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Dark Wolf Rising Page 8
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“I am?” She put both hands on her cheeks, her expression as woeful as a little girl who’d just lost her puppy. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” he grunted, wondering when he’d become such a sap. “It’ll probably start wearing off in a little while. But I need to go ahead and ask you some questions.”
“Okay. I’m ready.”
Eric grabbed one of the bottles of water he kept behind his seat, then handed it to her with the order to drink it. After she’d taken a few sips, he said, “Did they ask you any questions before they doped you up?”
Nodding, she said, “A few of them did.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Not much. Just that I was looking for Perry. And that you had kicked me off your land.”
“You gave them my name?”
Her nose scrunched. “I think so.”
Shit. Now he didn’t know what the hell was going on. Had they kept her because of Perry...or because of him?
“Eric,” she murmured, setting the water bottle in a cup holder, “I don’t feel so good.”
“What’s wrong?” He could feel a frown settling between his brows. “Are you going to be sick?”
“No,” she moaned, turning on her side and curling against the back of the seat. “I just can’t stop...aching inside.”
Fury swept through his veins like a blistering flame. “Where?” he rasped, terrified that she’d been raped and hadn’t told him. “What the hell did they do to you?”
She shook her head, her long hair streaming over her shoulders. “It’s not that,” she groaned. “I think...I think it’s the shot they gave me.” The words were forced through her chattering teeth. “I’m...it’s too much. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin!”
His jaw was clenched. “Where do you hurt?”
“Everywhere...” Her voice trailed off on a startled gasp, and he could scent the change the instant it hit her. One second she’d smelled of sexy female and exhaustion—and in the next, her scent exploded into something hot and wet and hungry. It hit him so hard he nearly drove off the side of the road, straight into a friggin’ telephone pole.
“Chelsea?” he croaked, wondering what the hell was going on. He could taste her escalating arousal on the air as if it were sitting in his mouth, on his tongue. Could feel it stroking over his skin like a physical touch. With each second that went by, her lush scent was getting thicker...richer, his wolf so turned on he was ready to howl.
“Eric, Oh, God. I’m burning up,” she moaned, her tone needy and sexual, making him sweat. Then she reached up and started tugging at the buttons on her white, short-sleeved shirt, and he nearly died.
Hell, no. This could not be happening.
Cursing, Eric grabbed his phone again and quickly called Jeremy’s number. “Change of plans,” he barked, the instant Jeremy picked up. “I need Jillian. Now!”
“Hold on, man. I’ll get her.”
While he waited for the healer, Eric struggled with Chelsea’s suddenly wandering hands, his eyes nearly crossing when she reached down and ran her palm over the blatant ridge that was trapped behind his button fly.
“Goddamn it. Stop that!” he growled, jerking her hand away from the most ill-timed hard-on he’d ever had.
Jillian’s voice was suddenly coming through the phone. “Eric?”
Panting, he said, “Yeah, it’s me.”
“Listen. Cian just called Jeremy on the house line. He and Brody are almost in Wesley. Do you need them to meet you?”
“No! Tell them to head back home.”
“You’re sure?”
He imagined Chelsea trying to run her hands over a smirking Hennessey and nearly popped a blood vessel. “Yeah. If that Irishman comes within twenty feet of me right now, Brody’s gonna be looking for a new partner.”
“Um, okay. I’ll pass along the message.” He could hear her telling Jeremy to call Cian back, and then she said, “Now tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s Chelsea. Something’s wrong with her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was shot up with something at the club, and when I found her, she was unconscious. Since she came to, she’s been pretty much out of it. Then she started complaining about burning up, saying she was coming out of her skin, and the next thing I knew, her scent was off the charts.”
“Does she smell aroused?”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed, but he felt himself go hot around the ears. “Uh, yeah. Big-time.”
“Eric, I think they’ve given her some kind of high-powered aphrodisiac.”
Son of a bitch. He made a guttural sound deep in his throat, thinking of what those bastards must have had planned for her.
“Can you deal with it?”
“Deal with what?” he asked, distracted by the tempting thought of turning around, heading back to the club and ripping the throat of out every scumbag who had planned on touching her.
Jillian’s tone was more forceful, demanding his attention. “Depending on how strong the drug is, she could end up in a lot of pain, Eric. I’ve heard of drugs like this before, and they’re rumored to be very powerful. I’d tell you to take her to a hospital, but I don’t think there’s anything they’d be able to do. She’s just going to have to ride it out, but the good news is that there shouldn’t be any long-term effects to worry about. As soon as you can, though, you’re going to want to get her someplace private, because there’s a strong chance she’s going to need help getting through it.”
“Help?” Sweat chilled on his skin. “What kind of help?”
“The main thing is that you make her comfortable. Try to keep her calm.”
He had to take the phone away from his ear for a moment as he struggled with Chelsea and those wandering, sanity-destroying hands of hers again. When she finally slumped back into her seat, her fingers busy undoing the rest of the buttons on her shirt, he lifted the phone back to his ear. “What exactly are you saying?” he asked, sounding breathless and pissed and completely freaked out. “Spell it out for me, Jillian. I can’t have any gray areas here.”
“Okay. If she needs to orgasm, then make her orgasm.”
Aware of the tenuous hold he had on his control, Eric pulled off the road and into the lot of an abandoned gas station, his chest working like a bellows as he slammed the truck into Neutral. “Goddamn it,” he seethed, forcing the words through his gritted teeth. “I’m not going to rape her!”
“That’s not what I mean,” she said, her tone deliberately calm. “And I understand what an uncomfortable position this puts you in, but she needs you right now. Her body is going to seek release again and again, until the drug is out of her system. If she can’t make it happen on her own, then she’s going to need your help. It won’t require actual intercourse, though that’s probably what she’ll want.”
Covering his eyes with his hand, he muttered, “This is a bad fucking idea.”
“If you can’t handle it, Eric, then you need to bring her to the Alley right away. I’m sure Cian won’t mind—”
“Don’t,” he warned in a chilling tone, cutting her off. “Don’t even finish that thought.”
“Then stop acting squeamish and help her out,” she snapped, losing her temper. “You have no trouble screwing around with all those females up in Shadow Peak. I didn’t realize you were too good to touch a human.”
His breath left his lungs in a sharp, angry burst. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I have no problem with humans. Just this one!”
“God, Eric. What the hell has you so uptight about this woman?”
“I don’t know.” He was careful to keep his gaze focused straight ahead, but he could see the snowy white lace of Chelsea’s bra from the corner of his eye, and kn
ew her feminine little shirt was now hanging wide open. “It’s... She’s...” He tried, but couldn’t put his feelings where she was concerned into words. At least not any that made sense.
“Eric,” Jillian said gently, and he tensed, knowing damn well she was about to drop another bombshell on him. “This isn’t the kind of thing I would normally ask over the phone, but you don’t sound like yourself. So I’m just going to ask. What is this woman to you?”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Is she yours?”
His stomach churned. “No. My wolf didn’t recognize her scent. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to get involved with her.”
“Well, the choice is yours. You can always call back and let me know what hotel you take her to, and then I can pass the information on to Cian.”
And you know what Hennessey’s like, his wolf snarled. The Irishman would get such a kick out of this. He’d be more than happy to lend her a helping hand.
“Jillian.”
“Yeah?”
With a ragged sigh, he said, “Sometimes you can be such a bitch.”
“But you love me anyway, right?” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“At the moment, all I want is to put you over my knee.”
She gave a delicate snort. “Just be careful, and call me if you have any problems.”
A gritty, humorless laugh surged up from his chest. “This whole goddamn night is a problem.”
“You’re going to be fine, Eric. Just trust your instincts.”
“That’s the last thing I trust,” he muttered, disconnecting the call and shoving the phone back in his pocket.
Scrubbing his hands down his face, Eric struggled to get his thoughts into some kind of order, but it was impossible. Awareness of the all-too-human Chelsea Smart prickled across his skin like crackling sparks of electricity, his body vibing to a hot, jagged pulse of need. He could feel her, scent her, like the promise of something ripe and sweet, the husky cadence of her breaths the sexiest damn thing he’d ever heard. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was gonna make it out of this with his sanity intact. The only thing he could hope for was that he could still look at himself in the mirror come morning.
You’re making the right choice, his wolf rasped, its low tone thick with satisfaction.
“Shut up,” he grated, knowing damn well the animal was looking forward to getting its hands on her. “I don’t want to hear a single word out of you.”
“What?” she murmured, mistaking the guttural words as being meant for her. “But I didn’t say anything.”
“I know you didn’t, Chelse.” He took off the hand brake and put the truck into Drive, heading back out to the highway. “I was talking to myself.”
“Hmm. You want to know something? I can’t believe that you’re here with me. That you saved me. I was so scared, but not anymore.” She leaned over the center console, burying her nose in his throat, and he stiffened in shock when her tongue flicked against the hammering pulse throbbing beneath his skin. “Mmm,” she moaned, “you taste so good. I want to put my mouth on you...all over you...”
Christ, God, Almighty.
The hairs on the back of his neck lifted, his muscles knotting like thick coils of rope. Jillian had told him to trust his instincts, but every fraction of instinct he possessed was telling him this was going to be the longest friggin’ night of his life.
Hitting the gas, he wondered how long it would take before he lost his goddamn mind.
As Chelsea reached down, her small hand landing on his rigid thigh, Eric got his answer.
Not long at all.
Chapter Six
The motel room was decorated in pale shades of cream and blue—but the soothing color scheme wasn’t helping him relax. Eric was still as restless and on edge as he’d been when he’d found the motel on the outskirts of town. Still thrown completely off balance.
And now he was stuck in this tiny space with a woman he wanted so badly he couldn’t think straight.
With a hard, frustrated growl, Eric shoved his hands back through his short hair and locked his fingers behind his neck. She didn’t deserve this, damn it. Yeah, she might be stubborn and bad at listening to sound advice, but she was a good person. She didn’t deserve to be shoved into this kind of situation, and he was the last male on earth who should be laying his hands on her.
“Elric.”
The slurred, whispered sound of his name made him flinch. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the bed...and the woman waiting there. He’d managed to get her to button her shirt back up before carrying her from the truck to the room, but it hadn’t helped much. She still looked incredibly sexy, all rumpled and flushed, as if she were lying there just waiting for him to fall on her like a sex-starved animal—which was exactly what he felt like. It didn’t matter how many women he’d bedded, or how recently he’d been with them. They hadn’t been Chelsea, and that seemed to make a helluva difference.
He was pretty sure he didn’t want to know why.
“It’s getting worse,” she moaned, holding her middle as if she was in pain. But her features were etched with sexual need, her heady scent thick with arousal. Whatever drug Curtis Donovan had given her, he had no doubt it was doing its job. Making her mindless with hunger. Making her as animalistic in her needs as he was.
“Is this...do I feel like this because of what they put in my arm?”
“Yeah.” His voice was little more than a croak. “The drug won’t hurt you, but it’s an aphrodisiac. It’s making you crave sexual release.”
“I...yes...crave,” she panted, moving onto her hands and knees and crawling toward him. Her eyes were glassy and bright, the deep blue reminding him of the sun-kissed surface of a lake. “You’ve got to hurry!”
“Damn it, Chelsea. You need to just take a second and think this through.” He curved his hands over her shoulders as she rose up on her knees at the foot of the mattress, her own hands fisting in his T-shirt. “You don’t want to do this,” he said unsteadily, trying to hold her away from him without hurting her. “You don’t even like me, remember?”
“Like you more than any other man I know.” She leaned forward, nipping his chest through the soft cotton, sending him a hungry look from beneath her lashes. “Please...don’t leave me like this. Help me.”
“Jesus,” he hissed, his fingers tightening on her shoulders. “It should be any other man in the world but me here with you. I’m not good for you, honey.”
She tilted her head back and stared up at him, her gaze slowly clearing, as if she was riding another momentary wave of lucidity. Her pink little tongue swept over her lips, and she seemed to be trying to calm her breathing as she said, “Eric, I know this sucks. And what I’m about to say probably doesn’t make a lot of sense, but you’re...you’re the only guy I know who I’d trust, no matter where I was. Home. Here. On a freaking desert island. If this has to happen, I want it to be you.”
“See?” His voice was raw. “That just proves it. You don’t have a clue what you’re saying.”
“Trust me, I know. I’m just...just too desperate to let my hang-ups get in the way. But if it makes you feel better, I’m sure I’ll be horrified that I said these things to you tomorrow. But only because I’ll be embarrassed. Not because you helped me.”
His nostrils flared as his own breathing turned ragged. “You’re putting me in an impossible situation, Chelsea.”
“They did this,” she countered, starting to tremble. “Not you. Not me. I’m just trying to get through it.”
If she’d been in her right mind, there wouldn’t have been a force on earth that could have kept him from shredding her clothes, spreading her legs and shoving himself so deep inside her he could feel her soul. But this wasn’t Chelsea’s choice—she might have
chosen him, but she sure as hell hadn’t chosen the circumstances—and that changed everything. Shackled him in a way that he silently prayed would be enough. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. One momentary slip of a claw or fang, and the consequences would be disastrous.
“Lie down,” he rumbled in a low voice, reaching for one of her small, sneaker-covered feet. “Let’s see if we can get you more comfortable. Okay?”
“Just hurry!” she panted, her voice cracking, and he could feel the need rising inside her. Could scent it on her skin. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, imploring him for help with her glistening eyes.
“Shh. It’s okay. I’ll...take care of you.” And probably lose my mind in the process, but hell, it’s not like I was all that sane to begin with.
If he had been, he never would have ended up in this kind of no-win situation, where every possible scenario and action seemed to make him a jerk. His stomach twisted, but he choked back his unease and turned his focus on Chelsea, determined to make it as easy for her as he could.
Tossing the shoe over his shoulder, he pulled off her sock and grinned down at the foot he held in his hand. “I was right.”
“About what?”
He ran the pad of his thumb over her red toenails. “Your feet are adorable.”
She smiled up at him with a wobbly, kinda shy curve of her lips as he dealt with the other shoe and sock, but he could see the pain building in her gaze, the normally bright blue bleeding into something dark and turbulent. “Take off my clothes, Eric.” They were soft, almost silent words, but he flinched as if she’d shouted them.
“I can’t.” His voice was hoarse...tight, the phrase No way in hell looping through his head again and again. He’d get her off, because it was what she needed, but the more barriers he could keep between them while he did it, the better.
Stretching out on the bed beside her, he pulled her close, her back to his front as they lay on their sides. He wondered if she could feel the pounding of his heart thudding against her spine as he closed his eyes and curved a hand over her hip, slowly sliding it between her legs. She jolted at the intimate contact, even though she still wore her jeans. But Eric could feel the heat of her through the already-damp denim, his jaw aching as he gritted his teeth and fought to maintain control. Ignoring his own raging need, he buried his face in her silky hair and used two fingertips to apply pressure where she needed it most—rubbing...stroking...working that sensitive peak with every ounce of skill he’d managed to acquire over the years.