Chapter 9

TORMENTED BY EROTIC dreams in which she indulged in the most delicious of sins with Cooper, Grace came into her office the next day to find it filled with balloons and her workmates hanging around with huge grins on their faces.

The part of her that had been forced into rebellion in an effort to fight her family’s overprotectiveness thought she should be annoyed at the way Cooper was accelerating things, but she looked beyond that, to the core of who she was and knew she was charmed. This male, her wolf said, knew how to make his woman feel good.

The truth was, she didn’t need the reins of their courtship, wouldn’t be comfortable with them. And while it occasionally made her blush, she could deal with the pack’s good-natured and gentle teasing. Of course, Cooper had to keep ratcheting it up a notch—boxes of fine chocolates delivered to her home and office, an honest-to-God gorilla love-gram that had her entire crew in hysterics…and gifts far more private.

Like the exotic perfume he insisted on dabbing on her wrists himself after making her a home-cooked dinner, and the midnight blue silk sheets she found on her bed one day when she went home midmorning to pick up something she’d forgotten. Her breath caught, her fingers unable to resist touching the exquisite fabric, her mind supplying her with vivid images of what Cooper would look like sprawled on those sheets, all darkly bronzed skin and heavy muscle.

Her fingers curled into her palms, a needy whimper escaping her lips. Because in one area, Cooper wasn’t pushing, the skin privileges they shared limited to long, lazy kisses that had addicted both sides of her nature. She knew it was on purpose, that he was seducing her one small, luscious bite at a time, taking care not to set off her wolf’s survival instincts as he had that night in her bedroom, but she ached, sexual frustration a slow burning ember in her gut.

Until when Cooper tracked her down that afternoon, she said, “You’re driving me insane.”

He went motionless where he’d taken a seat in the access corridor beside her crouching form. “Want me to stop?”

No! “I…” And because he mattered, because she never wanted him to think he couldn’t be who he was with her, she found the courage to say, “I like it when you’re bad.”

He reached out to run his hand over her thigh and the embers glowed a deep, hot red. “You have no idea how much I enjoy corrupting you.” A squeeze. “It’s going to make me crazy to think of you lying on those sheets, your skin creamy, your curves bitable. I’ll have to stroke myself to sleep, and damn, it’ll be a pale substitute.”

His sexuality was so raw, so honest, far more earthy than her own…but she was starting to believe she might just be able to handle it. It aroused her to lush readiness when he talked that way—and he knew it. “I did,” she murmured, deciding to torment him in turn.

“What?”

Putting down the tool she’d been using, she went to her knees, placed one hand on his shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Stroke myself.” She’d been a mess of need by the time he’d walked her home the previous night.

His growl echoed over the stone walls. “Witch.”

She laughed, the sound soft, husky. He made her feel strong and wild and brave, her wolf daring to rub up against his own. She wanted, needed to take care of him in turn—it continued to frustrate her that he’d gone stubborn on her when it came to whatever it was that was putting increasing marks of strain on his face.

“Just tired from the late shifts. Don’t worry about it.”

She knew it was far more than that, but even a hint of confrontation on the issue made him shut down, and there was a point beyond which her wolf simply refused to push. It worried her on the innermost level, because their relationship could not survive if he wouldn’t share his problems—it would savage her to see him hurting without being able to do anything about it, make her feel useless rather than a partner.

Grace had no intention of permitting that to happen, and if confronting him about it wasn’t going to work, then she’d pet, adore, and persuade the truth from him. Submissives could be as relentlessly stubborn as any dominant—and this one was falling too hard for her man not to do everything in her power to rid the shadows that haunted him. “Vivienne told me there’s a fair not far from us,” she said. “Will you go with me?”

His eyes were ringed with a fine circle of yellow when he answered, and she knew the wolf was looking out at her. “If you promise to go necking with me afterward.”

The idea of necking with Cooper made the embers turn molten. Which was how she ended up walking hand in hand with him through the happy chaos of the fair that had set up about a half hour’s drive from the edge of den territory. He bought her cotton candy, and reminded of a childhood incident, she found herself telling him about her family, both the present and the past.

“I still miss my mama and papa,” she admitted. “I feel disloyal to Milena and James for it, but I think they understand.”

“Of course they do.” He hugged her to his side. “Just because your parents are gone doesn’t mean you’ll ever forget the way they loved you and how you loved them back.” Fingers playing with her hair.

“I didn’t understand for a long time that they were never coming back. When I did…I cried all night, until I made myself sick.” She reached up to link her hand with the one he had on her shoulder. “You understand.” He’d lost his parents, too, though not in the violence that had taken her own.

“Yes.” A rough agreement before he stole the last of her cotton candy and teased her into a smile, then led her to the dazzlingly lit up spokes of the old-fashioned Ferris wheel. “Having fun?” he asked as they slid into the gently swinging bench seat.

“Yes.” She snuggled into the heat of him after he pulled down the safety bar and their seat moved forward a spot. “Are you?”

“Yes, but I’m really waiting for the necking.” His fingers brushed over the delicate fabric of the fitted sunshine yellow cardigan she wore buttoned up over a white tank. “You’re cold.”

“A little. I should’ve brought a jacket.”

He held her closer as they slowly reached the top of the wheel, the view dazzling. Leaning down, he nuzzled a kiss above her ear. “Or we could make out right here, warm ourselves up.”

His caresses felt good. Possessive. Regardless of all else, Grace loved that about Cooper, loved that she didn’t have to wonder where she fit in his life. When he bit down on her lower lip, she bit back. His chest rumbled against her breasts. “Do that again.”

The low-voiced request made her blush—and tip her face up for another kiss. He gave her that, more, before running his lips over her jaw and down her throat. Grace was so used to his kisses that she forgot he’d never gone for her neck before. It shocked her when fear overwhelmed her in a brutal wave, her wolf telling her not to move, not to incite the predator who had his teeth so close to her carotid, her jugular.

He heard the rapid stutter of her heart, sensed her incipient panic, because he raised his head at once. “I’m not demanding submission.” It was an irritated growl. “When and if I ever do, it’ll be because we’re playing a bedroom game. Got it?”

Grace’s wolf quivered at the anger in his voice…but it was also aware of the protective way he continued to hold her. “How would you like it if an alpha wolf went for your throat?” she said instead of backing down.

Cooper smiled, slow and wide, because there’d been no fear in those words, only feminine outrage. If he had to make Grace mad to get her to forget the dominance imbalance between them, he’d frustrate, aggravate, and annoy her as much as possible. “I’d tell Hawke he wasn’t my type.”

A feminine snarl as the wheel began to sweep around at full speed.

Delighted, he tipped up her chin and nipped playfully at her nose. “God, I hope you make that sound when we’re naked.”

She nipped back. Hard.

“Ouch.” He rubbed his nose. “That wasn’t nice.”

Glaring at him, she tucked her head back against his chest. He allowed himself to grin, his wolf smug. Grace might not realize it, but they’d just taken one hell of a big step in their relationship. Pretty soon, he’d have his engineer snarling at him in bed while she raked her nails down his back.

Grumpy as she was with him, however, and given the failure of his earlier attempt, he wasn’t expecting her to remind him he’d promised to take her necking. Instantly aroused, he drove them deep into a secluded part of the forested territory around the den. “Come here,” he said once he’d brought the vehicle to a stop, his wolf in his voice.

Grace shivered and undid her safety belt, but instead of obeying his order, she slid back her door. “Outside.” A whisper.

It was cold out, and he didn’t like her being uncomfortable, but he had the sudden realization that his submissive lover was trying to set things up so she’d be far less likely to panic. Sliding back his own door, he walked out to meet her at the front of the car. Already, he could see nerves in her movements. Not giving her time to stew, he picked her up and perched her on the hood, moving to stand between her legs.

She gasped, went still, her hands on his shoulders. But then his sweet, sexy, incredibly strong Grace said, “Can I kiss your neck?”

He groaned. “Anytime.”

Angling her head, one hand cupping his nape, she brushed her lips shyly along the column in an intimacy he rarely allowed. The majority of dominants were choosy about who they permitted that particular caress. He knew that was why she’d asked. If she’d attempted to touch him there without permission, implicit or explicit, he might’ve reacted in anger—except of course, it was Grace. He would’ve done exactly what he was doing now and held her to him with a gentle grip in her hair.

Shuddering at the pleasure of feeling her tongue flick out to taste him, he let the wolf rumble in his chest, felt her arousal scent the air. “I want to lick you up,” he said, playing the fingers of his free hand over her hip. “Spread your thighs and suck and bite and taste until you come.”

A tremor rippled over Grace’s frame. “It wouldn’t take long.” The intimate whisper was a fist around his rigid erection.

Teeth grazed his throat an instant later.

“Grace.” He fisted his hand more tightly in her hair. “You owe me two now.”

He felt her thighs tense as she squeezed, hazy brown eyes meeting his for a blinding instant as she lifted her head from his neck…to lean back a little, arch her throat in an act of conscious trust that humbled him. Shuddering, he ran a finger down the slender column. “Such pretty skin, so easy to mark.” He stroked again. “Should I suck hard, Grace? Leave a bruise no one will mistake?”

She whimpered but didn’t change her position, and that sound, it wasn’t one of fear-drenched submission.

“I think you like that idea.” Leaning in, he flicked his tongue over her pulse, drawing the erotic musk of her into his lungs. “What if I did the same thing to these beautiful breasts, hmm?” A brush of his knuckles over one ripe mound. “Those particular marks would be for my eyes alone. I’d lick at each until it faded, suck another.”

Her arms rose, one going around his shoulder, the hand of the other on the back of his head. “Stop talking.”

The breathless command made his lips curve. “But you like it.” Her arousal spiked with every one of his words. “When I have you open and wet under me, I’ll make it a point to tell you—”

Her mouth closed over his. Groaning, he held her in place, devouring her lips, sucking on her tongue, drowning in the scent of her until she pushed at his shoulders. “Air,” she gasped.

Flattening his hands on the cold metal of the hood, he heaved out breath after breath, his head hanging low. He wanted another kiss, wasn’t sure he could control himself from going further. Not with her so aroused and soft around him. But he knew she wasn’t ready, wasn’t at the point where she’d trust him not only in front of her, but at her back. He wanted everything before he tumbled her into bed, because there was no way he was going to be able to resist fulfilling his fantasies about watching her move against him as he mounted her.

Warm fingers on his nape. “Why did you shave off most of your hair?”

“Don’t you like it?” His wolf stretched out.

“I didn’t say that.” She continued to stroke him. “You look good either way.”

He wasn’t a vain man, but he enjoyed being petted by Grace. “For convenience.”

“I like the way the bristles feel.” Her cheek rubbing against his temple. “Did you really get this scar”—a single finger trailing over his cheek—“from fighting a rabid bear?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I was young, a bit of an idiot.” A juvenile, he’d come upon the bear chasing two petrified young wolves. He’d thrown the pups onto a high branch and taken on the bear when it became clear the maddened animal wouldn’t allow itself to be led away from the children. “I managed to avoid getting bitten, but it clawed me. This wound and the one on my back didn’t heal right for some reason.”

“They only make you sexier.”

He arched his neck in a silent invitation, had the pleasure of feeling her suck hard enough to leave a mark. Possessive wolf.

“And,” she said, licking over the mark that delighted him on every level, “there were pups’ lives at stake.” Nipping kisses along his throat, the scent of peaches warmed against skin a sensual caress. “You’d do it again if necessary, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m still a bit of an idiot.” He held her face against him, hissed out a breath as she bit down over his pulse. “That’s three, bad girl.”

Her thighs squeezed…and this time when she tipped back her head, there was only anticipation in the arch of her spine.

That was when he felt it, the wild howling from his wolf that sounded the start of the mating dance.