They were both laughing when Armando stepped out on the deck and invited them inside. “We’re getting the buffet set up, so dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes.” He glanced at Jules and Meg. “Looks like we’re missing a couple.”

“I know. I wonder where Dar and Elle are?” Meg glanced toward the trails leading to their cabins just as Elle stepped out of the shadows. Darian was with her, and so was a huge, dark gray wolf walking between the two of them. He had distinctive black tips to his fur, which made him look as if he rippled when he walked.

Dar had a huge grin on her face, and Elle looked a bit shocked by her escort, but they waved as soon as they spotted Meg and the others. The wolf peeled off to the right and headed back toward the woods. Dar stopped to watch him go.

Laughing, Elle grabbed her hand and dragged her across the parking area and up the stairs.

“Is that cool or what?” Elle was too excited to sit, but she didn’t hesitate to take the margarita that Manny offered to her. “I was getting ready to walk down here when he just showed up in front of my cabin. I swear he’s the smartest animal I’ve ever seen, and when I asked him if everyone was already at the lodge, he led me to Dar’s cabin.” She glanced at Dar and rolled her eyes. “Because, obviously she wasn’t here.”

“I’m sorry. I took a shower and decided to lie down for a minute, only I went sound asleep.” Laughing, she added, “Guess I relaxed faster than I realized.”

“Come with me, ladies.” Armando had been waiting patiently, but now it was obviously time for them to get moving.

Elle glanced around, looking for Tuck, but there was no sign of him.

The guys had set up an amazing buffet with fresh-grilled trout and a vegetable dish, what looked like homemade bread, some kind of seasoned barbecued chicken that smelled wonderful, and a rice casserole that was absolutely irresistible.

“Save room.” Jules glanced at Armando as she carefully loaded her plate. “Manny said he’s made a choco late decadence for dessert.” All eyes went to Armando, who swept an imaginary hat from his head and bowed with a dramatic sweep. “We most definitely don’t want to miss that.”

“Advice noted.” Meg carefully added a few more things to her plate and walked back over to the table. She paused by the line, where the guys were now filling their plates.

“Gentlemen, I certainly hope you have some activities planned for tomorrow, because I really want to keep eating like this all week and still be able to fit into my clothes.”

Trak saluted. “We will definitely help you work off any calories you consume, dear Meg. Enjoy your meal.”

“Dear Meg?” Jules cocked an eyebrow at Meg as she took her seat.

She blushed. “It’s just the way he talks.” Meg looked directly at her. She wasn’t going to take the bait because she’d noticed the courtly mannerisms of all the men she’d actually interacted with. “In fact, have you notice the speech patterns of most of the men here? Almost as if they’re from another time. Old-fashioned, actually.”

“I like it.” Jules took a bite of her trout and groaned. “This is so good.” She chewed and swallowed and then scooted her chair aside for Evan, who was coming her way with his plate loaded. “Anyway, I’d forgotten how nice it was to have a man open doors and carry heavy things.” She added rice to her fork as Evan set his plate down on the table between her and Meg. “And cook,” she said. Meg thought her smile at Evan looked just a bit proprietary. “Can’t forget the fact these guys are great cooks.”

“And they take turns,” Elle added. “Drew told me that when they first opened up, the only one who could cook was a guy named Brad, who’s gone this week. He’s been teaching the rest of them.”

“That he has.” Lawz took a seat between Dar and Jules, who scooted their chairs over to make room. “I mean, we’re all bachelors, so we had some rudimentary skills.”

“Very rudimentary.” Trak took the spot at the head of the table, closest to Meg, which brought a searching glance from Dar, seated on his left. “I think Manny was our most advanced.”

“Yeah.” Drew pulled a chair from another table and stuck it between Evan and Elle. “Manny had progressed from boiling water for freeze-dried camping rations.”

“Hey, jerk. Give me a break.” Manny took the empty seat beside Jules. He turned to her and said, “I’m a forester, so I was out in the woods and roughing it most of the time.”

“You didn’t let me finish, Armando.” Drew drawled the man’s given name. “I was trying to say you had progressed from boiling water to using a microwave.”

“Don’t tell me you made your choco late decadence in a microwave!” Jules laughed, and Manny merely shook his head.

“No. I. Did. Not. Jules.” He carefully enunciated each word, sniffed, and gave her a look that reminded Meg of a deeply affronted master chef. “I followed a recipe. It required a stove, measuring, and many steps to ensure my exquisite creation.”

“That’s the thing.” Evan managed to get an extra chair in between Drew and Meg. “And for this we need to give Lawz some credit. The engineer among us discovered a cookbook, and his love of numbers and measurements superseded his fear of cooking not being a manly operation.”

“What?” Elle laughed. “Every woman knows there’s nothing sexier than a guy who cooks.” She paused and took a bite. “Well, unless it’s one who cleans the bathroom.” She glanced at the rest of the table and frowned.

Meg realized the huge man who’d walked Elle to her cabin hadn’t arrived yet. Before she could mention his absence, Elle’s face lit up, and she smiled.

“Tuck!” Her eyes actually sparkled, until Meg realized she was smiling right along with Elle and everyone else at the table as the missing man in question walked through the front door. “I wondered if you were going to join us for dinner.”

Tuck paused beside Elle, leaned over, and kissed her. Meg shared a secret grin with Dar. Obviously Tuck had done more than merely carry luggage.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. Had a trapped wolf cub that needed a rescue, and I need food. I’ll be right back.”

Tuck went after his dinner, and Elle grabbed a chair for him and stuck it at the foot of the table between her chair and Manny’s.

Tuck was back a minute later with a loaded plate. “I was getting ready to come back to the kitchen when I heard a pup whining near the creek. There was a little guy from that late litter”—he grinned at Manny—“who’d gotten himself wedged between a rock and a big branch. Mama couldn’t get him out, and his feet were in the water, so he was really chilled. I wrapped him in my vest, warmed him up, then stuck him back in the den with his two sisters. He is now his mama’s worry.”

The conversation flowed as if they’d all been friends for years. The guys all had wolf stories, some of them fun, a few that were sad, but it was obvious these were men who loved their lives here, loved the fact they were so close to nature.

Once dinner was over, Manny brought out his chocolate decadence, which was even better than he’d said it would be. He poured glasses of rich, dark red port wine to go with it.

Meg couldn’t help but think of Zach. He would be loving every minute, and she knew he would like all the guys. She really wished he was here with her. As she watched her best friends pairing off with the men they’d met when they arrived, she felt left out. She glanced at Trak. He was sitting back in his chair, watching the interactions much the same way she was.

It was a nice way to unwind after the long drive and wonderful meal, but then Trak glanced her way and smiled and nodded toward the front deck. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but she stood and reached for their plates.

“Not your job.” Trak stood and gathered everything up as if he’d cleared tables all his life and carried their dishes and utensils across the room. He left everything on the counter, took a detour behind the bar where he grabbed another bottle of the port and two glasses, and followed Meg outside to the deck.

Meg sat in a comfortable Adirondack chair, away from the light shining through the windows. Trak took the one next to her, poured a glass of wine, and handed it to her. Then he set a small tray with squares of dark chocolate on the wide arm of his chair. “This port goes great with chocolate.”

She took a sip. She’d had a little with Manny’s dessert. The wine was sweeter than she usually liked, but absolutely delicious, and Trak was right, it begged for choco late. She took a piece of the dark chocolate and let it melt on her tongue. “This is so good.” She smiled at him. “It’s very hard not to moan when you put those two together. Moaning is so terribly unladylike.”

Trak laughed. “Not always,” he said, “but you’re engaged, so I’m not going to go there.”

She blushed. “I wasn’t even thinking of that. I’m sorry. All the guys are with women who are here for a good time and whatever goes, and you’re stuck with the almost-married one.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re supposed to relax and enjoy the break, and it never hurts to get away from someone you love, even for just a short time. It reinforces the way you feel. Tells you that you’re taking the right step.”

“Or the wrong one.”

There was a long, telling silence. She didn’t believe she’d said that out loud. She couldn’t be that stupid, could she?

“Meg? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. Obviously, she was. Why did she make such an idiotic comment? She smiled at Trak. He really was a nice man and terribly sweet and good looking. And he looked honestly concerned about her. That was special, in its own way. She wondered why he was single, why no woman had snatched him up yet.

Not her business. “Just pre-wedding jitters.” She smiled, shrugged. Tried not to look like such a loser. “I really love Zach. My fiancé. He’s an amazing man.” She took another sip of her port. “So,” she said. “What are we going to do tomorrow?”

Lawz walked Dar back to her cabin. He wasn’t sure how to explain the effect she had on him, the almost all-consuming sensation that he wanted to hang on to her, wanted to tell her his secrets and beg her to stay. But rules were rules, no matter how much he wanted to break them.

Brad had made a strange comment one time, how they were always told that the fantasy of finding your one true mate was just that—a fantasy—but he wondered if that was wrong. Brad and Cain had known almost immediately that Cherry was the one for them. He’d said it was like the proverbial lightbulb went off overhead and he knew.

Because that’s sort of how Lawz was feeling about this alluring, dark-eyed, dark-skinned woman walking along the trail beside him, holding his hand, not talking about anything, but obviously appreciating the silence and sounds of the evening, maybe the possibility of what could come next.

But what might that be? He’d told her he wanted her, and he’d definitely stuck some condoms in his pocket—just in case—but what did Darian want? He wanted to know everything about her. What she did, her likes, her dislikes, what her childhood was like. How long she’d been friends with the others. He wanted to know what it was that made her so damned special, because she definitely stood out in this group of exceptional women.

Each was smart and funny and each attractive in her own way. After a summer filled with female guests, he certainly felt as if he had a better understanding of the fairer sex. They certainly weren’t anything like the women his mother’s age. Hell, his mom’s generation didn’t come into their own until they were changed. Women had so few rights when he was born, April 12, 1861—the day Fort Sumter in South Carolina fell and the War between the States began.

He and Trak had family members they never knew who died during that war, not because they fought, but because their pack alpha had decided they should live as wolves to escape the human carnage. The women, of course, weren’t able to shift if they had children, since natural-born werewolves didn’t start shifting until they were about thirty.

That left their women and children the most vulnerable among them. Some had been abandoned by their mates. Those bastards had been hunted down after the war, after an accounting of who among them still survived and how they’d dealt with the upheaval. There was no room for cowardice. The women who hadn’t purposefully chosen this life weren’t cowards. They were the tough ones, those women who stayed in human form to protect and raise their children. Those good men who stayed behind protected their families as best they could, but too many women and children died, and too many men died trying to save them.

A few joined and fought as humans, but not for the South. Werewolves never could understand the concept of slavery. Meeting Dar, one of the first African American women he’d had a chance to get to know, being attracted by her wit and intelligence as much as her beauty, Lawz couldn’t understand it, either. Of course, living such an insular life, the pack had met relatively few humans of different races over the course of their years. His years he’d spent in college getting his engineering degree had been the most time he’d ever spent around humans since he was a kid.

The tiny white lights that lined the pathway sparkled with the slight movement of the trees and shrubbery. There was a gentle breeze blowing, enough to add life to the lights and give the entire trail an ethereal quality lacking during daylight. His thoughts shifted to holding Darian, to tasting her mouth again. Tasting all of her. She was so responsive. He’d never had a woman climax in his arms before, merely from touching her breasts.

She was aroused even now, the rich scent that was distinctly hers leading him as if he were on a leash. Imagining what she’d be like when he entered her had an immediate effect on his dick. Damn, he hoped he had enough condoms, because if she was serious about what she’d said earlier, that she wanted to spend some time with him in a bed when neither of them felt rushed … damn. Just. Damn.

_____________

Awareness pulsed through Dar’s body, the sense that she and the man behind her were somehow connected on levels she couldn’t truly comprehend. But the connection was there, a pulsing, living thing. The trail had narrowed, and Lawz followed close behind her, close enough that she felt the heat from his body, imagined those strong arms wrapping around her, holding her close. She really hoped he’d brought condoms with him. She had a strict rule about sex with strangers; one-night stands were never her thing. But that was so weird about Lawz—she felt as if she’d known him for years.

All during dinner, they’d laughed. He’d say something, and she’d pick up on it immediately and turn it back to him, then he’d take off on another tangent, and one of his guys or one of her girls would pop in with a smart-ass comment, and off they’d go again.

She couldn’t remember laughing so hard. Or wanting so badly. She was glad she’d decided to wear jeans to dinner because the moment Lawz sat next to her, she became embarrassingly wet and so damned needy.

They rounded a bend in the trail, and there was her cabin. She’d left the porch light burning, and suddenly her hands were sweaty and she was practically shaking with either nerves or need. Probably need. When was the last time she’d had sex? Damn, she couldn’t remember. Her toys kept the edge off, but she’d had a long dry spell. Even sex with the living, breathing kind had been a huge disappointment. The fact that she couldn’t remember any details told her a lot—as in the fact that none of them had been memorable.

Dar went up the steps to the front deck. Lawz reached around her and opened the door. She stepped into the tiny cabin, wondering what was going to happen next. Would he pounce? Would he want to talk? What was Lawz really like when he knew he had an open invitation?

He waited at the threshold. She turned and looked at him. “Aren’t you coming in?”

He shook his head. “Only if you really want me to, Darian.” He was so tall that he easily grabbed the doorframe overhead with one hand and leaned toward her. “I don’t ever want you to feel as if you have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you want to wait to get to know me better, I’m okay with that.” He laughed, and at least his voice sounded strained. “Well, sort of okay. Point being, it’s your call entirely.”

She’d been wondering if he’d changed his mind. “I’m calling,” she said. She turned and walked into the cabin, slipping her cami top over her head as she went. She was bare under the shirt, and she figured he must approve when she turned around to face him, if that look of blind lust on his face meant anything.

Closing the door behind him, Lawz toed his moccasins off and walked across the small room. She backed up at the same speed, stopping when the backs of her thighs hit the bed.

He didn’t grab her, didn’t grope. No, he stood there for a moment just looking into her eyes and gently brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face. Then he slowly began to unbutton his shirt and pull it free from his jeans. He slid it back over his shoulders and dropped it on the floor.

Dar’s mouth went dry. He was truly magnificent, his body long and lean, his muscles impressive. She reached for him. There was no way in hell she couldn’t. He was just so … there were no words. Only feelings. Intense feelings, but when her palms flattened on his rounded pecs, when she stroked the taut lines of his muscular chest and then ran her hands down his sides, he tilted his head back and groaned.

Yeah. That said it for her, too.

She moved closer, lightly rubbing her taut nipples over his torso, shivering with the blatant sensuality of the move. She stroked his sides, found his waistband, and slipped her fingers beneath the button at the top of the fly. Flicked it open and then moved to the next one. She’d reached the final metal button when Lawz tipped her head up with a fingertip and laughed.

“I thought so,” he said, leaning close and kissing her quickly. “You’re smiling. What are you thinking, you minx?”

“Minx?” She raised her head and her eyebrows. “Sort of a dated reference, isn’t it?”

“I could call you a hussy, but that’s just as dated. Hell, I’m a country boy. We don’t get out much. No TV here in the back of beyond, but you’re redirecting rather than answering. I’ll ask again. Plain English. What are you thinking while you’re unbuttoning my pants, and why are you smiling?”

She tried not to laugh. Really, but that wasn’t going to happen. Once she got herself under control, she gave him a saucy grin. “Well, I’m thinking that I really want to see what’s behind the wrapper, to put it bluntly.” With that, she grabbed the waistband at either side of his hips, pulled his jeans down, and kept shoving until she reached his ankles and worked them over his long, narrow feet. The soft knit boxers he had on hid very little, and now that she was on her knees, she decided she didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

The glazed look in Lawson’s eyes told her he liked the way she looked, kneeling in front of him in her snug jeans, body bare from the waist up. His look had her feeling sexy and powerful at the same time.

She nuzzled the erection tenting the front of his shorts. He sucked in a quick breath, and his hips jerked forward. She slid her fingers beneath the fabric and up his legs in back, cupped his muscular ass in both hands and pulled him close to her mouth. Covering him with her lips, she breathed warm air over the cotton knit, teasing him. Then she tugged the shorts down and off. His erection was impressive, jutting forward from a mass of dark, wiry hair, his thick length flushed with blood.

She actually salivated, staring at him, at the way blood pulsed beneath the skin along his shaft and the taut cowl of his foreskin caught behind the broad mushroom head. A tiny drop of pre-come at the edge of his slit drew her like a beacon.

She used her tongue—the very tip—to lick it off, tasting him for the first time, the salty-sweet taste that was like nothing she’d ever had before. His hands rested on her skull, gently holding her, not forcing her at all as she leaned close and licked the tip again, then slowly wrapped her lips around him. His groan made her smile around her mouthful. She felt it where her lips clasped his shaft, heard it like a deep vibration of need that was so powerful he ached.

How could she know this? Know how he felt, what he needed? It was like a storm brewing, this unbreakable connection she felt with a man she’d met mere hours ago. She often knew things about people—it was a running joke among her friends, Darian’s super intuition. She knew right away if someone was lying, or if they were up to no good. The knowledge was just there. But this all-encompassing sense of knowing, of connecting with Lawz, was dizzying.

She drew on him, sucking him deep into her mouth, tasting the quintessential maleness of him, the flavors unique to Lawz and so pleasing to her. She couldn’t take him all the way at first, but she found herself holding his buttocks, pulling him forward, relaxing her throat muscles and swallowing him deep.

His entire body trembled. It felt like he was holding back, trying not to fuck her mouth, letting her control how deep he went, how far she pulled him in, how tight he grasped her skull. It was almost sweet how gentle he was, how he cared for her comfort. So she gave him everything … and more. And when she felt his muscles go rigid, when she knew he was about to come, she didn’t let him pull away but instead held him close.

This was a first. Going down on a man, letting him finish in her mouth, but with Lawson, it felt natural. Why did that knowledge confuse her even as it empowered her?

She smiled in her mind. It was crazy, but it felt right. And when he cried out her name, when she felt the power ful pulse along his shaft and she tasted his release and swallowed every drop, she was amazed at the joy she felt, the absolute sense that this man was hers, that she had claimed him with this single, simple act. On her knees, and yet stronger, more powerful than she’d ever been in her life.

He watched, transfixed by the almost mystical feeling that seemed to surround the two of them as she carefully took his last drops before setting him free, sat back on her heels, and actually licked her lips. His legs felt like rubber, but his dick was still hard. He’d come so hard he was lucky he didn’t pass out, but it wasn’t enough.

He had a feeling it would never be enough with Darian. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to her feet, and held her close, nuzzling her throat, nipping at the soft and obviously sensitive skin behind her ear.

Her arms were around his neck, and she plastered her long, lithe body against his, except he was naked and she was still wearing jeans.

Obviously a situation they needed to deal with. He said as much. “Aren’t you a bit overdressed?”

She raised her head and smiled at him. “I was sort of thinking the same thing. Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He couldn’t believe his hands were actually trembling when he flicked the snap at her waistband. It was difficult grasping the tiny zipper tab so he could actually pull the blasted thing down. Women’s clothes in this century looked hotter than hell, but damn, it was hard to get them off.

He wrapped his hands around Dar’s waist and picked her up. Then he laid her back down on the bed with her legs hanging over the edge, which made it much easier to slowly peel the tight, stretchy jeans down her long, long legs.

And wasn’t it a shame that her tiny little thong panties rolled partway down with her jeans, unfortunately stopping just above the juncture of her thighs. Somehow, it was even sexier this way, with them almost but not quite off. She reached for the waistband to push them down, but he stopped her. Instead, he placed the palm of his hand over the fabric covering her warm, damp center.

“Wait,” he said. He went to his knees and ran his hands up her sides. Stopped at the swell of her breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples. Her skin was soft—smooth and dark with the texture of silk. Her nipples were large and much darker than the rest of her, unlike anything he’d ever seen, and once again he realized how little he knew of the world outside, of women he didn’t understand, of the many kinds of beauty he’d never seen.

She took his breath.

He’d dated in college, but he was already shifting at that point, in the late 1980s when he’d gotten his engineering degree, and he was always afraid of their secret getting out. It was even harder now, with cell phones recording everything and governments able to do in-depth identity searches. Fingerprints alone could give them away. How did you explain a set of prints that matched prints from a guy the same age in the 1920s?

You didn’t. You just made sure there was no reason for the police to ever get hold of your prints. He leaned forward, prints forgotten as Dar writhed beneath his touch. She was so damned sensitive. He licked her nipple, and it tightened even further, the dark areola drawing close against the taut bud. Fascinating. He wrapped his lips around first one and then the other, moving back and forth, right, then left, then right again, sucking hard, using his tongue to apply pressure, molding her firm breasts in his hands.

He cupped them, held them close together so that he could slip from one to the other more easily. The scent of her arousal, an intoxicating musk that went straight to that primitive part of the male brain where there was absolutely no conscious process beyond want and take and now held him in thrall.

Still cupping her breasts, pinching her ruched nipples between thumbs and forefingers, he slipped down her body, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on her belly, her mons, the inner crease of her thigh. He grabbed the silky band of her thong at her left hip with his teeth and ripped, pulling the torn fabric down her right leg until it was out of the way.

He could have pulled them off gently, but that would have required letting go of her nipples. He wasn’t ready for that. Her nether lips were full and glistening, her body ripe. For him. Only for him. He dipped his head between her thighs and licked from her perineum to her clit, filling his mouth with her taste, her unique flavors.

He circled her clit with his tongue, pinching her nipples harder, stretching and twisting them until she cried out, “More!” and arched her back, lifting herself. He loved that she was gasping her arousal, pressing herself against his mouth, actually begging for more. He curled the tip of his tongue against her inner walls, stroked the entrance to her sheath, probing, tasting.

He knew she was close, but she needed more. He hated turning loose of her nipples, but he had to so he could grab a condom out of his pocket. He sheathed himself and moved over her, his feet on the floor, her body at the perfect height and angle for him.

She lay there, watching him, panting, eyes wide, lips parted. He separated the damp folds between her legs, stroked the engorged head of his dick between them until he was slick with her fluids. He was big and thick, and he worried about hurting her, but she watched him with a look of pure anticipation.

“Is this okay, Dar? Are you ready for me?”

A smile split her face. “Hell, yes. Now, Lawz. Okay?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Her legs came up, she wrapped them around his waist as he drove forward into her tight sheath.

“Yes!”

One word, hissed rather than spoken. Her eyes were closed, her body shivering as he filled her. She was so tight, holding him in a silky clasp that rippled along his length. Once he discovered how deep he could go, that yes, she could take all of him in pleasure, not pain, he dropped all restraint.

He thrust forward, plunged deep and hard—she wrapped her legs tighter, locked her heels at the small of his back, gave as much as she took.

He wasn’t going to come alone, though it took everything he had to hold on. Reaching down between them, he found her clit and swirled his thumb over the sensitive nub. She gasped and sucked in a deep breath and then another.

He was there, so close to the edge, so caught up in the most amazing sexual experience of his life when her body tightened, when he felt the powerful grasp of her inner muscles, the rhythmic clenching along the full length of his cock.

And just like that, so simple after all, she pulled him with her over the edge.