flashed, streaking light across the room. At the sight of her in the throes of rapture, he threw his head back and let out a triumphant howl. Her stuttering cry of release blended harmoniously with his roar of jubilation. Lycans around the mountain carried his message so all knew of his claiming. Randi Brown belonged to him. Early in their marriage, Maddie had said it was embarrassing to have everyone know what they did. Still, she grew to accept, anticipate, and even beg him to make love to her any time, especially when they were outside. Randi stared at him, panting hard, every so often heaving a deep breath. She touched his face, running her fingers over his upper lip. Her insides twitched, contracting tight and releasing. 159

A Wicked Wolf The involuntary spasm, coupled with her low moan, almost pushed him out, but he jolted forward, forcing his cock deeper, shooting another spurt of semen into her. He felt her hands sliding around, examining him, the texture of his hair-covered torso. She stroked his hip, massaging the aching joint. Then she reached farther and patted his hind end. His knot shrank, dislodging him from her constricting vagina, freeing him to pick her up in his arms. She circled her arms around his neck and laid her head down. Holding her close primed his molecules for a smoother metamorphosis, and his body reverted as he carried her to the bedroom. “I liked that you didn‟t have me turn over.” She rubbed her hand over his chest. “This time felt more personal, intimate.” Nick kissed her. Her confessed affection calmed the Lycan part of him. All that remained was to tell her his real name, and of course that his nature compelled him to increase the Lycan breed. She might be carrying the next shape-shifting Wolfe heir. “You‟re all right with this?” He lowered her to the bed, hovering with one knee on the mattress, and resting on one hand. “I can go if you want to be alone.” “I don‟t want you to leave.” Her cool fingers slid over his face and combed through his hair. “Is it like that every time? Do you always change to have sex?” “No.” He caressed her breasts, her belly and between her legs. He stroked the inside of her thighs while they kissed. The crescendo of the storm thundered around them. Randi showed no fear. Her hands and arms swept around him, pulling him onto her. She spread her legs and he positioned himself between them. Anxious to make love to her without shifting, he drove into her already liquid center. He thrust hard, making her feel each penetration until she released a string of guttural sounds as primitive and feral as any Lycan‟s howl. Her cry rivaled the 160

Brenda Williamson thunder. He pulled back, almost completely free, and then sandwiching her between the mattress and his weight, rammed her with all his strength. Fluid streamed out of his pulsating cock, filling her, spilling out of her when nothing more would fit. He shuddered, gathering her to him with a profound happiness he hadn‟t had in ages. He lifted his head from her shoulder and kissed her. “I want to know you, J.R.” She voiced her desire in a sultry whisper, pushing him to roll onto his back. “Every detail, from who you are to what you become.” “I‟m yours,” he announced, proud and excited by her growing acceptance of him. “You have an amazing body, so powerfully built, as if you were a weightlifter. How do you maintain it?” “It‟s natural.” “No. You have to do something besides chop firewood and make chandeliers. I‟d say you only pretend to stay up here, yet once a week you drive to the city and work out in a gym.” Nick smiled. “All Lycan‟s are genetically endowed with more muscle. We need the strength of body as well as mind when we change forms.” “Show me again. I want to look at you as a Lycan.” She stroked his abdomen, petting him in all the right places. Sated by his recent releases, he had to concentrate. He didn‟t have the uncontrollable urge forcing the Lycan out. “Show me,” she whispered, bending over him and licking away the wetness of their juices covering his cock. “Ah.” The sound gurgled in his throat. His shaft pulsed, expanding as he transformed. Randi never paused from kissing its length, dragging her tongue up and down the sensitized ridge. He felt her petting the hair around the base, venturing to the softer fibers on his belly. 161

A Wicked Wolf “Take me in your mouth,” he demanded, anxious to feel her lips gliding down his erection. “Patience.” Her voice had a low seductive growl. “I have none when it comes to wanting you.” He brushed her hair back so he could see her sucking his cock. The sight of her aggressive mouth working feverishly to arouse his Lycan body heated his insides. Sure, he wanted to thrust deep and spew his hot juice into her throat. He loved watching her pleasure him. “You‟re so big, so thick and long.” She fingered his knot, massaging it until the jolt of his body sent a small shot of fluid up the shaft. Her lips sank over the head and slurped away what remained of his eruption. He opened his legs, feeling her sucking lips travel along the perimeter, down to the knot. “This is so unique,” she hummed, sucking on the bulging skin stretched over his swelling sheath. Where her fingers had once massaged, her tongue now rubbed and her lips nibbled. Nick arched, raising his hips from the mattress, exposing more of his sexual organ to her wandering kisses. The heat of her breath feathered his scrotum, sweeping along the split of his ass so the aperture tightened. Unable to maintain the closed position, the gap winked open to the flicker of her tongue. His loins clenched from her brief touch. He balled fistfuls of the bedding to stop himself from grabbing her by the head and forcing her to do something she might not be willing to do—something no one had done to him since his first sexual encounter. He couldn‟t remember the experienced bitch who‟d taken his virginity long ago. But he vividly recalled the sensations she had caused by licking more than his balls. “Ah, yes,” he growled, drawing back his legs, giving Randi all the room she needed. 162

Brenda Williamson Afraid he‟d scare her with his gravelly voice, he clenched his teeth and turned his head to the side. His sharp fangs pinched into his lower lip, pricking the surface. He‟d take the pain any day to experience the sweetest form of pleasure. Randi‟s tongue rimmed his anus with slow swirls. Each time she backed away, he thought she was done, but she returned, provoking the fissure with teases of air from her nostrils. His cock slapped his abdomen in a wicked frenzy, thrashing about in a wild search for a cunt. Only he couldn‟t give up his position, especially when she gave him what he longed to feel—her tongue licking feverishly at his convulsing bottom. His whole body tensed, fighting the renewed need to hump her. The long run of her tongue from the gap to the crown of his throbbing penis was all the stimulation he could handle. He thrust into the air and met her open mouth. With her lips brushing his shaft, she let him fuck into her throat. Its muscles locked against his bone-hard erection as she swallowed, drinking his expelling essence with an eager hum. For the first time in his life, he‟d had his ass licked by someone he cared about. The highly personal, intensely stimulating wolf trait of a Lycan was nothing he‟d ever ask a human woman to do. Not even Maddie had taken the initiative in giving him such special pleasure. During the climax, Nick reverted into human form. After the last shudder, he pushed Randi back and sat up. He claimed her mouth with his appreciation and tongued the inside, cleaning away the sexual flavor of himself. He gathered her in his arms. “You were amazing.” “Is that all I get? A compliment?” “More.” He took a quick path down her damp front while maneuvering himself into a position that gave him access to her delicious bottom. “I‟ll show you my appreciation.” He lifted her legs and looked at the dark pink center of her cunt. 163

A Wicked Wolf His cock jerked at the sight. He had another mission. He hooked her legs over his arms and pushed her up higher, spreading her ass cheeks open. Within seconds, he had her giggling from his light licking. She quieted to serious moaning when he drove through the opening and tongued her anus. Her wild bucking signaled her full throes of an intense orgasm. Never giving her pause to think, he maneuvered down on the mattress and thrust his cock into her cunt, coating himself in her fluids. Pulling back, he dropped free. Then he pressed his cock head against her anus and worked it into the snug opening inch by inch. Halfway in, he withdrew. He shifted onto a knee, using one foot for leverage, and rammed all the way into her. She let out a strangled cry. He froze. “No, don‟t stop,” she moaned, clutching at his hips. Satisfied he hadn‟t hurt her, he forced her legs back over her body and continued humping her tight ass, slamming her hard. Randi‟s whimpering grunts escalated into a high-pitched wail. The wolves responded as usual. One howl in particular made the fine hair on his neck rise. It was close, too near the house. He glanced at the window, letting go of Randi‟s legs. He didn‟t see anyone, but felt watched. He inhaled for a scent, but Randi‟s was too powerful to let another past. Her pores, steeped in pheromone-enriched sweat, coaxed him back to the sex. Tense from the vulnerability, he took longer to ejaculate. She seemed to notice. Her coos of encouragement blended with some highly erotic and powerfully explicit language. “That‟s it, baby. Fuck my tight ass.” Her hands moved to her chest and she played with her nipples. “Hammer me with that big cock. Make me feel you.” The dirty talk worked. Her total lack of inhibition made him hot.

164

Brenda Williamson “Yes,” she cried. “Oh, yes. Harder, J.R., it feels so good.” He panted, watching her face as he lunged repeatedly. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her features wrinkled on the brink of ecstasy. It did feel good. Better than he‟d ever known. “Fill me, baby. Pump my ass full.” Her buttocks clenched on him and that did the trick. Streams of fluid shot out until he collapsed in exhaustion between her legs. He slid his fingers over her face, enjoying the comfort of her arms sweeping around him. Embedded in her as a man, he knew her heat had passed. Sadly, she‟d reached the end of her breeding cycle. The Lycan wouldn‟t emerge again unless he brought about the transformation on his own. “How was that?” he asked. “Tiring.” She inhaled deeply and let it out with an exaggerated sigh. “Just tiring?” “Fishing for compliments? You hardly say a word throughout, and now you want praise?” Her laughter blanketed him with joy and pushed him out of her bottom. He went to the bathroom and washed up. Bringing a wet cloth back to the bed, he washed her too. Then for hours, they talked. Nothing serious or revealing, just trivial conversation that brought them closer. When he made love to her again, he was able to hold back his release and give her a long, intense orgasm. In appreciation, she rocked the walls with crooning wails of rapture. The female‟s enthralling cries of acceptance were the sealing bonds of mating. For Randi, it might be a sign she‟d had great sex. In the minds of his breed, she‟d chosen her mate.

165

Chapter Twenty Two Randi stretched out on the chaise lounge on the porch deck off J.R.‟s bedroom. The sun felt wonderful after the two-day rainstorm had imprisoned them indoors. He was an incredible lover but an exhausting one. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the peaceful moment. With a clear mind, she recalled her reasons for being there, A million dollar deal, siblings to support, a career. She needed to get back on track. “I brought you something to eat.” J.R. said, bringing her out of her quiet reverie. She opened her eyes to see him holding a plate with a steak swimming in bloody red juice. “What, no eggs for breakfast?” She sat up, ignoring the hungry way he eyed her naked. “I can go out and find some.” “Give me that plate before I starve.” She reached up, feeling a need to eat before he pounced. His sexual needs were insatiable and apparently liberating now that he had shared his secret. She thought back to their first encounters. The dark kitchen. The first time in his bed. The stump in the yard. Each time he made it impossible for her to see him as a Lycan. “And what about these?” He brought his other hand out from behind his back. She looked at the small bowl. “Where did you get gooseberries?” She plucked one from the handful he had picked and tossed it in her mouth. “They‟re around if you know where to look. I didn‟t find too 166

Brenda Williamson many fully ripe yet. It‟s early,” he said, beaming with pride. Ah, the noble hunter, foraging and providing sustenance for his woman. How sexy was that? Unfortunately, it wasn‟t a thought she should explore. She had to get back to the reason she came here. J.R. had to feel comfortable with giving her more information now. “Tell me about Mr. Wolfe,” she said. “There‟s not much to say. He likes his privacy.” “So you keep telling me.” She frowned with disappointment. After several day of hot sex, he still wasn‟t opening up about his boss. “What about this mountain with people like you? Is he a Lycan?” “Yes.” “Is that why his wife is buried here?” She put another piece of meat in her mouth. “Yes.” “You get awfully quiet when I mention him. Are you worried he won‟t like that I‟m here?” Her next bite of meat was too large to eat all at once and she ripped it with her teeth. “Is he your. . . um, you know, like a king of Lycans?” Juice from the meat dribbled down her chin and fell to her chest. She sat the plate on the table next to the chaise. “There is no ruler,” he answered, bending down over her and licking the bloody liquid from her chin. “We live independent lives, having a say over our own destiny. We follow the same rules as any civilization. However, because of who we are and how we live, we can‟t interact with them in the same manner you can. Wolfe Mountain is our haven, a sanctuary where the laws of this country don‟t affect us.” “No laws?” She spread her legs as he knelt between them. “The land is private, the census unrecorded, and the location is remote enough to keep people away.” He bowed his head and licked the juice from her chest. 167

A Wicked Wolf “That‟s why Mr. Wolfe will never sell,” she said, realizing she had nothing to offer a wealthy man with a purpose. “Now you know.” He kissed her. And then he was in her, thrusting fast. She let out a groan as his weight pinned her to the chaise. The length of his body tensed. She felt his shoulders hunch, his back become an inflexible plane of stiffened muscle, and his buttocks contract under her fingertips. “Change for me. Transform while you‟re in me.” She scrubbed her palms against his back. Soon she felt the muscles flexing, growing, hardening. With that, she sensed the intensity of his need for her. She liked feeling she had the power to give him what he required. An overwhelming orgasm surged through her. She clutched at his brawny frame. His climax met hers and his cry of satisfaction roared out of him like an animal. Between each jarring shake of his body, he howled with a ferocious discharge that left him gasping for air. She trembled beneath the heaviness of his powerful body, enthralled by her intense climax and mesmerized by the pure animalistic nature of the beast. She felt extremely emotional. In love. While her amazement hung on his record number of erections and sexual performances, what did he feel? A Lycan was no ordinary man. Everything he said had made him out to be a creature motivated by instinct. Was sex all he desired from her? Finally, he rose off her. His body shifted back to that of a man as his strong arms pushed him up. He put a foot to the deck to stand. She glanced down at his cock, dripping with their comingled fluids. The sight aroused her. Maybe she only wanted him for sex, too. He walked to a rain barrel and scooped out water with the small bowl she had eaten the gooseberries from. The primitive scene of him washing with a rag kept her spellbound. When he finished, he 168

Brenda Williamson came to her and bathed between her legs. She moaned when his finger left the rag and brushed her sensitive clit. His gaze lifted to her. Not that she didn‟t enjoy sex as much as he apparently did, she just didn‟t have his stamina. “I‟ll finish.” She took the rag. He gave her a look of understanding and walked away. She studied his backside as he bent forward, his hands against the railing. The deck wasn‟t more than four feet from the ground and she wondered what he looked at below. “Is there something there?” she asked. “Just checking on Marshall,” he answered. “He‟s pacing below, acting agitated. I think he‟s jealous. He knows what we‟ve been doing.” J.R.‟s lean sinewy frame turned, and she smiled at the amazing frontal view. It would be impossible to imagine him in Lycan form if she hadn‟t seen his transformation. Every part of him had expanded, widened, grown stronger with his primitive manifestation. She saw how the thought of sex aroused him. Amazed that he‟d trusted her with his vulnerability, she watched the supple vastness of his muscles ripple under his taut skin, and the hard throbbing urgency of his cock sway as he came toward her. But his comment about Marshall bothered her. In a strange way, it reminded her how thoughtless she had been. Her brother and sister were home alone. As teenagers, they could take care of themselves, but it was irresponsible of her to spend days away without calling and letting them know she was all right. And work. She‟d left on a Friday. Were they concerned she hadn‟t been to the office in days? Not that it was her fault that Wolfe Mountain lacked communication and her car and cell phone were out of commission. “You know, I‟d never tell anyone about you or the others.” She told him, wishing she could forget about the outside world. 169

A Wicked Wolf “Who‟d believe you if you did?” he replied coldly. He looked back at her and grinned, but it didn‟t erase the seriousness in his tone. “I need to go home. How do I get down the mountain?” “Your car won‟t get you back to town. I checked it last night, and it‟s got a flat.” “There‟s a spare in the trunk.” “It had two flat tires.” He hesitated as if he didn‟t want to help with her problem. “You can take my car.” “How will you get it back? Maybe you can drive me,” she said, hoping to keep her affair going with him. “You can leave it at the rental place. When I get yours fixed, I‟ll return it and get mine.” Randi shivered and rubbed a hand over her arm. The hot summer day couldn‟t keep her from feeling the chill in J.R.‟s voice. He wasn‟t looking at her either, as if to declare their affair was over. “I‟ll go get ready.” She sat the plate aside. He nodded, turning away. She watched him lean his forearms on the railing and stare out at the forest. If this were a business deal she wanted, she‟d know what to do. To tell him how she felt, assure him she wanted to come back. However, this was the personal side of life, and she was never good at navigating her emotions or anyone else‟s. When he didn‟t look her way, she quietly went inside to her room. After she dressed, she went to the den where J.R. waited, fully dressed and exceedingly handsome. “Ready?” He opened the door for her. She moved forward. Outside, he led her to a lean-to she hadn‟t noticed behind the shed and flipped a tarp off an old pickup truck. He opened the 170

Brenda Williamson door for her. “Get in and start it.” She slid behind the wheel and turned the key. Nothing happened. “I‟ve not started it in a while.” He lifted the hood. “Try again.” She did and got the same results. An ominous feeling crept up on her. For all of J.R.‟s talk of how he couldn‟t let her go, it seemed strangely out of place for him to help. He seemed too anxious for her to leave, and it made her think this was an act, pretending to help, but really not. “I‟ll go get the battery out of your rental,” he said. Instantly, she felt foolish for distrusting him and dismissed her irrational thought as her final residual fear of him. “How will you get to the city if you do that?” she asked, not wanting to put anything in his way of visiting her there. “It‟ll take time, but I can charge this one.” He unhooked the cable and lifted it out, setting it on a small workbench. She wanted to say she could wait, stay another day, learn more about what he was, but he appeared anxious for her to leave. “Wait in the house.” He prodded her in that direction with a hand to her back. “I‟ll try not to take too long.” She took several steps, stopped, and watched him cross the yard. His long strides turned into a hurried gait. She wondered if he‟d change into a wolf. He hadn‟t shown her that part of his transformation. It wasn‟t something she wanted to think about, and once she got home, she‟d probably go on to think she imaged the whole thing. With him gone, she started for the house, stopping when she saw the black wolf from the woods between her and the porch. She glanced to her right, hoping to see J.R, not that he could make the trek to her car and back in less than a minute. He could still be close enough to hear her scream. She stayed silent, worried any sound from her might break the animal‟s mesmerized stance. She calculated how far she‟d have to run to get back to the 171

A Wicked Wolf truck, then judged whether she could make it without tripping or falling. Slowly, she glided back, a step at a time. The wolf slunk forward, advancing on her. J.R. had said Lycans weren‟t dangerous. It was hard to trust that now. “What do you want?” she asked, hoping to coax this one into changing into a man or even a Lycan so it could answer. It kept coming. Unlike her encounter with the wolf at the creek, the birds didn‟t stop chirping. Were they a cheering section for the wolf? Or were they agitated by the disturbance in nature? And was this a Lycan or an ordinary wolf? Time passed with neither of them moving more than a few inches. Then Randi spun and ran for the driver‟s side of the truck. The wolf‟s paws pounded the ground behind her. They doubled in rhythm, as if several large animals charged at once. She grabbed the truck‟s door handle and struggled to yank it open. Diving in, she closed herself in what she hoped was a safe place. Outside, a snarling fight raged. Dust stirred into a cloud over two animals, making it hard for her to make out one from the other. They tore into each other ferociously. Fur flew. When the vicious sounds of destruction abruptly stopped with a yelp, one animal laid the loser on the ground, winded and in jeopardy. Unable to leave him, terrified it might be J.R., she got out of the truck and picked up a shovel. She ran toward the winning wolf. “Get out of here!” she yelled, swinging as she raced toward the dangerous animal. Before her eyes, he rose on his hind legs. His body contorted, expanded, deflated, and within seconds, she recognized Mr. Wolfe‟s lawyer, Allen Woodall. She knew him from his dealings with her ex-boyfriend, Duane, who‟d negotiated another real 172

Brenda Williamson estate closing for the absentee recluse. “You‟re one of them?” She kept the shovel up as a defense. Who else in her world was a Lycan? J.R. made it sound as if no one left the mountain. Obviously, that wasn‟t true. Woodall left. Wolfe left. She thought of her ex and all the hair he had on his legs. No. If Duane were a Lycan, she‟d have known. The man couldn‟t hide something that unique for long. “You should have stuck to your plan to get Wolfe to sell his mountain.” Allen took a few steps toward her. “Why would you want that?” She looked at the animal on the ground, dismayed to see Marshall. “Money,” Allen answered. “But what about the others that live here? This land is a home for those unable to live in a human society. The Lycans need this place.” She parroted J.R.‟s words, but wasn‟t sure why they couldn‟t adjust as Woodall apparently had. “I do it. They can.” “Not everything is easy for all people,” she reasoned. “Many minorities don‟t adapt well when introduced to new surroundings. And I can see how Lycans would have added problems. They‟d like freaks in a carnival‟s sideshow.” “How noble of you, Ms. Brown. Unfortunately, you can see I‟m not as gracious. Times are tough for everyone. I look out for myself and no one else.” “What is it you want from me?” She contemplated her options. There was the truck, but how long would it keep her safe from a lunatic? It didn‟t run. “You‟re interfering with my plans. I always get rid of my problems. Maddie thought like you, worrying over every creature she didn‟t know. I thought I‟d brought her around to my way of thinking when we started our affair. “You had an affair with Mrs. Wolfe?” “She was beautiful, engaging and zealous. Once Wolfe tamed 173

A Wicked Wolf her, she was an easy fuck. Nick doesn‟t know that most women who accept Lycans have shallow morals when it comes to their pleasure. Once I seduced her, I had the obedient bitch believing everything I told her. Naturally, she had concerns about the other Lycans, so I promised I‟d find a better location for them.” “I was told she was murdered.” “She complicated things, catching me unaware at the height of the full moon. Her sexual urges were nothing compared to mine. If Wolfe hadn‟t been away on business, she wouldn‟t have come to my apartment, forcing me to mate her. After that, she had to be mine—body and soul. Or die.” “You loved her?” “Lycans don‟t love. They mate on impulse because of a scent. They stay together out of necessity. The male has less stress when he knows his bitch is there for him to breed.” She thought of the things J.R. told her. Was that what he wanted from her, too? “I told Maddie to divorce Nick. She said she couldn‟t, said she loved him. But I was obsessed with her. I threatened to tell him about her other affairs, her sexual trysts with a few rambunctious young Lycans. Convinced it would destroy Nick, she agreed, but she wanted time. I made her stay on the mountain so he‟d be away from her more. Unable to handle his scent on her, I demanded she take another bedroom in the house as her own and ordered her to keep him out.” “If you had so much control by blackmailing her, why didn‟t you make her leave him?” “I was going to.” He shook his head, as if remembering sad details about her. “You don‟t know how painful it is to long for an unattainable female. I went to the house one day to make my demands clear. Faint howls came from inside. I thought Nick had come home early from a trip. It made me sick to think of him humping the female I wanted. Nevertheless, I snuck up to 174

Brenda Williamson Maddie‟s bedroom window. I felt even more rage when I saw her with a young Lycan defiling her naked body with his scent.” “Defiling?” Randi gulped. “His semen dripped from between her spread legs, and she lay there begging him for more. I could have killed him on the spot, but she was the problem, the one who needed punishing. The young Lycan was only doing what came natural.” “What did you do?” “Bided my time.” He grinned. “I watched her ripe breasts jiggle as Benji mounted and ravaged her sweet insides for hours.” Randi recalled the riot of internal responses J.R. caused in her during sex. The flaring pressure of his erection buried deep, his hard pounding thrusts hitting all the right spots. She didn‟t take much effort to imagine herself begging J.R. He oozed sex appeal. “And then you killed her.” She tightened her grip on the shovel handle, wishing she had dove back in the truck. “The old man told me her husband did it, but it was you.” “At first, it was anger that fueled my plan. If I couldn‟t have her complete loyalty, no one was going to get the pleasure of her body. I watched and waited until the other Lycan left. Then Maddie went into her bathroom. I knew she went to wash, and if she used the fragrant bubble bath I bought her, there would be no scent left of her lover.” “The pink soap.” Randi realized why J.R. didn‟t let her bath in anything except water. “I found her filling the tub. She hadn‟t yet reached the soap when I entered. I can still see the terror on her face when I caught her. What do you suppose her first words were?” Randi shrugged, dreading to hear, but morbidly curious. “‟Please, don‟t tell Nick. I can explain,‟” he replied, imitating the voice of a woman terrified. Randi didn‟t want to hear more, but had no choice. Allen‟s confession was distracting him from killing her until J.R. 175

A Wicked Wolf returned. “I dragged her to the open window I‟d climbed in and pushed her out. She fell on the ground, begging me not to tell Nick. Her pitiful pleas threw me into a blind rage. All I remember as I forced her into the forest was hearing her cry over and over how she‟d do anything, go anywhere with me as long as Nick never knew. Laughable what a woman will cling to when her life‟s at stake.” “How did you. . . . If she said she‟d go with you, why did you kill her?” “That was an accident. We got to the creek, and I couldn‟t take the smell of the young Lycan‟s scent on her. I struck her in the face for making me a fool. She fell backward, tumbled down the slope, and ended lying face down in the creek. By the time I pulled her out, she was unconscious. Several gashes in her head from bouncing over the rocky ground spilled a profuse amount of blood. I racked my brain what to do.” Allen‟s arm moved, and Randi got an unwelcome glimpse of his growing erection. His memories were exciting him. His darkening stare reminded her of the way J.R. looked before they had sex. Fear coiled through her. Allen was going to rape her before he killed her if she didn‟t do something to stop him. “She was a mess,” he continued, mesmerized by his story. “When I picked her up, she woke. Blood bubbled out of her mouth. I dropped her to the ground and watch her last breath expel. I left her there, battered and bruised, and ran. It wasn‟t until I got back to my home in the city that I began to worry about my scent on her. When Nick found her, would he detect it? I stayed locked in my apartment for a week before I got a call informing me that Maddie was found murdered and her husband executed the Lycan that did it.” “An innocent Lycan.” She gasped. J.R. had confessed to being one of Maddie‟s lovers. Mr. Wolfe could have killed him, too. “Yes. Too bad, so sad for Benji. He wasn‟t so innocent, though, 176

Brenda Williamson when you remember he was fornicating with another Lycan‟s bitch.” Allen stroked his cock. “And you were in the clear.” The shovel got heavier the longer she held it up. “Completely.” Allen grinned. “Nick, the cuckolded fool, never suspected his wife was servicing a dozen or more Lycans.” “I don‟t understand. If her only concern was that her husband not find out, why would she betray him?” “Endorphins. Nick pumped so much of his Lycan seed into her, hoping to get her pregnant, she overdosed on the stuff. Not that it was a problem early in their marriage. He was around to feed her sexual cravings. Later, though, when the honeymoon phase was over and he took long business trips, she was left desperately wanting.” “And you took advantage.” “The withdrawals she suffered produced pheromones making her too hard to resist. When I first pulled her into my arms and kissed her, she resisted. By the time I forced her to the ground, ripped her clothes off and cleaned her with my tongue, she was panting with demands for me to fuck her. Nick had only been gone three days. I‟m sure you can imagine what she was like months later with a dozen Lycans dosing her so she was on a constant high of endorphins.” “I don‟t know anything about that.” “No?” He laughed. “How long have you been here? Three, four days? Don‟t tell me after all the sex you‟ve been having, you aren‟t always thinking of the next time. I‟ve been watching, waiting until you can‟t resist. Tell me, are your nipples hard, eager to have anyone sucking on them? What about your cunt? Is it twitching yet, dripping from the build-up of orgasms? If you put down the shovel, I can satisfy those desires.” “Stay away from me.” She lifted the shovel from her shoulder. “What I feel is for one person only.” 177

A Wicked Wolf “Maddie had that strength of character until weeks had passed and she had to do without a fix for her addiction. Unfortunately, I can‟t give you the same time. I‟m a weak Lycan. I can see history repeating. If I‟m forced to watch your explicit encounters any longer, I might get trapped into wanting you to the point of obsession. That‟s not good for business.” Allen stepped closer, his body bulking up, teeth lengthening, and hair sprouting. She backed away toward the truck. “Wait. Aren‟t you worried what will happen to you? J.R. went to get a battery from my rental car. He‟ll be back. If you… If you rape and kill me, he‟ll know it was you, won‟t he, by your scent?” She grasped at ways to derail his plan. “I won‟t leave him your body. You‟re a visitor here, not worth an investigation. He‟ll think you left another way. For that matter, I‟ll stop around tomorrow and tell him how I gave you a lift.” What argument did she have? J.R. knew she wanted to leave. Mr. Wolfe wouldn‟t even know she‟d been here. Stripped of all hope, she whirled and ran for the truck. A growl from Allen warned he changed from Lycan back to wolf. Speed and agility were on his side. Her only chance was to get in the truck, lock the doors, and hope J.R. showed up soon. Allen gained ground. She whipped the shovel around and threw it at him to slow him down. Maddie lost her life at his hands. She‟d not become his next victim without a fight. She reached the truck and got in. The wolf lunged at her, crashed against the door window and shattered the glass. In seconds, the wolf shifted back into a man. He grabbed at her. She flung herself across the seat to the opposite side. Her back pressed against the door, she watched the door open. Fear ripped through her as she stared at Allen‟s evil grin.

178

Chapter Twenty Three Nick reached for the branch, pushing it away as if he could see the scent his senses were picking up. The fine hairs on the back of his neck lifted as he recognized the familiar smell of the sire of his wife‟s killer. He studied the area and spotted the old man Randi had told him she‟d seen. It wasn‟t hard to figure out that Micah told her about Maddie‟s grave. Nick had killed the old Lycan‟s son, Benji, for murdering his wife. It was natural for the man to want revenge. Micah stood behind a thicket of briars as if hiding, but not trying very hard to do so. “You aren‟t supposed to be this close to the house,” Nick said, folding his arms, showing no fear of the man. “I assume you were the one that upset the woman at my place.” “Will you kill her too?” Micah scowled. “I didn‟t kill Maddie. Your son did.” “Blaming my pup, Benji, for your wife‟s death won‟t hide your guilt forever. There‟s plenty that knows he was in love with her. If you hadn‟t left her alone up here so much, she wouldn‟t have been cavorting with so many others. Barely twenty-three, Benji didn‟t have the experience to keep his hands off the woman. You know some women can‟t handle the aphrodisiac scent of a male Lycan. Killing her for betraying her mate is one thing. Holding Benji responsible so no one knows you found them together is an injustice. I can‟t prove what you did, but you‟ll have to kill me to stop me from warning your new mate what she‟s in for if she gets a hankering‟ for another Lycan when you‟re away.” He waved a photograph at him. “Once I show her this, she‟ll understand the 179

A Wicked Wolf danger she‟s in, being human.” Nick shook his head, exasperated by the old man‟s stubbornness. “Micah, the boy was wrong. The elders agreed with me. His scent was all over Maddie‟s room and her. Benji raped and killed my wife. There was no affair.” Nick moved cautiously, not wanting to provoke a physical fight with the old man. Age didn‟t matter when is came to Alpha males. Micah was still a strong Lycan. But Nick had no reason to tangle with him. “Randi won‟t believe anything you tell her.” “Once I show her this, she might.” Micah said for the second time. “What is that?” He snatched the photograph out of Micah‟s hand. “See for yourself.” Micah snarled. “Two years after you murdered my son, my wife was finally cleared out some of his belongings to give to his sister‟s children. His camera had pictures on it.” Nick looked at the photo, and his heart lurched. “Maddie.” He knew it wasn‟t a mistake that he‟d smelled Benji‟s scent at his house. It made him sick to think about that day he‟d came home. Maddie‟s bed had reeked of the young Lycan‟s territorial marking. In the same way a male marked his territory, Benji practiced the old and outdated form of courtship. He crudely sprayed Maddie with his urine. Nick studied the photo. It showed her somewhere in the forest. She was engaged in a threesome with Benji and another young Lycan he didn‟t know. Her sultry expression and her splayed legs suggested she was a willing participant. Then it struck him. Who had taken the photos? There had to be a third Lycan. How many more had looked on or joined in on the orgy? “Who made this for you?” Nick demanded. “This can‟t be Maddie. I‟d have noticed the scent of anyone touching her.” 180

Brenda Williamson “Apparently not. According to Garth, that‟s the other fellow with your wife. He said he questioned having sex with her, afraid you‟d find out. She told him she had some special, strong perfumed soap that masked the scent of others. He didn‟t believe her, but she proved it to him and his friends.” Nick remembered the pink perfumed bubble baths she frequently took after she moved into her own bedroom. Once, and sometimes twice a day, she‟d bathe, spending hours in her private bathroom. Thinking back, he recalled the baths often came after she took long walks alone or after sex with him. Had he been that blinded by love, not to see, even suspect what she was doing? He felt ill, not for what Maddie had done, but for his failure. “I didn‟t kill Maddie, and you say Benji didn‟t.” Nick hated to think he had been wrong. “If that‟s true, someone set us both up.” Throughout his upbringing, his aunt and the elders had schooled him about Lycan life. They‟d warned him about the changes in his body, and the urges he would experience. He‟d learned how to control his wanton lust by sequestering himself away from females during the full moon until he was ready to take a mate. When he‟d met Maddie, they hadn‟t tried to dissuade him from taking a human as a life companion but had reiterated the differences between her and Lycan females. “Who gave her the soap? How did she prove it worked?” He knew it did and always hated that it removed his scent from her. Micah looked at him suspiciously. “Come on man. Prove your son wasn‟t the one that killed Maddie, if that‟s what you believe.” Begrudgingly, Micah reached into his pocket and took out a handful of photos. Nick tried not to look as the man shuffled through them. Benji and his friends fucked anything on two legs or four that crossed into their territory—Lycan imperative, true, but at its worst. 181

A Wicked Wolf “She told him when and where they could see her with this man.” He handed him the photo. Nick crumpled the photo in his hand, devastated. He had executed the wrong Lycan for the wrong crime. While their laws let him do so to an adulterer coveting his mate, he wouldn‟t have killed Benji. Maddie was at fault, too. But no one more than he for not seeing her increased sexual drive as a sign of trouble. He thought of Randi alone at the house, and a chill ran through him. Without a word to the old man, he ran back up the hill, shedding his clothes until he was free to transform into a complete wolf. His heart beat too slowly for the fast change and it hurt. Pain shot through his limbs as the muscles stretched rapidly expanding his body to Lycan form and then shrinking back down into that of a wolf. He ignored the sting in his legs as he raced through the forest in a direct route for home. Stones and sticks bruised the pads of his paws as he bypassed care for speed. He stopped in the yard and stared at the house. Silence greeted him. As he turned back into a Lycan, tall and wide, a flashback to the day he came home to find Maddie gone made his heart wrench with dread. Marshall lying in the dirt confirmed his worse fears— someone had taken Randi. And from the photo Micah had, Nick already suspected who it was wreaking havoc on his life. After he changed from Lycan to man, he knelt down and touched Marshall‟s bloody neck, checking the seriousness of the wound. The dog let out a weak yelp. “You‟ll be all right, boy.” Nick petted his body, looking for more injuries and found none. None of Marshall‟s wounds appeared serious. The thick ruff of fur on his neck protected him from the deep lacerations a wolf bite could make. Other than that, he suspected heavy bruising and exhaustion. Marshall let out a simpering cry of despair. “It‟s not your fault. I‟ll find her.” He got up. “You stay here and 182

Brenda Williamson rest.” He understood Marshall‟s true pain. The dog had taken a liking to Randi and he was upset he hadn‟t protected her. Inside the house he called out, “Randi!” He closed his eyes, concentrated, and sniffed. Her scent was strong and sensual as ever, overpowering any other smell. He had to check the rooms one by one to know for sure she wasn‟t there. Then he shifted into a Lycan again at normal speed, conserving strength for the change into his least used form as the wolf. There wasn‟t any pain as before when he‟d transformed too fast. His molecular structure had time to alter and reconvene in sync with his heart rate. The only time it hurt him to make the transformations was when he rushed or he resisted if nature insisted. He went outside and saw Marshall gone. Nick worried the dog had gone to find Randi. Another confrontation with a wolf might kill him. He followed the paw prints toward the shed. The broken driver‟s door window of the truck unnerved him. He glanced inside. He caught the odor of blood but didn‟t see any until he looked harder. Then he found spots on shards of glass. Since there weren‟t many, he had to assume that Randi had cut herself getting out of the truck or when someone took her out. His heart sank at the thought of her in pain. He inspected the ground, circled the footprints in the dirt. Marshall, Randi, and Allen‟s tracks dappled the sandy soil. He saw them every day. Well, not Allen‟s, but he often came on business. He followed a set of widespread human footprints—Randi‟s, spaced as if she‟d stretched her legs in a run. His heart pounded furiously, pushing him to shift into a beast. He hardly took note of the transformation as he stalked the tracks. Anxious to find her, he pushed his snout to the ground. He sniffed out the direction and the culprit. 183

A Wicked Wolf He trotted along the trail marked by the familiar scents and the fresh footprints. The course veered off the path at times. Randi‟s imprints in the soil showed her confusion about which way she should go. He had to pause to check the markings, make sure he didn‟t lose direction, and then he glanced around and checked his bearings. Her path and her pursuer‟s crossed. She was managing to stay ahead or escape him. He couldn‟t tell which by the scrambled impressions of shoes and paws. It became obvious they‟d end up by the creek—by Maddie‟s grave. He‟d buried Maddie where he‟d found her dead. That image forever burned in his mind pushed him to run. Randi was in danger. Her fate would parallel Maddie‟s if he didn‟t get to her in time. He raced through the woods, dodging trees, leaping brambles, increasing his momentum. Not a stick or a thorn kept him from charging down the hill. A grunt of someone in pain brought out a burst of speed. He rushed toward the creek near Maddie‟s grave. A fear he‟d never known fired him with added strength. Randi was on the ground, bound and gagged, and kicking furiously at Allen who was ripping off her clothes. Her torn open blouse exposed her briar-scratched belly. The gag in her mouth muffled her protesting cries. He heard her frustration. His lungs constricted, making breathing difficult and his bark weak, but adrenaline shot through his body, pumping him with energy. Still in his wolf state, enraged with hate, he attacked. Randi scooted back as he leapt a fallen log. Allen began his transformation, reaching only the stage of Lycan before Nick landed. They tumbled to the ground, Nick on top. Because Allen had arms and hands, he had the advantage. He held Nick away. Stronger, Nick wrenched free. Allen fully shifted into a wolf as Nick tackled him again. But Allen got in the first bite. The excruciating pain of Allen‟s fangs digging into his shoulder infuriated Nick. He broke free and 184

Brenda Williamson lunged at Allen. He bit into the ruff of fur at Allen‟s neck, holding him with the strong clench of his jaw. Randi‟s muted sobs fueled his need to destroy the man. Allen thrashed wildly, unable to get loose. Not slackening his grip, Nick growled, warning his foe of the consequences. He didn‟t want to kill again. Not with the myriad of questions he had for Allen about his role in Maddie‟s affairs with Benji and his friends. Allen‟s paralyzed stance grew tiresome. The tension created an ache in Nick‟s jaw. All he needed was one short whine of submission, and he‟d let go. He heard Marshall snarling close by and hoped the dog wouldn‟t interfere. Then he heard Randi‟s sobs grow louder. He gave her his complete attention. Was she hurt? Had Allen raped her? He saw she held Marshall around waist, restraining him. Allen took advantage of his distraction and jerked free from Nick‟s grip. The fur and flesh tore, and blood oozed down Allen‟s foreleg. Allen spun around. He pounced on Nick and knocked him to the ground. His teeth sank into Nick‟s ear. In defense, Nick threw all his strength into bodily shoving Allen off him. He snapped onto Allen‟s throat and sunk his teeth deep into the tender hide, and hot blood gushed into his mouth. He‟d punctured an artery. Allen yelped in pain, and gave one hard exhale of warm air. Nick didn‟t release him until the last spasms of death jerked the man into complete stillness. Then Nick spit out the hide he‟d bitten into. He shoved the dead wolf aside and hurried to Randi. “Are you all right?” he groaned hoarsely during his transforming back into a Lycan and then into a man. He knelt down to her. She shied from his touch, cringing as if to hide behind Marshall. “I won‟t hurt you,” he said, untying the gag and removing it from her mouth. 185

A Wicked Wolf He used the rag to wipe the blood dripping from his lips and tossing it aside. Then he unhitched the electrical wire from his chandelier project that now bound her wrists behind her back. “Are you all right?” he asked again, cradling her face in his palms while searching her for injuries. “Don‟t touch me.” She shook her head out of his hold. “Tell me if Allen hurt you.” Saying Allen‟s name made her look in that direction. “I‟m going to pick you up. Okay?” The sooner he got her away from the sight of Allen with his throat torn open, the better she‟d be. Her hesitancy to trust him showed in her determination to avoid him. “I can get up on my own.” She slid back and rose to her feet. Nick squatted on his haunches. The fight had taken a lot of him. He hadn‟t exerted this much energy in a long time. Randi‟s rejection weakened him more. She‟d shown a remarkable acceptance of him as a Lycan, and then this had to happen. Seeing him turn into a wolf and kill was obviously more than she could tolerate. He felt defeated and at a loss. The sting in his ear still throbbed, and blood tricked down his neck. Marshall came up along side him, offering his form of empathy by licking his hand. Nick examined the dog, hoping that by showing his concern for his pet, he‟d make Randi less apprehensive of him. “He tried to save me from Allen,” she said, putting her hand on Marshall‟s back. “Allen hit him so hard, it knocked him unconscious. I though he was dead.” “He‟s a strong dog. He‟ll be all right.” He reached for her hand as she stroked the back of Marshall‟s head. She snatched it away. Her wary look devastated him. This act of violence had shattered Randi‟s trust in him. His mate didn‟t want 186

Brenda Williamson to have anything to do with him. It instantly angered him that he hadn‟t made Allen suffer more before ripping his throat out. She shuffled forward. “You‟re bleeding.” “I‟ll be fine,” he growled, upset he‟d have to let her go—let her leave him. “Let me look at it.” He eyed her guardedly. To have her afraid of him in the slightest was torture. She touched his head and brushed back his hair from his ear. “He was going to kill me.” Her voice shook. “And he was going to bury me in that grave.” “Why?” He looked back at Allen‟s human form. No answers there. “Were you coming on to him in any way?” “No!” She slapped his arm and stood. “Why would you ask me that?” Her quick outrage suggested she lied. He inhaled the scents around her to determine for himself if she‟d had sex with Allen. Nothing drifted his way. So what was she hiding, why was she more nervous than upset? He watched her fold her arms around herself to hold the blouse closed. “He was going to kill me because he was greedy,” she finally said. He sensed it was only half the truth. She squatted next to him again and examined his ear. “He thought I was going to interfere with the sale, or I should say, the non-sale of this mountain. Her gentleness soothed his frazzled nerves. Hope sprung anew as she brushed her fingers over his jaw, showing concern for him. “J.R., this looks bad. You need stitches.” He stood up, pulling her with him. “It‟ll heal all right,” he said, detesting the name she had for him, hating he had lied about his 187

A Wicked Wolf identity. “Let‟s go.” “What about him?” She glanced back to where Allen lay dead. “Shouldn‟t we contact the authorities?” “I‟ll take care of the body.” “He‟s Mr. Wolfe‟s lawyer. Won‟t he be missed? What will you say happened if anyone finds out? You won‟t get fired, will you?” “Forget everything that‟s happened here.” He tugged her by the arm and led her up the hill along the path. “What about Marshall?” She looked around and Marshall trotted up behind her. She put her hand on top his head as he walked along side her. Jealousy stabbed Nick when he saw her reach for comfort from his dog. Once they got back to the house, Marshall lay down on the porch while Nick ushered Randi inside. She balked at the doorway. “Let him in, too. He shouldn‟t be alone.” He gave a short whistle and motioned for Marshall to come in the house. The dog lived with him, naturally he‟d let Marshall inside. But Randi hadn‟t known that. Since her stay, he‟d left Marshall outside for his protection. Marshall‟s instincts to protect Randi could put him in danger if he tried to interfere with Nick‟s mating her just as he had been injured trying to stop Allen. A dog was no match for a Lycan or a wolf. “Thank you.” She stroked his arm and then knelt to Marshall. “You need a bath.” “You first.” Nick closed the door and guided her down the hallway. He filled her bathtub with water and a generous amount of pink bubble bath. She needed to be cleaned of all traces of Allen. He needed her cleaned. “I don‟t want that much.” She tried taking the bottle from him. 188

Brenda Williamson He didn‟t let go. Her brow furrowed. She looked at him, puzzled, and then her features softened. “It‟s used to wash off the scent of other Lycans, isn‟t it?” She undressed. “He didn‟t touch me like that, J.R. I didn‟t give him a chance.” “I know.” He gave her the bottle and backed toward the door. “I‟ll leave some clothes out on the bed. Once you‟re done in here, get dressed. I should be back by then with the battery. Then you can go home.”

189

Chapter Twenty Four Randi stood in the background of people at the Wolfe Industrial Complex‟s grand opening. It had been her one-time boyfriend Duane Richard‟s megabuck deal. He‟d negotiated the transaction through Mr. Wolfe‟s attorney, the same man who‟d tried to kill her on Wolfe Mountain. If not for J.R., she‟d be dead, all because the man had some crazy notion she had influence over a man she hadn‟t met. Two days ago, when she drove away from J.R., she hadn‟t realized how hard it would be to adjust to life without him. He‟d sent her home without a single hope that she would see him again. In ways she couldn‟t believe, she ached inside. At night, she fantasized about him. Even standing there, looking at the room of people, she thought about picking out some random guy to have sex with to ease the tension. But no one could live up to the powerful memories she had of J.R. It helped that Allen had explained that her heightened sexual urges weren‟t entirely of her doing. She hadn‟t wanted to come to the ribbon cutting. The last person she wanted to see was Mr. Wolfe. By now, he knew the details of her visit, no doubt, right down to her seduction of his handyman. Neither meeting the person nor having him know what she and J.R. had done together was as humiliating as knowing why she‟d started the affair. What would the man think of her as a businesswoman, using sex to her advantage? “Look at you, Randi.” Her boss, Phillip, startled her. “You can‟t hide in the shadows and avoid your target. I assigned you to secure that land deal between Mr. Wolfe and Jemco Developers. Duane 190

Brenda Williamson managed to get this place underway in no time at all. If you can‟t even get an appointment to see Wolfe, maybe this project is too big for you. Duane assures me he‟d have no problem securing the land.” “I‟m sorry, but Wolfe is an elusive man, and might I remind you, Duane never saw Mr. Wolfe either. He negotiated everything through a third party." She shivered, recalling Allen‟s menacing stare when he told her he planned to kill her. “I spent almost a week up on that mountain because that‟s where everybody said I‟d find Wolfe, and he wasn‟t there. Besides, the caretaker assures me Wolfe won‟t sell, and I believe him.” Tears welled along her lower eyelids. She wanted to cry each time a memory of J.R. came back. “We don‟t need some hillbilly handyman to give us real estate advice,” Phillip said. “Our goal is to make it happen. Mr. Wolfe is the one with the ultimate decision.” “I don‟t know where he is,” she snapped. Her heart longed for what she missed. J.R. remained lodged in her every thought. She didn‟t think after knowing him less than a week she‟d still be reeling from an overwhelming infatuation. “Wolfe‟s here and you should be talking to him now. He came in about five minutes ago, and you‟re supposed to have been on him like a fly on… Shoot.” Phillip looked over the shoulders of people near them. “Morton Veriday from Veriday Realty is talking to him this minute. You know he‟s dealt with them as well. Let‟s get over there and get in on that conversation. Veriday wouldn‟t dare discuss business in our presence.” He took Randi‟s arm and steered her through the crowd, giving her no choice. “Randi.” Duane grabbed her around the waist, tugging her out of Phillip‟s hold. “Isn‟t it a terrific party? I‟ve already met some fellows who want me to handle their residential development. They need land. Once you‟re done pussyfooting around with Wolfe, maybe I can have a go at him. I get along well with his 191

A Wicked Wolf shark of a lawyer.” “Wolf,” she muttered the correction without thinking. “Where? Do you see him?” Phillip said, leaving her with Duane. She had meant Allen was a wolf, not a shark, but that was lost on Duane and Phillip who had no idea what she knew about the lawyer. “Well, what do you think? Duane asked. “All I can say is good luck. I have a feeling, though, you won‟t be meeting up with the same lawyer,” she told Duane. “Why? What have you heard? What do you know?” “I only know I had a reliable source tell me Mr. Wolfe won‟t sell.” She thought about J.R. again and heaved a trouble sigh. “Everyone sells. I heard about Wolfe‟s handyman. How reliable can he be?” “Here she is Mr. Wolfe, Randi Brown,” Phillip introduced. Randi turned her head and her gaze met J.R.‟s familiar features. Bronzed by the sun, clean-shaven, and smiling, his face was a welcome sight. Her heart melted to see lust still in his eyes. “Miss Brown.” He took her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. “It‟s a pleasure.” “You can‟t be.” She stared at him in disbelief. “Actually, I can be, Randi.” He pulled her closer. “Nicholas Wolfe, Junior. J.R. I was named after my father, but you knew that.” “You lied to me, J.R.” “I withheld the truth. You can call me Nick.” “All that time you let me think—” She yanked her hand from his. “It was a game to you.” Nick gripped her elbow. “Excuse us.” He nodded to Phillip and Duane, leading her away from them. “Leave me alone,” she ordered, half wanting him to and half hoping he didn‟t give in to her empty demand. 192

Brenda Williamson His grip tightened. “We have to talk.” “Where are you taking me?” She considered balking, but she feared provoking the Lycan part of him. “Shall we dance?” He turned her into his body, and she put a hand on his shoulder. His arm circled her waist, cinching her tighter to him. “You slept with me, all the while lying about who you were.” “And you slept with me to gain information.” His caress swept up and down her back. I wasn‟t interested in selling my land, and I saw no reason to get into that debate.” “What about after you told me what you were? I think then you could have said, „Hey, and by the way, I‟m Nicholas Wolfe.‟” “You look lovely this evening.” He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “I missed you.” “Oh, I know all about a Lycan‟s obsession with females, so don‟t go spooning me any more of your feral charm.” She shivered, finding the excitement of his touch still running strongly through her. “Shhh, we don‟t want anyone to hear.” He rubbed her back. “Remember, I trust you with the secret.” “I‟m not going to tell anyone. Like you said at the house, who‟d believe me? I still have trouble believing it.” She smoothed her fingers over his lapel, not wanting to argue. “You appear as comfortable in this suit as you do in jeans and a t-shirt.” “I‟m not.” “You‟re good at hiding things. If you weren‟t going to sell the mountain, why did you let me stay?” She fingered his lower lip, recalling the time she‟d spent with him—the wildness and the tenderness. She wasn‟t a Lycan, but her passion for Nick went far beyond the physical. He pushed her hair aside and leaned toward her. “You were in heat, remember?” His whisper tickled the rim of her ear with warm air. “I couldn‟t resist you.” 193

A Wicked Wolf “Was it only physical?” She had to know. “For all of about five minutes.” He pulled his head back and smiled. “When did it change?” she asked, hope rising that he wasn‟t lying anymore. His grin widened. “When you thought I had a headache. Your care warmed a cold place in my heart. I wanted more than to make love to you then.” His words sent a shiver of exhilaration through her. Did she trust him?

194

Chapter Twenty Five Nick slid his hand down Randi‟s arm and caught her fingers. He led her through the crowd and into the foyer. It was hard letting her go for a minute, but he knew he had to give her some space to come to terms with all she knew—all that happened to her. “Where are we going?” she asked, clutching tight as if he might let go. “Out of the public eye so we can talk.” “You don‟t talk, J.R. You pounce.” She balked. “It‟s Nick, remember?” She gave him a hard look. “Oh, I know what your name is Mr. Nicholas Wolfe, Jr. I just wanted to remind you of the lies you told.” “I explained why.” “Mr. Wolfe,” someone called, ending his attempt to get her out of the crowded room. He glanced back at the man hurrying his way. “Mr. Wolfe, I‟m Duane Richards, a friend of Randi‟s.” The hair bristled on the back of Nick‟s neck when Richards put his hand on Randi‟s shoulder. Their connection had gone beyond friendship at one time. “Well actually, we were more than friends not too long ago and we worked. . . ” “Then you can understand how valuable her time is, so if you‟ll excuse us.” Typical of his alpha temperament, Nick pulled Randi away from the man. He immediately sensed how wrong his reaction was when Randi‟s grip tightened in his hand. What did she fear? His possessiveness? Or maybe his killer instincts? 195

A Wicked Wolf “If you‟re going to discuss the sale of your land,” Richards persisted. “Maybe I could sit in on the meeting.” Randi stroked Nick‟s arm, obviously nervous he‟d transform and go all beastie on her old boyfriend. He looked at her with a smile, letting her know that wasn‟t going to happen. “I‟m sorry, Mr. Richards, but all negotiations are exclusively between me and Randi.” Nick pulled her to the elevator. “What negotiations?” Randi whispered. Noting the man still followed, Nick said over his shoulder, “And I do mean alone.” That finally halted Richards. “You can‟t sell the mountain,” Randi declared adamantly. “What about the other Lycans? Where would they go? What would happen to them? They count on you to given them a haven against—” “The land deal wasn‟t the arrangement I wanted to negotiate.” The elevator doors slid shut, closing them in the small space. “Oh?” Her beautiful face turned up to him and he gazed into the sparkling gems she had for eyes. Tapping the stop button left them in limbo between floors. “One night with you bound me to you in more ways than I can count. I need you more than I‟ve needed anyone.” “You forget who you‟re lying to, Nick. I know about Maddie. She meant a lot to you.” “That was a long time ago.” He wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I‟ll always remember the best of times with her, but I‟m not blind to the fact that her love for me wasn‟t as strong as mine for her.” “You don‟t know me. How can you be sure I‟m not like her?” He brushed a hand alongside her head, lifting her face with a thumb beneath her chin. “I won‟t lie and say you‟re nothing like her, but there is a bonding between us now. That first night when 196

Brenda Williamson it was all about the sex to you, it was all about mating for me, tying my spirit to yours forever.” She turned her head out of his grip. “So, I‟m just a replacement.” “My soul mate.” He pulled her face around and ran his fingers over the rim of her ear, tucking in a few strands of her hair, and holding her head. Dragging her face close, he fit his mouth over hers and tasted a hint of the cocktail she must have drunk earlier. He savored the sweet flavor and let the ardor of her pleasant response erase his fears he‟d not get her into his life. “I have to go home now.” She pushed the elevator button, starting their descent to the lobby. “I‟ll take you.” “No. I can get there on my own.” The door opened and she bolted from the small space. “Randi, wait. Don‟t you want to discuss a deal?” “You can‟t sell the mountain, so why waste my time? I‟ll find another way to make the money I need.” “Need?” Nick grabbed her arm and turned her toward him. “Look, I have two teenage siblings to support. I needed this sale to get out of debt and out of a rut. I want to start my own real estate company and work toward improving, not only my poor existence, but my sister‟s and brother‟s too.” “I can help with that.” “Duane‟s already offered to share his next big deal. I‟ll work something out with him.” The man‟s apparent one-time claim on Randi made Nick‟s skin prickle with jealousy again. “You were nervous around him. I don‟t want him near you if he makes you uncomfortable.” “I was worried you‟d attack him if you heard him mention the affair I had with him. I saw you kill a man, Nick.” 197

A Wicked Wolf “I won‟t lie and say I like it that you‟ve been intimate with him. It doesn‟t mean I‟d kill him.” “Allen said you killed another Lycan for murdering your wife because you found his scent at the house. What am I to think?” “I was crazed with grief. It infuriated me when he easily said he was having an affair with her but wouldn‟t confess to killing her.” “Because he didn‟t.” “I know that now. His father had photos of him and his friends with Maddie. They opened my eyes to a lot I didn‟t know about her. I felt responsible at first, seeing pictures of her with those young Lycan males. She was never told the ramifications of having intercourse with a Lycan. The more she did it, the more the endorphins made her want more. Allen must have caught her when her body was at a critical low.” “He explained, Nick. She was having withdrawals. She couldn‟t help herself.” “If she‟d known, maybe she could have.” He swept his hand over her head. “Have you felt those same affects?” “Yes.” He let his mouth drop, and he frowned. “Yes, but when I look at other men, I don‟t want them. No one compares to you.” “It‟s only been a few days.” “I‟m not like her, Nick. I wouldn‟t give into temptation. You‟ve spoiled me.” “It‟s a chemical imbalance, not always under your control.” “Are you trying to scare me off?” “I want you to know everything. No more secrets, Randi. No more lies or omissions of information.” “I‟m sorry Maddie wasn‟t strong enough, but I am. Your heartbreak over her loss was never clearer than that first night when you uttered her name after we had sex. No one knows as well 198

Brenda Williamson as I do how much you loved her.” Nick wiped his hand over his face, at first to hide his pain, and then he put his hands on her shoulders. “I should have known something wasn‟t right with Maddie. I thought she‟d withdrawn emotionally because she couldn‟t conceive a child.” “She loved you, Nick. Allen said so himself. Her last thoughts before dying were to keep you from finding out what she‟d been doing.” “What else did Allen tell you?” “Every horrific detail. Allen convinced her that selling the mountain would be a good thing. He fed her lies about finding a utopia for the Lycans, something better than what you provided. He practically forced her to have sex with him the first time, but afterward, she couldn‟t get enough. He wanted her to divorce you, but she said no. When he caught her with someone else, he snapped in a jealous rage.” “Why didn‟t you tell me this before?” “When?” she asked, anger in her tone. “I was still trying to wrap my head around this supernatural being you change into and the fact you said you‟d never hurt me. Then you attack and kill Allen. I needed comforting and reassurance. But you didn‟t give me that. You couldn‟t hurry me out of your sight fast enough. Allen almost killed me, and all you could think to do was send me home. So you can see how I didn‟t have a chance to say anything to you, with me being frightened and upset and ushered off the mountain.” “I frighten you?” “Yes. No. I don‟t know, now that I‟m aware you are Nicholas Wolfe. And that it was you Allen talked about when he spoke of killing your wife‟s lover. That‟s a lot for me to digest. Especially the part about you acting judge, jury, and executioner of an innocent man.” “Not totally innocent,” he shot back. “That young Lycan and his friends took advantage of another Lycan‟s mate. Whether he killed 199

A Wicked Wolf her or not, I had every right to execute him. It‟s a crime punishable by death among my kind.” “I don‟t know if I can live with that sort of thinking. Morally, you were wrong.” Of course, she was right, so where did he go from there? How did he get his life back on track? What did he say to convince her there was more to him than being a beast? “I‟m bound to you, Randi.” “As part of your nature. What if I don‟t feel the same way?” He rubbed his hand along his clenched jaw. “Come back to the mountain with me.” “It won‟t work. I have family to take care of. My life isn‟t my own until they‟re eighteen, maybe longer if they need my support.” Randi‟s gaze dropped to the floor. “And I‟m still. . . . ” “Afraid?” “A little bit.” “Talk to me, Randi. What‟s really bothering you? It isn‟t because I‟m a Lycan, is it?” “Yes. No.” She wrung her hands together. “What if I go to work one day and in the course of shaking hands with a lot of male clients, I end up with too much of their scent on me. Will you flipout? Go berserk? Kill them? Kill me?” “Randi.” He grabbed her by the arms. “I told you I‟d never hurt you. Never. And it isn‟t the scent of someone‟s touch. It‟s their semen and their—” “Their what?” Did he dare tell her more? “Are you talking about pissing on me? “I don‟t believe in that practice,” he told her sharply. Even though there was a trace of that instinct in him, he‟d never acted on that urge. “How did you guess?” “Allen was very informative. He gave me blow-by-blow details 200

Brenda Williamson about what male Lycans do to females.” “Some are cruder than others. I swear, I‟m not like that, and if I‟d caught Maddie in the act of sex with Allen or Benji, I wouldn‟t have hurt her either. I couldn‟t have.” “I don‟t think you‟d hurt me like that, Nick.” “Is it how I look when I change? I can control that, except during the full moon. Those times I can go away.” “It‟s got nothing to do with what you are or how you look at certain times. Since we‟re being honest, once I was over the shock, I understood better what turned me on about you. You don‟t realize how sexy you are when you have an orgasm, so primitive and wild. I still tremble with excitement when I recall the way you howl with deep satisfaction when you climax.” “You‟ve explained away my looks, your concerns about what I‟d do to someone, so what is it that worries you?” “I don‟t have good luck with men. Things always get complicated. I want what I want, and the guy doesn‟t appreciate that I have goals. When I thought you were just the caretaker, I could pretend you‟d never interfere or demand more of me than to enjoy a physical relationship.” “I can‟t change my instincts.” “I see that. However, not all of you can possibly respond out of a natural reflex. You say I was in heat. I‟m guessing that‟s some natural attraction like a pair of dogs breeding, so it was physical. But you also used me. Out of grief for a woman you loved and lost, you chose me as her replacement.” Nick touched her and was surprised and elated she didn‟t flinch. He pulled her close, putting his arms around her. “With Lycans, a full moon brings out uncontrollable needs. I had a mate and she died. My feelings for you are no less because Maddie came before you. She‟s gone. The bond has faded, more than I thought possible. You‟re who I need, who I want, and who I love.” “For how long?” 201

A Wicked Wolf “Haven‟t you been listening? Forever, Randi.” He stroked the tense stiffness along her back. “Let me into your life. Give me the chance to show you how deep my feelings are for you.” “I don‟t know.” She looked up at him. “Before you say no, let me assure you, that your brother and sister are welcome to come live with us too. I can give them the kind of life you want for them, and I promise I‟ll give you whatever support you require for any endeavor you pursue.” “What are you saying?” She drew her head back. “You‟re not suggesting we get married?” “If I thought you‟d accept, I‟d ask. But no, I‟m inviting you and your family to come and live at my place on the mountain. For as long as you feel comfortable there. You won‟t be too far from the city and you can start your own real estate development company. I may not want to sell my mountain, but that‟s not to say I don‟t have many other parcels of prime land just waiting for a billiondollar deal. Allen made sure of that.” “My brother and sister can be obnoxious and irritating. You like solitude.” “I can handle them, and it‟s time I became more social. If I ignore human society, what example am I setting for the other Lycans?” “But my siblings aren‟t. . . . They‟re not normal like you and I.” Nick raised a brow. “You know what I mean.” She hit him lightly on the arm. “Yes.” He laughed. “I understand, but don‟t you think I have any skills at controlling people? I do have a successful business, and I always have bribery.” “Bribery, like you‟re using on me?” She worked her hand between them and rubbed the front of his trousers. “Uh-huh.” He kissed her lightly. “And what about food? They can‟t live on just meat.” 202

Brenda Williamson “I know. Fruits and vegetables. There is plenty of wild onions growing around the mountain.” “I wasn‟t talking about weeds, either.” “I know where to find mushrooms and blueberries, and hickory nuts too. I can pick you your fill of gooseberries. And I even know how to make a pie with them.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don‟t know that I‟d like it if you were too domesticated.” He kissed her. “I promise I won‟t be in bed.” “Speaking of which, can you control that other side of you? I can‟t have my brother and sister subjected to our sexual activities. You‟re a bit overzealous and extremely spontaneous.” “You can have your own room, and I promise to contain my urges until we‟re alone.” Randi pushed him back. “What about the others, the werewolves that roam the mountain? What happens when my seventeen-year-old sister comes into. . . as you say. . . heat?” “Except for the night of the full moon, she‟s in no more danger than with human males. Those nights we‟ll send her and your brother to my apartment here in the city.” “You‟ve thought this all through.” “A Lycan mates for life. Naturally, I can be as accommodating as possible to make you comfortable in your new surroundings. I can‟t break my bond with you. Yet something tells me, if I was only human, I‟d have these same feelings.” “What can I say? You‟ve offered me everything I‟ve ever wished for.” “Would that include having your own children?” he asked, easing into letting her know she really had no choice at this point. “Someday, I suppose.” “Then chances are good we can make it.” He smiled. “Are children that important?” 203

A Wicked Wolf “Let me repeat myself. I was initially attracted to you because of your heat cycle. We mated. The rest is left to nature.” He placed his hand on her midsection. “I‟m not pregnant, if that‟s what you‟re hoping for.” “I‟m pretty sure you are, sweetheart. I bred you multiple times.” The memory of those times made him hot and horny for her now. “You were trying to get me pregnant?” She gasped. “It‟s second nature to a Lycan to breed when he‟s mating under a full moon.” “Let‟s have an understanding right now, Nicholas Wolfe, Junior. If I agree to live with you, there will be no more secrets, no other surprises, and no more trying to get me pregnant. I take once-a-month birth contraceptive, and I‟ll keep taking it until I‟m ready to have a baby.” “I‟m fairly certain it‟s too late for that kind of decision,” he said, disappointed she didn‟t share his excitement to have a baby—a child they made together. She slid her arms around his neck. “Let‟s say that you‟re right. What does that do to our sex life? I don‟t want a room of my own.” Nick smiled, noticing the signs of decreased endorphins in Randi. She‟d be agreeable to anything as long as they were sexually active. That had been his mistake with Maddie, leaving her alone for long periods, making her suffer withdrawals without explaining to her what was happening. “I‟ve no argument there. It‟s settled then?” He pulled Randi into the elevator and tapped the button, restarting their ride. “One more thing.” She put her head on his shoulder. “What‟s that? He stroked her back, pacifying her need of him. “Can you not kill anyone else without discussing it with me first?” she asked. “I can‟t handle that kind of drama.” “There‟s nothing I‟d do to ruin the trust you have in me, Randi.” He squeezed her tight. “I love you.” 204

Brenda Williamson She looked up and touched his face. “I can‟t believe I‟ve fallen for you so quickly. Yet, how could I not? There are so many wonderfully qualities to like.” “And what are those?” He nuzzled her neck with kisses. “For one, the sex,” she sighed, relaxing in his embrace. “You‟re so damn good at it.” Nick laughed and swept her up off the floor into his arms. “I have a private suite on the top floor,” he murmured, nibbling her lips. “Good, take me there. I want to do sinful things to you.” She licked his cheek. Nick‟s heart swelled with anticipation. “I never expected when I started up your mountain I‟d find love.” Her breath teased his ear as she licked the rim. “You‟re everything I‟ve wanted in a man, a strong and handsome lover, and dangerously protective of me. I‟m wet between my thighs every time you look at me through your lust-filled eyes. I can‟t image my life without you, my passionate lover—my wicked wolf.”

205

About The Author Brenda Williamson, single with one son and a house full of cats. One would think she has a hobby to get away from the many hours of writing, but storytelling is her hobby and she works at it fulltime. You can connect with Brenda at http://www.BrendaWilliamson.com

Red Sage Publishing

The Leader in Women’s Erotic Romance Sensual fiction written for the adventurous woman. Featuring the best in women‟s ultra sensual and spicy fiction, satisfying your desire for more. Visit our website and discover delicious temptations and spicy fantasies!

www.eRedSage.com