Dark Wolf Running (Bloodrunners) Page 11
It was fun to look around at his things, as if they were little clues to questions she hadn’t even realized she had. His reading preferences ran toward military thrillers, but there were also titles from authors like Vonnegut, Kerouac and Koontz. From his bookshelves she moved onto his DVD collection, laughing when she saw a copy of Elf, which she considered the greatest Christmas movie ever made. But she was surprised by the fact that such a masculine, purely alpha guy like Wyatt enjoyed it, too, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was like at the holidays. Christmas with the Bloodrunners was no doubt a festive, cheerful occasion, and she was thrilled that Eric would now be a part of it. Her brother might drive her crazy at times, but he truly deserved every bit of happiness he could find here.
When Wyatt finally made it back from his trip with Jeremy, they’d made some sandwiches for lunch and sat at the kitchen table to eat. Wyatt showed her a few photographs he had found online of Sebastian and Harris Claymore, but neither Lycan looked familiar to her. Elise hadn’t known whether she should be relieved she didn’t recognize the brothers...or disappointed. She’d told Wyatt that she didn’t like the look of either of the males but knew she probably would have felt that way about anyone the Runners suspected might have some kind of connection to her attack.
As soon as they’d finished eating, Elise had mentioned that she needed to pick up a few things from her house that she’d forgotten, like her laptop and also some of her files from work. While her office would remain closed while she was gone, she figured she could use her time at the Alley to get caught up on things, as well as work on some of the writing projects she’d been fiddling with in private. She’d known the trip was going to be a test of her willpower where Wyatt was concerned, considering her growing fascination with the Runner, but was determined to keep her cool and refrain from throwing herself at him. Her emotions, however, couldn’t be so easily controlled. They were like a giant boulder tumbling down the side of a mountain, taking on mass and speed, barreling toward an uncertain target that they would, without doubt, obliterate upon impact.
And yet, even knowing that disaster loomed, she still couldn’t stop herself from wanting to spend time with him, and so she’d simply asked him if he wanted to take her up to Shadow Peak...or if he’d rather she ask her brother. It’d been obvious from the look on his gorgeous face that being her first choice had surprised him. He’d probably thought she would be embarrassed to be seen with him in town, which was as far from the truth as you could get. The old Elise...who knew? That woman had been a stuck-up bitch much of the time, acting snide toward others as a way to cover how awful her father had made her feel about herself. But the person she was now felt nothing but pride at the idea of walking down a Silvercrest street with this man at her side.
As they’d neared her home—the one she never had any intention of selling, no matter what her brother said, because she’d put so much of her heart and soul into it—she’d picked up on a slight tension in Wyatt’s posture, unsure what it was about until they walked through her entryway and into her living room. Her clean, completely refurnished living room! It looked like something right out of a Pottery Barn catalog, the style similar to what she’d had but obviously better quality. She knew, without even asking, that this was Wyatt’s doing. It must have cost him a freaking fortune, and she couldn’t manage to close her mouth, her jaw hanging open in stunned surprise.
Finally shaking herself out of her stupor, she turned and found him looking out the front window, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his broad shoulders tight with tension. Voice little more than a shivering rasp, she said, “I don’t understand, Wyatt. Where did this all come from?”
“It’s not that big a deal,” he murmured, hitching his shoulders. “I just went online the other night, made a few calls and was able to have it delivered yesterday afternoon. Eric gave me the code to your alarm and I passed it on to Max and Elliot. They came over and had some of the scouts clear out the old stuff, then made sure that everything was put in the right place after delivery.”
“Why would you do that?” she whispered, so shocked she could barely manage to put two words together. Not even Eric had ever done anything like this for her, and she knew her brother loved her like crazy.
Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Your things got broken during the fight.”
“But that wasn’t your fault,” she told him, unable to resist running her hand over the back of the espresso-colored sofa, the ultrasoft leather making her sigh with pleasure.
“It wasn’t yours, either,” he pointed out in a low voice, turning around to face her. He watched her stroking her hand across the leather for a moment, his jaw tight. Then he slowly lifted his enigmatic gaze back to hers. “Like hell was I going to let you pay to replace furniture that asshole broke.”
She bit her lip, wishing his expression could be easier to read. “I don’t know what to say, Wyatt. This is one of the sweetest, kindest things anyone has ever done for me.”
“You don’t have to say anything, El.” She could have sworn his eyes were getting darker, his gaze hooded. “I did it because I wanted to. Not because I expect anything from you.”
“I know.” She swallowed, wanting to say so much that she didn’t know how to put into words, but was saved by a knock on her front door. Wyatt instantly shifted into protective mode, giving her a sharp look as she started out of the room. “It’s probably just my neighbor wanting to check on me,” she said over her shoulder. “He’s off early sometimes.”
“Check before you open the door, Elise.”
“Yes, sir,” she drawled, though she was secretly pleased by his concern. No one but her brothers had ever worried about her safety before and it was a heady, comforting feeling. She knew that some women might have felt smothered, but Wyatt wasn’t an overbearing ass about it. He just...cared, which was really the most stunning part of all.
It was Eddie at her door, his blue eyes nervous as he caught sight of Wyatt somewhere behind her. It took nearly ten minutes to convince her well-intentioned neighbor that she was fine and there was nothing he could do to help. His devotion to her was always going to be a source of worry because she knew where it was going to lead: to the young Lycan being blacklisted by the town and given a hard time by those who hated her and her family.
Closing the door after their brief chat, she turned and found Wyatt standing in the archway that led into the living room, his powerful arms crossed over his broad chest, the pale green of his shirt looking incredible with his bronzed complexion. “What?” she asked when she saw the odd look on his face.
“What’s wrong with him?”
She winced, knowing Wyatt wasn’t going to like this particular story. Fiddling with one of the oversize buttons on the gray cardigan she was wearing over a white tank top, she related what she knew. “Eddie’s biological father took a baseball bat to his head when he was only a kid. Jillian’s mom, who was the pack’s Spirit Walker at the time, wasn’t allowed to visit him, so it never healed correctly.”
A frown wove its way between his brows. “Jesus.”
“I know. The Lycan ordered Eddie to make a kill on a young deer, and he refused. He’d become friends with the animal, caring for it when it was injured.”
“So the bastard beat him?” he growled. “That’s effed up.”
“I know,” she murmured again, wrapping her arms around herself. “We’re a brutal species, aren’t we? Too many times we try to kill kindness, thinking it makes us weak.”
Shoving his hands back into his front pockets, he propped his shoulder against the archway. “It’s because the Lycans fear it will change them.” His deep voice was soft but rough. “That it will make them more human.”
A sad smile twisted the corner of her mouth. “The more time I spend around Michaela, Torrance and Chelsea, I no longer think that’s a bad thing. We could learn so much from them. How to be there for each other. How to nurture and love, instead of just...” She shook her he
ad with frustration. “I don’t know what it is that we do. Whatever it is, too many of us are broken inside. Scarred. Cracked into pieces that no longer even make a whole.”
Pushing away from the archway, he came toward her, his dark gaze burning with heat...and something that was too breathtakingly intense for her to even name. “You’re not broken, Elise. You’re beautiful.”
She swallowed so hard that it hurt. “I’m not, Wyatt.”
“The hell you aren’t.”
Trying hard not to shatter, she twisted her lips with a smirk. “Careful, Runner. You’re going to be bad for my ego.”
“Good.” He lifted one of those big, strong hands to the side of her face, his thumb stroking the apple of her cheek so tenderly it made her gasp. “There’s nothing wrong with knowing you’re beautiful,” he told her in a low, husky rumble. “And there’s sure as hell nothing wrong with knowing you’re wanted.”
Oh...God.
She couldn’t do anything but shiver as he reached down with his other hand and grasped her wrist, lifting it to his face. He nipped the tender flesh just above the base of her palm, making her heart stumble and trip, while her pulse rocketed. Then he let go of her wrist, wrapped his fingers around her upper arms and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent as if he couldn’t get enough of it. His mouth found the sensitive spot beneath her ear, and he trailed kisses down the side of her throat, breathing warm puffs of air against her chilled skin. But she wasn’t cold for long, a fever building in her blood, melting her down. She was suddenly on fire, burning with need. Molten. Slippery. So freaking desperate for him she couldn’t stand it, even though there was a part of her still nervous as hell. A part that was completely freaking out, wondering if she’d lost her mind.
“Wyatt,” she whispered, swallowing thickly. “What are we doing?”
He cursed something hot and sexy in response that was more of a sound than an actual word, just before he shoved her against the entryway wall and his mouth found hers, his wickedly talented tongue damn near making her eyes roll back in her head. He was that good. That incredible. And she was in so much freaking trouble.
“Oh, God, Wyatt. More.”
Hearing that husky plea on Elise’s soft pink lips was going to be the death of him. And her taste—Jesus, she tasted too damn sweet for words. She could have asked any of the Runners to come with her today, but she’d chosen him, and Wyatt couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph in that. But that satisfaction paled in comparison to what he felt in this moment, kissing her so hard and deep he was practically fucking her mouth. And what a mouth it was. Lush...tender...exquisite and rich and fine.
He needed more, damn it. And he needed it now.
Reaching down, he grasped her behind one jean-clad knee, lifted and moved against her, letting her feel how hard she’d made him. She gave a sharp cry, pulling back from the kiss to gasp for air. But she didn’t push him away. She gripped his shoulders as she arched her back, rubbing herself against him, and it took every ounce of his control not to rip those damn jeans out of his way, rending the denim with his claws, until he had smooth, slick skin beneath his fingertips. He wanted to touch her so badly it was a physical need in his bones, grinding through him, coloring every thought and action with his lust.
Still holding her knee to his hip, he skimmed his free hand over the front of her body, touching her through her clothes. He shaped and kneaded the lush swell of her breast, stroking one tight, plump nipple with his thumb before trailing his hand down to the curve of her hip, then pushing between her thighs and cupping her mound. The crotch of her jeans was already damp, his jaw clenching as he rubbed and felt the slick slide of moisture against her folds. Voice rough and breath tight, he said, “You’re soaking wet down here, El. Tell me why.”
She kept her heavy-lidded gaze on his chin as she blushed. “Why are you—”
“Because I want to hear you say it,” he rasped, squeezing her with his palm, the heady scent of her arousal making him want to howl with excitement. “Now, Elise.”
“Um...you,” she breathed out, closing her eyes as she tilted her head back, grinding it against the wall. “It’s because of you.”
“You want me?” he growled, feeling his beast start to prowl beneath his skin, desperate to get its hands on the woman it already considered its perfect match.
“Yes, damn it. Yes! I wanted you last night and I want you now!”
Using every ounce of strength he possessed to keep his wolf under control, Wyatt scraped his teeth along the delicate edge of her jaw. “I want you, too, sweetheart. I want to put my fingers in you,” he confessed, licking the side of her throat. “I want it so bad I can taste it. Want to feel you pulse and clutch at them. Feel you from the inside out as you come, drenching my hand.”
She moaned, arching her neck to give him better access as he licked and nipped at her soft, pale skin. He gripped her harder between her legs, rubbing against the tight little bundle of nerves that was so screamingly sensitive. He was so hard he hurt, but he couldn’t make himself let her go, more caught up in the erotic moment than he’d ever been caught up in anything in his entire life.
Lips moving against the tender shell of her ear, he said, “And when you’re finally done, your swollen sex all soft and slick and spent, I’ll pull my fingers out and put them in my mouth, El. Lick your taste off my skin with my tongue. Suck on them, so that I can get every drop of your hot, sweet—” He broke off with a shudder, growling low and deep in his chest. Shaking. Trembling. Feeling as if he was falling the hell apart, and all because he was driving himself insane with his own goddamn words.
“Wyatt?” she whispered. “Why did you stop?”
“Because you make me crazy.” He winced, his voice so graveled he barely recognized it. Letting go of her knee, he gripped her hips and muttered, “Fucking crazy.”
She stiffened against him, her hands moving to the front of his shoulders, as if she were going to push him away. “Did I do something wrong? What did I—”
“You didn’t do anything. Everything you do is perfect. It’s just that you make me...you make me want to—” Shit, he was rambling like an idiot. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to lift his head, look her in the eye and tell her the truth. “You make me want to fuck, El. More than anyone else ever has. You understand what I’m saying?”
She blinked, face pink, blue eyes glistening and bright with need. “I affect you?”
“Yeah.” A harsh sigh slipped past his lips. “In a big way.”
Instead of flinching or telling him to get lost, like he’d feared, she simply gave him a smile that was slow and sweet and painfully beautiful. “Good. I’m glad. Because you affect me, too.”
“As much as I love the sound of that,” he groaned, a gritty laugh rumbling up from his chest, “I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing, honey.”
Enjoying herself, Elise slowly arched an eyebrow. “Just because I can’t throw you down and screw your brains out doesn’t mean the idea doesn’t appeal to me, Wyatt.”
He looked surprised by her words, and then a sexy, lopsided grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “Who says you can’t?”
“Oh. Well, you’re bigger than I am. Not to mention stronger.” And then there was the fact that she was... Well, she didn’t exactly know what she was. Afraid was no longer the right word when it came to Wyatt and the way he made her feel. Hopefully cautious?
Lifting a hand to the side of her face, he brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth. “It doesn’t matter if I’m bigger or stronger than you,” he said in a husky, devastating rasp. “You ever get that urge, El, you let me know. I’ll let you do whatever the hell you want to me.”
She wanted to smile and tease him but found herself hit by a sudden rush of sadness instead. “Maybe now you would,” she offered softly. “But one day you’ll have a wife and a family, Wyatt. And having my way with you will no longer be an option.”
“No, I won’t.” S
he opened her mouth to argue that surprising denial, but he cut her off, saying, “I’m not the marrying kind, El.”
“Are you kidding me? You’d be an incredible husband.”
He shook his head, his fingers clenching on her hip. “I won’t. Just trust me. That’s not gonna happen.”
She went silent, studying him. There was a story there in those roughly spoken words, but it was clear from the look on his face that it wasn’t one he wanted to share. And she couldn’t push. She wasn’t that big of a hypocrite. What right did she have to go snooping after his secrets when she held so tightly to so many of her own? So instead, she simply said, “That’s too bad.”
A pained expression flashed across his face, and the next thing she knew he was kissing the hell out of her again, ravaging her mouth, his tongue moving against hers in ways that could only be described as wicked and wild. She shoved her fingers into his thick hair and held him to her, kissing him back just as hungrily, loving the way he tasted. Honeyed warmth and sexy male with a touch of coffee. She felt a hard shudder go through his powerful frame, and his hands moved behind her, gripping her ass as he jerked her against him, possessive and rough, his mouthwatering body giving off a feverish heat.
And then, as quickly as it’d began, it was over.
“Damn it,” he growled, suddenly ripping his mouth from hers and pushing her away with his hands on her shoulders. “We have to stop.”
“Stop?” She blinked up at him, trying to bring him into focus through the fog of lust still clouding her gaze. “Why?”