Wild Wolf Claiming Page 10

  “You okay?” he asked, his deep voice rough with concern.

  “Yeah...just...the bed’s cold.”

  “Ah...that, um, sucks.”

  Thinking that it was kind of adorable, how awkward he’d just sounded, she had a little grin on her lips as she lifted up onto her elbow and reached for her phone, wanting to send Vivian a quick message before she went to sleep. Her fingers were still a bit shaky, but she finally managed to type in:

  Please call me when you can. So worried about you! And please let Max help. I met him & trust him. X

  With that done, she set the phone back down and snuggled under the covers, the pillow beneath her head so soft she felt like she was lying on a cloud. She should have been so exhausted she could barely keep her eyes open, but her thoughts kept spinning, while scenes from the night played out in her mind.

  “Elliot?” she murmured a few moments later, keeping her voice soft in case he’d already fallen asleep. But he hadn’t.

  When he said “Hmm?” Skye rolled onto her side to face him, disappointed when she realized he’d rolled onto his side as well, but was facing away from her.

  Staring at the shadowed view of his broad, beautiful back and the short, caramel-colored hair that looked like it might curl if he let it get long enough, she asked, “How do you think the guy responsible for all this craziness found me and Viv? Do you think it was through the club where she works? I keep thinking that has to be it. That maybe...maybe he came in to watch the strippers, and got hung up on how gorgeous Viv is instead.”

  The questions had him rolling onto his back again, and it looked like he was staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know, Skye. That might have been how it happened. Or, hell, it might have been something as easy as just coming across one of you online.”

  “But that wouldn’t even make any sense. We’re both really private people, so we haven’t ever bothered with any social media accounts. No Facebook or Twitter or Instagram.”

  “Whatever his means,” he grunted, popping his jaw, “this asshole has definitely set eyes on both of you.”

  A frown wove its way between her brows, while her stomach twisted into knots. “That’s so creepy. I mean, I could have served him at the diner and never even realized he was some sicko creep.”

  He cursed something gritty under his breath, and she wanted to tell him not to hold back on her account. Then it suddenly occurred to her that she wouldn’t be going into work for... Oh, God. She didn’t have any idea how long this nightmare might last. A few days? A week? Would she even still have a job when it was finally over?

  Unable to deal with all those uncertainties just then, she forced herself to take a deep breath, and simply said, “I need to let the diner know I won’t be in...for a while.”

  “Let me have Monroe contact them for you,” he said in that rough, rumbly way of his that made her think of sex, no matter what he was talking about. “I’ll shoot him a message first thing in the morning. We don’t know if they’ve tapped into the phone lines at the diner, and I don’t want them listening in on anything you might say.”

  “I didn’t even think about that,” she admitted in a slightly panicked tone, thinking of the text she’d just sent. “Should I have my phone turned off? Could they track it to our location?”

  “Shit,” he muttered, turning his head toward her. “I should have told you not to worry about that. My phone has a scrambler in it that will affect the signal on yours, as well. So long as we’re within a three-hundred-foot radius of each other, it’ll be okay.”

  Her brows lifted with surprise. “Wow, that’s pretty high-tech.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, the shadows making it difficult to read his expression. “But I still think you should limit your phone use to Viv and no one else. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “Not a problem,” she told him, realizing he really had no clue just how isolated she kept herself, aside from Viv and the people she interacted with at the diner. “There’s no one else I would want to contact.”

  He let those quiet words linger in the air for a moment, and she swore she could hear the rasp of his beard scruff as he rubbed his fingers along the rugged edge of his jaw. Then he jerked his chin toward her, and said, “It’s been one hell of a night for you, Skye. You should try to get some sleep.”

  “You, too,” she murmured, rolling onto her back. “Good night.”

  “Night,” he echoed, and though she was no longer looking at him, she could tell he was turning onto his side again by the way the cot creaked.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to find a way to relax, but she was too keenly aware of every sound in the quiet room, the fact that Elliot was so close making it impossible for her heart to do anything but pound like a drum. She heard the lightweight blanket he’d covered up with rustle once, then again a few seconds later. His breathing sounded a bit deeper than it’d been when they were talking, and she swore she could feel the heat and tension blasting off his long body, despite the distance between them. She pressed her thighs tightly together, trying to ease the ache that was building there, and realized that her movements had caused that same kind of rustling in the sheets. And that...that was bad, because her imagination immediately took off, heading straight down Dirty Lane and taking a quick right onto Do Me Avenue.

  Oh, God, just...just stay calm, she whispered in her head, but it was already too late. Before she could find the strength or common sense to stop herself, she turned onto her side and said his name again. “Elliot?”

  “Yeah?” he grunted almost at once, making it clear that he’d still been as wide-awake as she was.

  With a hard swallow, she cleared the husky note of lust from her throat. And then the question burning through her mind tumbled from her lips in a hoarse, breathless rush: “Are you touching yourself?”

  He groaned as he rolled onto his back, then muttered one low, gritty word: “Fuck.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, wondering where in God’s name she’d found the courage to actually ask that question out loud. But now that the damage was done, she found herself needing to follow through with it. “I mean...if you are, p-please don’t be embarrassed.”

  Voice tight, he said, “I’m not.”

  Disappointment spread heavily through her veins. “Oh...okay.”

  There was just enough light for her to see that he’d turned his head toward her, his dark gaze burning with a molten, blistering gleam that almost didn’t seem human, it was that intense. “I mean that I’m not embarrassed.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, while inside she was thinking Ohmygod...ohmygod...ohmygod! “So, then, you...um, you were touching yourself?”

  He cursed under his breath again, stabbing his fingers back through his hair, and his sudden response was so harsh it made her jump. “Whether I was or I wasn’t isn’t important. What do you want, Skye?”

  “Oh...um, n-nothing,” she stammered, so mortified she could have died. “Sorry for bothering you. Night!”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he bit out, and it was impossible to tell if he was pissed...or just really, really turned on. Then his head went back, his nostrils flaring as he pulled in a slow, deep breath, like he was scenting the air, a raw sound immediately rumbling up from his chest. “And don’t lie.”

  “I’m not,” she lied again, wondering why she hadn’t just kept her freaking mouth shut. What in the hell was wrong with her? She quickly twisted onto her back, choking off a husky moan as her tight, cotton-covered nipples dragged against the sheet. Her sex felt so hot and wet and painfully sensitive she couldn’t help but rub her thighs together to try to ease the ache there.

  For one heavy, weighted moment, there was nothing but a sharp, piercing silence that made her feel like she couldn’t draw any air into her lungs. And then a deep, serrated groan slipped past his lips, and her eyes shot wide as she turned her head just in time to see him suddenly sit up, swing his long legs over the side of the cot and move to his feet.


  Is he leaving? she thought wildly, her eyes stinging with a sudden wash of tears. But instead of heading for the door, he started walking right toward her, his only clothing a tight black pair of cotton boxers that did nothing to hide the fact he was hard as hell. Not to mention...uh, massive. And so damn sexy she couldn’t have looked away to save her life. Which was why she was still lying there on her back, staring up at him with wide, lust-glazed eyes, when he reached the side of the bed.

  His powerful biceps bunched beneath his tight skin as he fisted and released his hands at his sides, his jaw working for a moment, before he spoke in a rough, almost guttural rasp. “Yeah, I was touching myself. And, yeah, you were in my head while I was doing it. I’m sorry if that was way out of line, but being this close to you is making me so fucking hard. I jerked off in the shower like I was gonna die if I didn’t relieve some of the pressure, but it didn’t work, because here I am, still so goddamn ramped up it’s all I can do to keep myself from begging you to let me touch you.”

  “Elliot.” She couldn’t get out anything more than his name, her own hands grabbing fistfuls of the bedding as she desperately tried to anchor herself in this crazy, raging storm of lust that surrounded her, but it wasn’t any use. She was lost in it, her body so hungry for him she felt like she’d been starving for this moment her entire life.

  “Hell, Skye. I know you’ve had the most screwed-up night in the history of nights,” he growled, his chest lifting with another hard, shuddering breath. “And I know that we’ve only just met. But I can’t stop thinking about you lying there, under those covers, and wondering what you’d do if I got under there with you.”

  “I want you to,” she gasped, unable to hold the confession inside. But then some ingrained sense of self-preservation immediately had her saying, “Only...girls like me shouldn’t reach.”

  She couldn’t see his expression all that clearly, since the light from the hallway was directly behind him, but she could almost feel his frown, and so she rushed to explain. “I reached once. And it...it didn’t go well.”

  He shocked her by sitting down on the side of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip so that she rolled toward him. Leaning over her, he braced his upper body by placing one of those big hands beside her head on the pillow, while the fingers of his other hand curled under her chin. “Are you talking about that damn cop?” he asked, bringing her face up to his.

  “Um, yes.”

  He slowly shook his head from side to side. “You didn’t reach for something good, Skye. All you did with that jackass was reach down into the gutter, and that’s not where you belong.”

  She blinked up at him as she caught her lower lip in her teeth, feeling a little in awe, and a whole lot in...lust. “I...I get what you’re saying, but it didn’t seem that way at the time. It seemed like a fairy tale. He was the boy all the girls wanted.” And you’re even better. You’re so freaking amazing, I can’t even think straight around you.

  “If all the girls wanted him,” he drawled with a wry grin, “then all the girls were stupid. Because that guy is a complete douche.”

  Her lips twitched, and she found herself shaking with a soft, warm rush of laughter. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

  “Not everything,” he murmured, staring at her mouth for a heated, provocative moment, before looking her right in the eye. “Just you.”

  With that husky, yet tender admission giving her the burst of courage she needed to see this through, Skye kicked at the covers that lay between them, until they were bunched up down by her feet. He drew back just far enough that he could run that smoldering, heavy-lidded gaze over her body, lingering on every swell and curve, and for the first time in her life, she actually felt beautiful. Like she was worthy of desire and want and need, and Oh, God, it was...it was freaking incredible.

  Then he brought that hooded, glittering gaze back to hers, and asked her the same exact question he’d asked her only moments before, each word punctuated by a harsh breath. “What. Do. You. Want. Skye?”

  Sweet, blissful emotion washed over her at the guttural sound of his voice, almost as if his hunger were as brutal and demanding as hers. And yet, she knew he’d get up and leave if she wanted him to, and it was that surprising feeling of safety that gave her the courage to finally say, “I want you beside me. On top of me. I want to feel you everywhere, Elliot. I don’t want to feel anything but you.”

  His gorgeous face went hard with need, but his reply was soft. “You sure, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.” And then, with a flash of concern knitting her brow, she said, “It’s just that... I mean, you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”

  Shaking his head, he told her, “No. There’s no one I’m seeing. Not even casually. You?”

  “No. No one.” No longer able to hold back, she reached up and placed her greedy hands against his wide shoulders, his firm skin deliciously hot beneath her palms, like he was burning with fever. Nearly dazed with excitement, she dug her fingers into the dense muscle there, keeping her gaze locked tight with his as she added, “I wouldn’t... I wouldn’t be here if there was someone else. I would have gone to him.”

  “But you’re here with me,” he scraped out, sounding almost like he couldn’t believe it was true.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and she could have sworn the possessive gleam in his dark eyes was saying I’m keeping you. You’re mine. And then he was there, on the bed with her, her legs instinctively parting to make room for him as he came down over her, so tall and broad that he nearly blocked out the light streaming in from the hallway.

  His face tightened as his lean hips settled against hers, his cotton-covered cock a thick, breathtaking ridge against the sensitive seam of her sex, her panties and shorts already damp with arousal. “God, I hope you don’t regret this,” he growled, those dark eyes wild with need as he rolled his hips, surging against her.

  “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t,” she gasped, the heavy, liquid ache inside her making her want all of him, everything, now. Lifting her hands, she threaded them through the warm, thick strands of his hair, and hoped he could see the truth of what she was about to tell him shining in her wide eyes as she stared up at him. “I know... I know this sounds bizarre. I mean, I just met you. But it doesn’t feel like we just met. It feels like we’ve shoved months’ worth of getting to know each other into one night. That we’ve compressed weeks into hours.” She searched his gleaming gaze, and wet her trembling lips with her tongue. “Does that...does that make any sense?”

  * * *

  “It makes sense,” Elliot rasped, her words causing a scorching wave of heat to crawl up his chest, searing beneath his skin. Unable to stop himself, he curled an unsteady hand around the back of her neck, holding her still for him as he lowered his head and touched his greedy mouth to hers in the barest whisper of a kiss, his heart hammering so hard he was surprised it didn’t burst from his chest. She was fucking addictive, and he was already undone by the pillow-like softness of her lips, their cushiony give and silken texture making him throb with raw, visceral hunger.

  Unable to wait, he sank his tongue between those velvety lips, stroking the tender insides of her mouth, and her warm, exquisite taste drove him straight into desperation. Quiet, guttural sounds vibrated deep in his throat, his tongue thrusting and licking, claiming her mouth like it was what he’d been born for. For this, right here. This one perfect, primal, mind-shattering moment.

  And all the while, she was kissing him back just as hungrily, her soft hands clutching at the flexing muscles in his back like she wanted to bring him closer, until there were no frustrating layers of cloth between them and he was pressed against the very heart of her.

  “You’re so fucking sweet,” he groaned against her lips, unable to believe this was happening. “So goddamn delicious.”

  “You’re hot,” she panted, rubbing her hands down his back, to the top of his ass, and then back up again. “Feels so incredible.”

 
Every muscle in his body coiled with craving; his cock painfully hard and blood-thick inside the confines of his boxers, swollen to the point that the veins bulged against his tight skin. The pressure was so intense he felt he might burst, and every time he stroked himself against the drenched seam of her shorts, he had to fight back the violent need to rip the cotton from her body and drive himself inside her, the mouthwatering scent of her desire making him raw with lust and the animal-need to stake his claim.

  He could feel his wolf prowling beneath his surface, driven by dark, primitive hunger, its instinctive need to protect its mate the only thing that kept him from retreating in fear. He knew the beast wouldn’t hurt her. Bite the hell out of her, yeah. But it wanted to feel her coming so hard she was screaming when he did it—in pleasure, not pain.

  With his pulse roaring in his ears, Elliot tore his mouth from hers, his thoughts fracturing as he trailed his lips down her chin, and over the tender, vulnerable arch of her throat, her head flung back in a breathtaking act of surrender. Feeling the scalding pressure of his fangs in his gums, he kept his heavy-lidded gaze trained on her with piercing focus, studying her every reaction so that he would know what she liked—what made her burn—while his hips kept up a steady, stroking rhythm between her legs. He trailed his open mouth lower, licking and nipping his way over the top of her chest, until he reached the quivering rise of her full, heavy breasts. Bracing himself on one arm, he reached down for the hem of her shirt, only a second away from ripping it off and exposing her bare skin, when he suddenly froze with a chilling wave of panic.