Rain does an awesome impression of a fire truck. Her blush turns her face bright scarlet. Makes me wonder how far down that blush goes, if it extends over her tits and down to her panties. I’d be happy to strip her and check, but I need to focus on the greater good. Fucking Rain won’t win her over to Keelie Sue’s cause.
“Naughty.” I flick her nose with my finger. “Somebody’s thinking dirty thoughts about me.”
“Am not.”
“Are too, but think away. I’m happy to make your night.”
I lace my fingers through hers and draw her down the hall after me. I can’t help thinking that she’s a little too nice for her own good. She’s way out here in the bayou with me, we’ve kissed, and she just has my word that I won’t hurt her. She’s not thinking about all the ways I could take advantage of her. The dirty, nasty, orgasmic acts I could perform on her. I tried to touch her boobs and she got nervous.
Still, she doesn’t pull her fingers away from mine. She doesn’t hold my hand back either, but she lets me lead and my wolf fucking loves that. When I get to the end of the hallway, I nudge the door open with my foot and tug her in.
“Got the fucking Waldorf Astoria here for you. It doesn’t get better than this.”
“You bring a lot of girls here?” She looks around like she’s either looking for a spare fuck bunny or maybe some Lysol.
And the funny thing is that I don’t. I’ve never screwed anyone here because it’s my place, where I get to be me. But I don’t want her to read anything into that.
“You’re the first.” I blow her a kiss.
“Uh-huh.” I don’t think she believes me.
Don’t care.
“Bathroom.” I point to the left. “Bed. You ask nicely, I’ll loan you my toothbrush.”
“Ewwww.” She makes a face. “That’s so unhygienic.”
We just shared a fork and a kiss, even if there was no tongue, so I don’t see what the big deal is.
“You a virgin, Rain?”
Turns out her face can get redder. “None of your business,” she splutters.
“Because you know where a guy puts his dick? What he does with it? That’s some dirty shit right there—my toothbrush has nothing on that.”
She mutters something super uncomplimentary about my intelligence and I grin and wave her into the bathroom. “Ladies first.”
She disappears for a goddamned long time, too. Probably trying the windows and wondering why she’s decided to give me a chance. That’s okay. She’s not squeezing out the window unless she can shapeshift into a chipmunk, and as to why she’s sticking by me… we’re back to that nice business again. I can practically feel her concern for Keelie Sue.
Unless of course she’s playing me. I consider that possibility for a few seconds. Maybe the nice thing is just a really brilliant act and she’s magically escaping my entirely undungeon-like bathroom right now. I should totally check. Make sure she’s going nowhere.
I shove the door open hard enough that it bounces off the wall and leaves a mark I’ll have to fix. Wait. Stupid fuck. Reformed me is supposed to stop and think before he acts—because what if Rain had been standing too close to the door and I pulled my Rambo number? All that wood bouncing off her soft, pretty skin? I could have hurt her.
And I… don’t like thinking about that.
It’s not like I’m gonna give her a party favor bag when she leaves, but I definitely don’t want her to leave bruised. Or hurting, scared, or anything but pleased. And yes, I’ve got a million ideas on how to please her.
Which, from the angry expression on her face, is the exact opposite of what I’m doing right now. She’s nowhere near the door. Or the window. Or even doing bathroom things.
“Knock,” she demands. “It’s what polite people do.”
She’s not actually doing anything that requires privacy. She’s just sitting on the side of the tub, arms wrapped around herself. I smell toothpaste, but my brush is dry. And when I lift her hand to my mouth, I catch a whiff of mint. Just to make sure, I wrap my fingers around hers and lick. What she tastes like is easy to figure out, but my best theory about what she’s feeling is harder. And why the fuck do I care if she’s sad or shit?
“Come on,” I say a little too gruffly.
I take her hand again because I like doing that. Be happy to hold onto other parts of her too, if I’m being honest, but I need to prioritize. Look but don’t touch, at least until Keelie Sue’s safe and squared away. This time her fingers curl around mine, like maybe she needs to hang onto something or someone, too. Or maybe that’s just my fucked up imagination, the same one that’s considering suggesting my ass or my dick as a convenient handle. Not that I need anyone to lead me around.
Instead I take her straight to the bed. Lights are off because I’ve got wolf eyes and can see just fine in the dark. Rain doesn’t and can’t, but she follows me out of the bright of the bathroom, reaching behind her to kill the light switch. Guess she doesn’t want to waste energy. And then she lets me tow her through the darkness.
“Get in.” I pat the mattress with my free hand.
“Fang.” She sort of sighs my name, but it’s not a happy sound. Not the kind of breathless whisper-moan my girl should be making when my dick’s deep inside her and she’s about to come. She’s thinking about other, less pleasant shit. “Tell me why.”
“You want me to explain the meaning of the universe or you want a bedtime story?”
“Kidnapping’s wrong,” she says instead of answering my question.
“But it got me what I wanted,” I point out. “We’ve been over this.”
She’s silent for a moment, but I can hear her thinking. I let go of her hand because otherwise I’ve got to crawl over her to get in, and there’s no way I’m not sleeping by her side tonight. She’d be out that door in a flash, and I can’t let her go yet. Plus, my wolf thinks we belong there, curled up against her, and while my wolf’s got plenty of fucked up ideas, I’m kind of on board with this one. If I don’t like it, I can move, right?
I saunter around the bed. Not sure her eyes have adjusted to the dark yet, but I can feel her watching me, trying to figure me out. When I reach the other side of the bed, I toe off my boots, shove my knife under my pillow, and shuck my shirt. Usually, I’d lose the pants too, but I don’t want Rain thinking I’m about to make a move on her. Sure, I’d love to, but my dick doesn’t crash the party. I won’t go where I’m not invited.
Mostly.
I drop onto the bed. I weigh a shit-ton more than Rain, so the mattress goes down on my side and she rolls straight into my side. I wrap an arm around her because I don’t want her falling off the bed or anything. She tenses, but fuck me, I kept my jeans on. It’s not like my dick’s not gonna accidentally end up in her pussy, but she clearly needs a distraction.
“Are you gonna have me arrested?” Am I worried about that? Not at all. She’s got no proof and my pretty face is like a get-out-of-jail-free card. Any human cops she drags into this will think I brought her home, we fucked, and now she’s pissed off at me for dumping her ass. My pack’s another story, but I’m working on a plan for them, too.
“Can I leave? Right now?” She answers my question with one of her own.
“Sure.” I slide my free arm beneath my head and stare up at my ceiling. I’d rather be looking at her face as she bounces up and down on my dick rather than paint and beams, but life’s not perfect.
Christ, I really want to fuck her. She’s the prettiest, sassiest, smartest woman I’ve met, and I want her mouth all over my dick. Licking me up, down, all around. Our kiss earlier was amazing, so of course I want more. Lots, lots more.
She slides down and out of the bed, and then walks around and stands there, staring down at me. See, this is one of those tests women like to give, a pop quiz in male-female relations. She wants to make a point about being independent and not being my toy, and that’s fine with me. I need her happy, and I need her willing or she won’t be any use at all to Keelie Sue. So I force myself to lie there in the bed, relaxed when I really want to pounce on her and pull her beneath me. She’s small enough that she wouldn’t stand a chance against someone as big as me, and then I could—
Focus on the end game. Plan ahead, for fuck’s sake. You don’t want to lose her, so tell her what she wants to hear.
“It’s a long walk back,” I tell her.
Fucking brilliant.
She looks unimpressed. “I’ll take the truck. You owe me a felony.”
I fish the keys out of my pocket and toss them to her. She nods and marches back to the foot of the bed. Not the door, thank fuck. I honestly don’t know what I’d do if she decided to leave. I’ve said she has a choice, but I have a fluid relationship with the truth. It’s possible I lied.
“I’ll spend the night,” she announces like it’s her own idea. Whatever. I’m just glad she’s decided to stick around. “You got a guest room?”
“Down the hall,” I admit.
She strides out the door, all self-confidence, and I grin. She forgot to ask an important question. I’ve got a shit-ton of rooms in this too-big house, but almost no furniture. The guest room has an awesome view of the bayou, a handful of dust bunnies, and nothing else. No bed, no mattress, no pillow. Rain’s not stupid—she’ll be back.
Sure enough, she pops back in and she’s not wearing her happy face. “You suck.”
I deliberately don’t point out that I do have a sofa downstairs. That piece of furniture is large enough to hold half the pack, and she could totally camp out there overnight. But she doesn’t want to. Part of her, even if she won’t admit it, likes being here with me.
I pat the space beside me. I won’t even make her beg.
Her eyes snap as she crawls back up the bed. And while I’d really enjoy it if she straddled me, the view from my pillow’s pretty awesome. Her tits bounce beneath her shirt and she’s on all fours, making me think about nailing her from behind. First her pussy, then maybe that sweet ass of hers. I’d make her scream her pleasure. I’d—
It must be all this talk about babies makes me think about making babies, and I’ve had enough practice to recognize the tension building between us. I’m shirtless and we’re in bed; of course, we’re gonna think about doing it. Banging. Boinking. Screwing. Shooting the meat rocket into the sausage wallet.
“Fang?” The mattress rocks as she settles down, tugging the sheet around her.
“Yeah?” I roll over onto my side and somehow we’re face to face. Fuck, we’re mouth to mouth, and when I whisper my question, my lips brush hers. “You want me to put out, just say the word.”
She jerks backward. “No!”
You’d think I’d just offered to piss on her roses or something. I’m making a perfectly nice offer, and she’s acting like I screwed up.
“You got something against sex?” Hard to imagine that since she works with pregnant ladies all day. I think they’d notice eventually if she were judging them for the shit that got them knocked up. She liked our kiss earlier, but then she tensed up on me. Maybe she’s had a bad experience? I don’t get angry easily anymore but thinking about some guy hurting Rain has me seeing red. I’ll just have to get his name from her and then I can pay him a little visit. Introduce him to my fists. What if it was her douche ex? I—
“I’m not screwing someone else’s baby daddy,” she says firmly. “I have some standards, Fang. Plus, we just met.”
I’m not sure what the length of our acquaintance has to do with anything. In fact, it’s kind of a plus. I haven’t had time to get bored and she hasn’t had time to realize all the ways I’m a dick. I suspect her concerns are more that my dick might be harboring germs. Or cooties.
I go for the easy answer. “Keelie Sue’s not my girl.”
There’s a long, disbelieving pause. Rain sort of intuits stuff, which I’m discovering is a pain in my ass. She knows I’m not telling her the entire truth, and she’s gonna wait me out until I spill. Of course I have a feeling it might not hurt my cause any to share a little more. It’ll make Rain trust me and think I’m open and shit. And while I can’t tell her about the werewolves or the pack, there’s a way to frame this in human terms for her.
“She was my president’s daughter. He made it clear that any guy who wanted to take over the MC when he retired did it by marrying his little girl. I was up for the promotion, so I gave it a shot.”
“It?” Rain practically vibrates with outrage.
“Her,” I say with a grin. “Keelie Sue’s good people, but we didn’t work out.”
That’s the understatement of the century. I’d chased after that girl like a wolf dogging its tail, and I’d gotten my ass burned big time. My new Alpha is not a member of the Fang Fan Club, and Keelie Sue wouldn’t mind seeing my hide staked to her wall, either. I’d messed up, plain and simple.
“She kicked your ass to the curb?”
“She chose one of my club brothers,” I admit. “Not sure what she sees in him, but he’s top dog now. He’s got the girl and he runs our shit.”
“So you answer to him now.”
It burns me to admit that truth. “Yeah.”
“And she’s not having your baby?”
“Jace knocked her up.” Man must have super swimmers too because baby werewolves don’t happen all that often. My momma lost the genetic lottery when my daddy knocked her up. Since from the little I know, he hightailed it out of town shortly after banging me into existence, I don’t think he even had to try too hard. Once, twice, a half-dozen shots and there I was. Usually takes a hell of a lot more than that, which is probably nature’s way of making sure wolves don’t run roughshod over her planet.
I’m not sure Rain believes me about the baby’s paternity, but she stops short of calling me a liar. I guess I could do one of those DNA test things, but that would just cause more problems, what with the werewolf thing. Plus, Rain’s talking. And talking. She’s got a lot to say, and she’s figured out that I’m a captive audience tonight. Plus I totally owe her.
So I listen while she tells me that she won’t fall all over me, won’t be a notch on my bedpost. I have to protest that because I don’t have a bedpost. If I did, however, I point out, I’d have to scratch marks into all four of them. I don’t want her underestimating me.
Her response doesn’t come for a long time and when it does, it’s sleepy.
“I’m glad we’ve got that out of the way.” She yawns.
And then she wriggle-squirms into a little ball, pressing her face into my pillow—and away from me. I don’t like that, but I won’t press the issue. Not tonight. Instead, I roll toward her, putting myself between her and the door and any danger that might come busting through. And then I fight a short, hard battle with myself because putting my arms around her isn’t going to be okay with her. Not tonight.
Maybe not even tomorrow.
Maybe not ever.
And I kind of want her to… welcome me. Just a little.