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Gwynn jerked out of sleep. It took her a moment to remember where she was and get her bearings by the light of glowing coals. She was burning up, and it didn’t take long to realize the reason was the furnace of a man tucked behind her on the couch. She wiggled and tried to loosen his death grip.
“Are you awake?” His sleep-roughened voice was muffled in her hair.
The roll of heat that stole over her cheeks had nothing do with the faded fire and everything to do with waking up naked with a man she’d picked up on the side of the road.
“Yeah. I’m awake.” She pulled away, looking around for something to cover her nudity and an excuse to put some space between them. “I need some water.” Her mouth was dry, she had a raging headache, and she knew with sick certainty she’d done something way out of character—she’d had sex with a complete stranger.
Of course, it had been the best sex of her life, and she’d had definite reasons, but still...
Aaron’s hold relaxed and Gwynn stretched her fingertips for the blanket lying on the floor.
“By the way, good morning.” Aaron’s eyes glinted in the dark glow of the coals.
“What?” Flustered, she struggled to wrap up in it before getting all the way up and exposing her breasts.
“Good morning. It’s polite to exchange greetings when you wake up naked with someone.”
What was there to say? That she didn’t know him well enough to be polite? “I’m sorry. I...”
Another rush of heat climbed up her skin. She never did this. She chose the men she slept with carefully, at least trying to make smart choices. Nothing she’d done yesterday was smart. Now, she was naked and out of her depth.
“It’s okay. I won’t hold it against you.” His grin flashed.
She realized this was the first real smile of his she’d seen. Last night he’d ranged from grumpy to aroused. Intense, sure, but not normal. Somehow, this smile of his in the dim light of the coals had her feeling a little better about her choices. Maybe he wasn’t so scary after all.
She smiled back. “Good morning.” The sound of rain was gone. Outside everything was still dark. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Four a.m. maybe? Are you okay?”
“Really thirsty.” She stood up. “I could use some water.” She stumbled a little on her way to the kitchen. He was behind her, fast, stabilizing her with a gentle hand.
When he flipped the switch, they both blinked in the sudden brightness. “The glasses are up here.” He turned his back to reach, and she was confronted with the ripple of skin over muscles.
He was stark-naked and inches from her face. A tattoo of three dark blue stars over a stylized mountain ran along his left deltoid. A sudden craving to trace her tongue along the dip in the muscle ripped through her, and she had to clutch the counter for balance. She wanted him warm and heavy between her thighs again. She swallowed and turned her face to hide her lust, hoping he couldn’t see the way her legs quivered.
This wasn’t her—this relentless surge of want that had her in its grip. She never, ever slept with a man on the first date, let alone a complete stranger. She couldn’t believe all she could think about was having him again.
She was the cautious one, slow and steady, the one who thought ten steps ahead. And yet, here she was biting her lip, trying to keep herself from touching this deliciously sexy man standing next to her. Yesterday’s betrayal must have driven her out of her mind.
She glanced around the one-room cabin for the first time, searching for a distraction from Aaron’s temptation. The polite thing to call it was rustic. The correct thing would be a shack. “Um, bathroom?”
“The bathroom’s off the bedroom, through that door.” He bobbed his head towards it.
Okay, two-room cabin. Barely. “Thank you.” She fled the kitchen, shutting and locking the thin door behind her.
She caught sight of her face in the speckled mirror. The wavy lines of the glass distorted her face into a stranger’s. Who was that girl in the mirror, the one whose life had been turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours?
Yesterday, she’d been someone who’d worked hard to overcome her poverty-ridden past. Someone who did more than her fair share at the office and didn’t think about her scummy father more than a few times a year. Someone whose friends kidded about her lack of social life and her pickiness in dating only suits.
Yet, here she was, after a moment of rank stupidity. And amazingly enough it wasn’t sleeping with Aaron that was her mistake. As out of character as that had been—the way her body purred this morning, the way she wanted him again—that had been a good decision.
No, her mistake had been trusting her asshole of a father.
She washed her face and hands in lukewarm water, then glanced again at the girl in the mirror. She squared her shoulders. It was Sunday. She had a whole day to fix this and get back to her real life in the city. Her—work hard, go out a little, and go back to her apartment—life. Sterile, boring, empty. She didn’t even own a pet. Not even a goldfish to miss her.
Unwanted tears welled up and she swallowed them back. Damn it, no more. From now on, she was making different decisions. Look where doing the same old thing day in and day out had gotten her—nothing.
If this is what it took to shake her out of herself, then so be it. Her dad had betrayed her, and because of that betrayal, she’d thrown away her rules and slept with a stranger. And surprise, surprise, it had been amazing. She’d thought all the stories of instant chemistry were lies. She’d been wrong. Deliciously, scandalously, wrong.
Despite her lonely life, despite her crappy father and his betrayal, despite her crazy situation, she actually felt pretty good. And she owed it all to her new risk-taking attitude.
She gave her reflection a stern look and shook her finger at herself. “No more self-pity. You got it? Got it.” With a sharp nod and a last look at her old self in the mirror, she exited into the tiny bedroom and found Aaron waiting for her holding a grey swath of material.
“I’m sorry. Your clothes are still wet, and I don’t think anything of mine will fit you.” He opened up the material and it shook out into out a huge sweatshirt.
She barely looked at it. All her attention was focused on his bare chest. Thoughts of the amazing sex last night swirled through her. Her hands went damp and she practically stuttered out, “Aren’t you cold? This room is freezing.”
“Almost never.” His teeth flashed into a smile. “High metabolism.” He handed her the shirt, but didn’t face away.
For a second, the old Gwynn peeped out. Drop the blanket and get dressed in front of this man? She swallowed, and regrouped.
What the hell, he’d seen all of her last night. He wasn’t the first man she’d slept with, and it was likely he wouldn’t be the last. And she was a new person this morning—a risk-taker.
Okay, maybe not yet. She turned her back to him and dropped the blanket, trying not to think about him scanning her ass as she donned the dress of a sweatshirt and wrapped back up in the warm wool blanket. When she turned back around, he gave her a pair of large, red wool socks.
“Here, these should help with the cold. Are you hungry?”
At the thought of food, her stomach growled. “Starved.”
“Come on, honey, it won’t be fancy, but I’ll make you a sandwich.” He gestured for her to precede him into the kitchen. “I wasn’t really prepared for guests. I’ve got coffee though. But only if you like it black.”
“Black’s, fine.” Not her typical creamy latte, but caffeine sounded amazing.
Her stomach growled again and he laughed. “Food and coffee, coming right up.”
She was conscious of every twitch of her bare backside beneath the swing of the sweatshirt as she walked in front of him. She was hungry, oh, yes, she was hungry, for more of what they’d had last night. But food would do for now. Besides, she still felt a little like the old Gwynn, with those morning-after nerves making her shy away from the heat in his eyes.
He dug in the refrigerator. “Okay, I have turkey, turkey, or let’s see...turkey.” He tossed the package on the counter. “What would you like? Turkey?”
She returned his smile. “Turkey sounds good.” The tightness in her spine eased. She could do this. He wasn’t one of those judgy guys. Aaron would make the morning after easy.
She glanced around while he put together the sandwiches and coffee. There wasn’t much in the room. The kitchen area was a tiny countertop, stove and sink on one side of the door, a rickety table and four chairs on the other, the couch and fireplace...and the door to the bedroom. Her eyes skittered away from that. Somehow the bed made everything real. Not sure why, but out here in the living room they were just Aaron and Gwynn and that was enough for her to deal with now.
She frowned as she examined the room more closely. No cozy overstuffed chairs. No pictures on the wall. There wasn’t a woman’s touch anywhere, just an old umbrella stand in the corner filled with fishing poles and Aaron’s coats on the hooks by the door. It was actually a little weird. Did he live here with nothing except his backpack and a few clothes?
They brought their sandwiches back to the fire and settled down on the couch. The heat radiating off of his skin filled the small space between them and fueled Gwynn’s desire to forget the food, climb on top of his lap, and grind her way into an oblivion of countless orgasmic seizures.
“Do you live up here year-round?” she asked, desperate to keep from making a complete fool of herself.
“No.” He sipped his coffee, seeming utterly unaffected. “I’m just getting away for awhile. How about you, where do you live? You’re sure as shooting not a mountain girl.”
Gwynn looked away. How did you tell a complete stranger about yesterday?
Aaron reached out and took her chin, turned it towards him with a gentle pull. Desire slid across her skin.
“Look, it’s none of my business, but you might feel better if you talked about it.”
Her face flushed, only this time the heat in her skin wasn’t from Aaron’s touch. What to say? Hi, my name is Gwynn, and I’m on the run from my dad and his bookie?
“My ride drove off and left me.”
Aaron kept his sympathetic eyes on hers, but she didn’t add anything more. The silence and the tension residing in Gwynn’s spine grew. She didn’t understand why the sympathetic, almost tender, expression on his face made her uncomfortable. It was almost as if he knew. Could he?
No, that was impossible. She’d been totally alone when her dad had pulled his dick-act. No one for miles.
“As I remember, we were going to get my phone and call someone for you. Reception here sucks. Just in case there might be a few wild bars, I walked out to the road and checked it while you were asleep. No go. Once the weather's cleared a little, we’ll see how the roads are and drive to where it’s better.”
Who would she call anyway? Her dad? The police?
Her mom was down in Texas with hubby number three and she wouldn’t welcome a call. She had nothing to do with her ex and she expected her daughter to do the same. She’d just be all on Gwynn’s ass about how stupid she’d been to trust Herb in the first place and it would be an hour conversation about how horrible Herb had treated Tracy all those years ago. Gwynn would be lucky to get a word in edgewise, let alone tell her mom she needed help.
Tears prickled behind Gwynn’s eyes and the fire became a blurry sea of orange and yellow.
“Hey, hey, honey.” Aaron took the mug from her, pulled her sideways onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug. “No worries. We don’t have to call anyone. You can stay here for a while. Stay as long as you need.”
“You probably think I’m a nutcase.” Despite her best efforts, a hot tear slid down. She tasted salt on her lips and licked it away.
“You’re going through something. And that’s okay.”
He gave her another squeeze and she snuggled deep into his broad chest, giving in to the seduction of his offered comfort. How was it she felt safer here than she could ever remember feeling in her life? The tears fell faster, making her face hot and his chest slick and wet.
“You’ll feel better if you talk about it.” He stroked her hair, his touch soothing her pain.
“You’re offering to talk about my girl problems?” She giggled a little, the sound choked through the tears.
“Hey, somebody has to do something. It seems like those tears aren’t stopping.”
She sat up and sniffed. “You must be desperate.”
“Maybe.” His smile flickered—back almost as soon as it had gone, but his expression stayed serious.
He reached out and brushed her cheek. A single tear rested on his thumb. His eyes locked on hers and he lifted it to his lips and tasted it. She shivered.
Those eyes—cool gray, but with a banked fire deep in the shadows. A fire that called to her, luring her in with memories of the night before.
He pulled her close and feathered her cheeks with soft kisses that stole the saltiness away. “Shh. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.” His husky voice was barely above a whisper.
The tight wrappings keeping her heart safe, loosened. She might be an idiot. Might, once again, be trusting in the wrong man. But inside, where her deepest instincts lived, she believed him. Aaron would make everything okay.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him, tasting the salt of her tears fresh on his lips. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Well then, honey, I think we should fix it another way.” Aaron spread his legs wide and patted his thighs. “Turn around, sit here, and pull your hair to the side.”
Obediently, Gwynn slid over and settled on the couch between his thighs. Her body pressed into his, she began to relax as his powerful hands worked their magic on her shoulders and neck.
She dropped her chin. “Ohhh, that’s nice.”
Expert fingers manipulated her tense muscles until she was limp and her eyes fluttered closed. She wasn’t asleep though. No, far from it. Each slow push and pull sent a sensual pulse through her muscles, spreading through her lower back and easing through her bones, until all she thought of was the night before. And Aaron. And sex.
***
AARON KNEADED DOWN the breadth of her hips to the top of her backside. Even through the thick material of the sweatshirt he felt the dip of her crease, the swell of her ass. Her small moans of pleasure as he pushed into her muscles began to work on him. His balls tightened and his cock firmed.
He leaned into her back and rested his forehead on her shoulders, almost dizzy with the damp clean scent of her hair. What in the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t some raw kid, losing control in the front seat of his dad’s pickup for the first time. He was an experienced adult. He’d played around enough with the women of the pack. He should be able to exhibit better self-control. How was it he’d never felt like this with one of them? He was supposed to be comforting her but all he wanted to do was sink inside every piece of her and immerse himself in Gwynn.
Gwynn was a victim, lost and abandoned, and he’d just lied to her. He’d told her he’d take care of her. But when he’d said it, it hadn’t felt like a lie—it had felt like the God’s honest truth.
He stopped rubbing, his hands hovering at her waist. He was no better than scum, he should leave her alone. He tried to slow his breathing, get back his control, but right when he thought he had it, she wiggled her sexy ass against him, and his cock twitched.
Hell no. He wasn’t stopping. He couldn’t stop. She felt too good.
He began again. This time each slow, even caress was a sexual message as he rubbed and stroked his way around her ribs to her belly. Every touch, every sound she made, every shiver from his touch made his feverish skin burn.
Why this woman? Why should she be the one who made him unable to get up and move away from temptation? Was it just his isolation? Had he been away from people, from his pack, so long that he saw anyone, even a complete stranger who wasn’t a shifter, as someone to belong to?
All of this hummed along in the back of his mind, but he pushed it to the side. Right now every fiber of his body was in the moment with Gwynn, and that’s where he wanted to be.
He tugged the hem of her sweatshirt up, baring her hips and thighs and releasing the sweet honey musk of her scent.
“Ahh.” It stopped him, held him prisoner, until he broke free, and his hands caressed along the smooth skin of her thighs.
She stiffened. He began his massage again and she relaxed back. Medium rubs followed by hard manipulations, then easy, feather-light strokes along the nearly invisible hairs on her thighs. Every touch ratcheting up his arousal, testing him. She bent over, curving her back down over her knees, exposing her spine all the way down to her ass to him in the timeless way of female submission to male. His wolf pulsed beneath his skin, urging him to spread those cheeks and take her. He shuddered and dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her in tight to his erection.
“Aaron?” His name came out in a short pant.
“Mmmm?” It was all he could get out. His own breathing was short and sharp, his adrenaline spiking as he fought for control.
“That feels fantastic.”
He slid his hands up her legs and she spread them wide, giving him access to her center. He wanted to please her. Wanted to give her a memory of him that would last the rest of her life—a memory that would stand between her and any other man.
His muscles clenched and his wolf woke. Ours.
“Aaron?”
“Sorry, honey.” He shoved his wolf back, forcing his fingers to relax their bruising grip. But he didn’t let go.
She wasn’t his, wasn’t pack, wasn’t a potential mate. She was his prisoner and he’d lied to her—he had no right to feel this way. It was only his isolation that had his wolf searching for companionship in someone like Gwynn. Her female scent was confusing his need for companionship with the need to take a mate.
He shook his head, trying to shake the need for Gwynn.
This wasn’t right. He had to focus on his goal, on getting back the land. Once he did that, the pack would bring him back into the fold. Then, he’d have plenty of company, the right kind of company—women his wolf could truly form a mating bond with. Not a sweet-smelling girl who was simply a substitute for what his wolf truly needed.
He couldn’t keep her, didn’t want to keep her. His life was complicated, and a human woman would only make it worse.
Aaron wrapped around her back, burying his face in the soft curve of her neck, once again surrounded by her honeyed scent. A tremor ran through him, but this time he was in control. Good. He could do this.
He trailed his fingers between her thighs, down through her soft curls, finding the button of her clit. She gasped and spread her legs wider, pushing against his legs. A deep shudder went through him. His cock was rock hard and ready to go. It would be so easy to pick her up and slide her on to his erection and enter her sleek wet center. But he was determined to go slow. If this was the only time he would get with Gwynn, he was absolutely going to make sure she remembered him. He was going to make it count.
He moved his other hand around, toying with her entry’s moist slit, and she moaned. He nuzzled her neck. The urge to sink his teeth into her soft flesh and hear her whimper pulsed through him, setting off alarms in the back of his head. He growled, fought the distraction, and pushed his fingers deeper into her wet pussy.
He was in control, not the wolf. And not his need for companionship. He would torture himself until she came.
Then he would take her.
She shook with her building orgasm, but he wasn’t ready yet. He wanted to have her naked when she came, hot and throbbing around his hand. He wanted her skin-to-skin. He stopped, pulling his hand out, and she mewed a pleasing protest.
He brought his hand to his face, licking her juice from his fingers, her scent and taste stoking his fire. His wolf growled from deep inside, but he ignored it. The wolf was wrong. Gwynn, as much as she smelled good, felt good, tasted good—wasn’t theirs.
He got up and moved away, giving himself a few seconds of space. “Take your shirt off.”
She obeyed, her languid movements slow with arousal. While he watched her, Aaron stripped off his own clothes. He sat down and pulled her back into place. Now they were skin to skin, his erection snugged firmly against the curve of her spine. He wrapped his arms around her and cupped the full weight of her breasts in both hands, rolling her taut nipples between his fingers.
“Aaron.” She pushed her ass against him, widening her thighs again and exposing her folds. Her scent rose, making his mouth water. He wanted a taste...The shudder that went through him shocked him with the strength of his need for her pussy to be in his mouth, shocked him so much that instead, he slid the fingers of his other hand back inside her creamy folds. In and out, giving her exactly what she wanted. Every whimper urging him to rub more, stimulate more, directing the pressure until, she arched back, bowed and bucked and screamed, her muscles tightening around his hand, the pressure of her climax shooting through him, pumping him hard with desire.
The heat flashing on his skin was nearly unbearable. He wanted to rub against her, cover her with his scent, and release the flame of his need.
He should wait. He should do more. He should bring her again and again, show her how he could pleasure her with his hands and his mouth because as soon as he slid inside her, he knew—he’d be lost.
“On the floor.” His voice was little more than a growl.
He threw a blanket on the floor and she fell to all fours, her ass right in front of him. Her scent filled the room, filling him, racing through him until he couldn’t wait any longer. “I have to have you, Gwynn. Now.”
She didn’t even speak, just spread her legs wider so he could see her slick pink folds—open and waiting for him to take her from behind. He knelt and took her hips in his hands. The tip of his cock grazed her entrance, dipping into wet warmth. He shuddered.
He had enough sanity left to sheathe himself in a condom before he spread her legs and entered her, pushing his cock deep into her liquid heart.
“Now, Aaron. Now!”
He’d planned on a slow, careful tempo that would bring her again and again, but her words and the way her pussy clenched his cock blew his plans apart. He drove into her. His beast rose to the surface, driving him faster, wanting him to push past his limits with every thrust.
Gwynn’s panting moans urged him on, the sound driving him further and harder, until she keened her crescendo. His control broke. Still inside her, his cock moving in and out, he pulled her up onto her knees. His teeth skimmed her neck and her scent flooded his nostrils. Mine.
At the last second, he jerked his jaw away and came.
He panted, sanity returning as his pulse slowed. By the skin of his teeth he’d avoided biting her. Shit. The near loss of control sobered him.
The urge, the need, still lay hot under his skin and he recognized it—the claiming fever. He’d had it once, briefly, in adolescence when he’d been given the Bite and been brought into the pack as an adult shifter. But he’d never come this close since to feeling the fire and claiming a woman as his mate. Out of all the women he’d slept with, Gwynn couldn’t possibly be his mate—she was human.
His brain spinning he withdrew, helped her clean up, and curled back up on the couch with her. He didn’t question his desire to keep her here, tight against him, his face buried in the crook of her neck. His wolf wanted her. He wanted her. And his control was wire thin.
Could Gwynn possibly be one of the rare humans who carried the magic of the recessive wolf DNA? Would he be responding to her like this if she wasn’t?