Wild Invitation

It took everything Cooper had to hide his relief. "I'm heading out," he managed to say. "Need to run. But I think a few of the others are hanging in the break room."



"We'll save you a slice." Shamus turned, ran backward for a few feet. "I was just outside. Still raining on and off, but the wind's gone flat and the moon's actually out - best view is past the twin waterfalls."



"Thanks." Cooper shoved his cell phone back into his pocket as the senior soldier disappeared around the corner, and bracing his palm against the stone wall of the den, he gave in to a shudder.



He knew his response was extreme, would scare Grace, seeming to spring from a level of possessiveness that went far beyond what might be expected from a SnowDancer lieutenant. No woman wanted to be with a man who wouldn't permit her to breathe, whose care became a cage. Which was why he had to get a grip on himself before she saw him again.



Growling under his breath, he made his way outside and ran until he could think through the chaotic haze of his emotions. He wanted to go after Grace with every cell of his being, needed desperately to scent her alive and well, but he'd already miscalculated once.



Making his way to the den instead, damp but not cold, he showered, then grabbed some dinner from the kitchen and spent the next couple of hours working in his office.



As was usual when he was alone in his office at this time of night, more than one member of the pack dropped by to talk or ask for advice. It kept him busy, and he was fine for the first half hour, okay for the second. The third and fourth were like having nails pounded into his flesh. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing Grace wasn't alone and that Shamus was surely in touch with Emma. Anything happened, Cooper would have the information within minutes.



Finally, he saw the women's vehicle come in, the lights cutting through the dark of the night outside before the SUV slid silently into the underground garage. He forced himself to give Grace fifteen minutes to change and settle in, then stalked down to knock on her door.



This time, he attracted a few interested glances from passing packmates. It was late for a man to be going to a woman's room, and as Grace's boss had returned that afternoon, Cooper couldn't excuse it on the grounds of a systems emergency. He knew they were close to busted. Good.



He needed people to know she was his, that he should be told if she was ever in any trouble.



The lack of secrecy would also give him room to court her as outrageously as he liked.



When the door opened to reveal her clad in pajama pants of pale blue fleece featuring fluffy white sheep, along with a soft black T-shirt that caressed her with the finesse of a lover, her hair tumbling over her shoulders in a dark cloud, he had to take a deep, deep breath to restrain his instinctive response to thrust his hands into the luxuriant mass, tilt back her neck, and bite.



She'd scared him.



He hated the feeling, but he also knew his scars weren't Grace's fault.



She'd acted as any female wolf would with a man who'd dared take her for granted; she could have no idea of the violent response she'd incited in him.



And if he had his way, she never would.



Cooper didn't want his nightmares to shadow the life he intended to build with her.



"Hello, Grace." He leaned against the doorjamb, doing nothing to hide his appraisal of her beautiful body. When her nipples pushed against the well-washed fabric of her tee as her breath hitched, he realized she wasn't wearing a bra, and self-control became one hell of a test. "I left my bag here the other day."



"What?" Pulse thudding in her throat, she swallowed. "Oh, yes, I put it right here." She went to get it, paused, turned back. "You did it on purpose." Smile deepening, he let his gaze linger on her lips. "Did I?"



Chest rising and falling in an increasingly rapid rhythm, she swallowed. "You're being pushy." It was a husky accusation.



He shrugged, his wolf prowling to the surface of his mind. "It's who I am, you know that." His gentleness with her hadn't been feigned - he adored coaxing and petting Grace, but she needed to see and accept this side of him, too. He'd intended to ease her into it, but she'd changed his plans with her rebellion, aroused the primal core of his nature.



"Your fault, you know."



Her hand clenched on the edge of the door. "Mine?"



"You did challenge me tonight." In her own way. "You know how wolf males react to a private challenge from a female."



Her cheeks colored that pretty color he wanted to lick up from every inch of her skin. "It wasn't a challenge."



"Don't be a liar now." A slow tease. "I got the message." He straightened from his leaning position to brace his hands on the top of the doorway, blocking her from the view of those in the corridor. This woman was his. He didn't want to share. Not tonight.



"Invite me in, bad girl."



"If you got the message," she murmured, standing firm, "you know I'm a little mad at you."



Strong, sexy, beautiful woman. "I think I can coax you out of a little mad." Dropping one hand, letting her see it so she wouldn't startle, he ran a finger over her cheek. "All you need to do is open the door a fraction wider."



Grace shivered...and stepped back.



Not bothering to see if they had an audience, he walked inside, and this time, he shut the door. But rather than blocking the exit, he shifted to lean against the wall beside her bed, the shoji screen sitting neatly folded in the opposite corner, and crooked a finger.



"You know you want to."



Rather than scowling at his arrogance as he'd expected, Grace frowned, her eyes looking into his for a single, compelling instant. "Cooper, what's wrong?" she said, and he wondered what he'd betrayed, what she'd seen. "There's - "



Not giving her a chance to continue, he reached back and pulled off his Tshirt. Her gasp was a stroke to his ego, but he wanted more than that. Needed more than that, the irrational fear that had gripped him by the throat having left raw edges in its wake that hurt with every breath.



Dropping the T-shirt to the floor, he prowled across the space that separated them, hotly conscious of the way she watched him, her arousal an erotic musk in the air.



Thank God.



It was a heartfelt thought, because the fact was, his body was more than a bit beat up, had a number of scars - even changeling-quick healing couldn't fix everything. Added to that, he was a big man. Big enough to intimidate - which was the response he caught a faint hint of in Grace's eyes just as he reached her.



"Touch me," he said, stripping his need bare. "I promise I won't touch you in return until you ask." Make no demands that might force her wolf to react with throat-baring submission, savaging the fragile trust that had grown between them.



"That's not fair on you." Quiet words, her eyes continuing to eat him up in a way that had his cock at rigid attention.



"I'll never complain if you have your hands...or your mouth, on any part of my body." He might go insane, but it would be a glorious madness.



Her breasts caught his attention as she sucked in a breath, her nipples tight peaks against her T-shirt. Mouth watering, he put his hands behind his back and locked his arms by gripping one of his wrists with his other hand.



"I," he murmured, "give you permission to punish me for my behavior tonight."



"It doesn't sound like you're dreading it," she said, placing her hands on his chest.



He bit back a growl of demand.



"Trust me, it's torture."



Lips curved, she began to shape and pet him with a distinct feminine possessiveness in every stroke, that of a woman who considered him her personal property. God, it felt good. He couldn't hold back a groan when she skated her fingernails over his nipples.



She paused...and repeated the caress.



"Christ, Grace." Shuddering, he dipped his head forward.



Not the least hesitant, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed him, her hands gripping his waist. He took full advantage, coaxing and seducing with his mouth, his tongue. She let him in, and when he sucked on her tongue, she echoed the intimate caress, her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hard little points he wanted to roll between his fingertips, tug and squeeze until he knew exactly what made her moan, what made her writhe and go molten around his cock.



Breath ragged, Grace broke the intimate contact to press an openmouthed kiss over his left nipple. Pleasure rocked his entire body, almost breaking him in two. When she repeated the caress on the other side of his chest, he had to use teeth-gritting control to keep from throwing her onto her bed, tugging off her pajama pants, and mounting her in the most primitive of matings. He wanted to see that curvy behind move against him, wanted to reach down and play with her heavy breasts as he slid his cock in and out of her in a pounding rhythm.



He just wanted.



And since he couldn't touch, he began to talk. "You know how I'd like to take you the first time we're together?" Too fast, he was moving too fast, being too aggressive for his sexy Grace, but he couldn't stop.



Nails pricking his chest. "How?"



"Face-to-face, you spread out under me, your legs locked around my hips, and my cock buried balls deep in you." She swallowed at the raw sexuality of his words, but he wasn't finished.



"I'd kiss you over and over because I love the taste of you, but I'd have to play with those pretty, pretty breasts. I'd suck and lick and maybe even bite a little. You don't mind teeth, do you, Grace?"



A shake of her head, her skin flushed, the opulent scent of her arousal a drug.



"Good." He dropped his gaze to her breasts. "While I was fucking you slow and deep, so damn deep, I'd close my hand over one of your breasts, squeeze and pet. And you know what else?"



"What?"



A near-soundless question.



"I'd look into your eyes the entire time."



GRACE was having trouble thinking.



Serious trouble. But she knew one thing: the lieutenant was using the addictive pleasure of intimate skin privileges to distract her. And doing a brilliant job of it. Arousal gripped her by the throat, turned her skin so sensitive that her clothes felt abrasive, the delicate flesh between her thighs plump and wet.