Max paced up and down the clinic that was feeling smaller with every passing minute. For the third time, he unfolded the crumpled note Trina had left and reread it. For the third time, all it said was that she would be back soon. And for the third time, Max wadded it back up in his fist and considered hurling it into the garbage before stuffing it into the pocket of the hospital gown he’d found on a shelf.
Dammit! He’d told her specifically to wait for him before going to talk to the pack alpha. The note didn’t specifically say she was going to do that, but Max wasn’t stupid.
Every other turn he took brought a fresh twinge of pain in his side, but he ignored it and continued pacing. He wouldn’t allow a mere gunshot wound to slow him down, not when McNish and his hunters were gunning for him and every wolf in the local pack—literally. Max didn’t have time to get caught up in pack politics. He had a job to do, and that job was to take out McNish, one way or another.
Just thinking about Dick McNish and all the shit he’d pulled over the years drew snarls from his wolf. His arms grew furry for a moment, and part of Max wanted to set the murderous beast loose. It wouldn’t be too hard to pick up on the hunters’ ripe body odor, which would lead him back to McNish. He only needed a few seconds and one exposed throat to sink his fangs into.
His wolf didn’t just want vengeance. He wanted justice for everything McNish had done to him and his, as well as for everything the bastard was planning to do. Painful memories stabbed his brain like ice picks but were quickly replaced by the even more distressing thought of Trina stumbling into the slimeball’s crosshairs.
That was why he’d insisted she wait for him to leave the cabin. He wanted her by his side at all times, so he could protect her if worse came to worst. Sure, the pack alpha was charged with protecting every member of his pack, but not the way a mate would. Max had long since learned that if he wanted something done right, he had to do it himself. It was the unspoken motto of lone wolves, and it hadn’t taken him long to embrace it.
The sound of approaching footsteps snapped Max out of his slightly feral thoughts, and his attention focused on Trina’s sweet scent that reminded him of a piña colada. She was okay. And she’d come back to him.
As the door swung open and a startled Trina stood motionless in the doorway, Max stomped over to her and she drew back in alarm. Max barreled toward her as if she were his prey, and that was exactly what was on his mind.
“Max—” was all she had time to say before he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him, kicking the door shut behind her and pinning her against it.
His cock had never been so hard in his life, and it pulsed against her body like a beating heart. She gasped when he took her face in his hands and started kissing every square inch he could. Then she clutched the front of the thin cotton gown. Before she could chide him for getting out of bed, his lips closed on hers and she practically melted in his arms.
Triumph and lust flooded his veins. Even the ever-so-professional healer couldn’t resist him once he had his mouth on her. Her lips were satiny soft under him as his tongue invaded her, and he couldn’t stop his hands from exploring every inch of her body that her clothing would allow.
Stupid clothes!
Her hair looked and felt like gold as it ran through his fingers. The pencil that held her bun in place slipped out easily, allowing those gorgeous locks to fall over her shoulders. It looked just as he’d imagined. He craved everything about her, and he didn’t want to wait another minute to claim her.
“Mine,” he growled, sending a shiver down her spine that he could feel.
His hands ran down her back and across her sides until they came to a stop on her hips, where they took their time exploring the spread of them, the way the flesh yielded to his touch, yet was as strong as a steel girder. Sliding his hands behind her, he reveled in the swell of her ass, cherishing every curve as he pulled her against him.
As hard as he was, her desire filled the air of the tiny clinic so thickly it caught in his throat. Yet he sensed hesitation within her, a thin ribbon of doubt. Why? Their connection had drawn him out of the forest as he bled to death. It brought her out of her cabin in time to save him. They both felt it. They knew it was real. So why the misgivings?
Pulling away, he let his gaze penetrate her, trying to find the answers in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Trina looked up at him, dazed and panting, but gently pushed him away just the same. Trembling fingers combed through her golden hair, coiling it up into a bun again and magically tucking it in on itself so it stayed without the benefit of the pencil.
“Wow,” she breathed, shaking her head a little, which let a strand of golden hair fall free. “We need…” She took a deep breath and blew it out, sending the loose strand flying. “We need to cool our jets, Casanova.”
“Why?”
Frustration flared in him, but he didn’t try to stop her when she sidestepped him to put space between them. He wasn’t interested in forcing her into something she didn’t want—but she did. Her scent proved it.
“Listen, I’m…happy about this. That we’re fated mates. You have no idea how happy I am.”
“Then what’s the problem?” he demanded, advancing on her until she sat on the gurney and put out a hand to slow him down.
“The problem is,” she said in a firm tone that stopped him in his tracks, “that you really need to lay off the whole ‘Me Tarzan, You Jane’ thing you’ve got going on. I don’t know how it normally goes where you come from, but I have to tell you, it’s off-putting.”
His first instinct was to balk. Mates fucked, and that was that. But a part of him he thought he’d lost long ago surfaced long enough to remind him that civilized wolves didn’t behave like cavemen. Rubbing the tension from the back of his neck, he nodded.
“I see.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Max. I want this. I really do. I just…”
“No, you’re right,” he said, giving her a soft smile. He ran a hand through his overly long, scraggly brown hair and sighed. “I’m sorry, Trina. I haven’t been acting in a way that’s very… becoming.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
In that instant, he knew he loved her. Call it insta-love and piss all over it, but facts were facts. This caring, sweet, intelligent, compassionate woman would be the love of his life, and no one would be able to convince him otherwise.
“It’s not just that,” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t say this to anyone except you—and yes, I know we’re practically strangers—but I’ve had my suspicions that lone-wolfing it this long has taken its toll.”
True to her nature, Trina’s brow furrowed in concern. “How so?”
“First of all, I spend a lot more time shifted than I used to. And the more I do, the more it seems I get caught up too much inside my own head. You know the feeling when you’ve been alone in the same house all day, so much that you start to get a little stir crazy?”
Trina snorted softly. “Oh yeah.”
“It’s kind of like that. My wolf and his instincts have been front and center of my mind for so long now that the man I used to be isn’t on his A-game, if that makes sense.”
His attempt to be lighthearted made Trina nod sympathetically, and Max met her hypnotic gaze with a sheepish smile.
“How about we start over? Take two.” He held out his hand to her. “Hi, I’m Max Kincaid. Nice to meet you.”
Her laugh felt like birds chirping in the rustling leaves of the forest. “Let’s not get crazy, Max. I appreciate that you shared what’s going on inside you, and I stand by what I said before. That’s a lot to handle, man or wolf.”
Giving him a coy smile, she shimmied around until she was stretched out on the gurney. Then she patted the spot next to her, inviting him to join her.
“Lie down with me, Max. We already know there’s room for two.”
It took a few extra seconds for him to lie in a position that didn’t shoot jolts of pain through him, but once they were settled on their sides, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. They stared into each other’s eyes, and Max realized it wouldn’t take much for him to get lost in the eternity of her eyes. They were boundless, limitless, full of promise.
“You’re one hell of a healer,” he murmured, his fingers stroking light circles on her hip.
She smiled. “Well, I’ve never had a patient quite like you before. Actually, I’ve never met a lone wolf before either. It must be so difficult running without a pack for support. Do… do you like it?”
He felt her worry before she even spoke the words. She was afraid he’d run off again or expect her to leave her pack behind to join him.
“No,” he replied emphatically. “I hate it.”
“Then why…”
He broke their connection and looked beyond her, into the past. It was a scary, ugly place. It hadn’t always been, of course, but all he saw now was the suffering.
“I used to have a pack. Now I don’t.”
He could almost feel the questions racing around in her brain, but she remained expressionless and just watched him. Without another word, she pulled his head to the cradle of her neck and held him. It felt so natural and so nurturing that he could have fallen asleep right then and there—if his body wasn’t on fire from her touch.
Her hands caressed his face, his neck, his chest, but he held himself in check. Tarzan might have been a sex god back in the day, but Trina deserved his patience. If she wanted to wait, he would, as trying as it might be. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.
Her fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, fluttering along the edge of his lower lip. Her gaze lingered there too, and then she unknowingly licked her own lips. He watched as a mysterious battle raged inside her, and then her head inched closer and closer until their lips were almost touching. Trina’s eyes finally fell closed and a sigh whispered against his mouth as she closed the distance between them.
This kiss was much gentler than their previous ones. Slow, soft, sweet. Just like Trina. Much to his surprise and delight, he liked it too.
It soothed him.
It soothed his beast.
It soothed his wounded soul.
Holding back just enough so he wouldn’t seem brutish, Max let his hands wander over her body again, this time more slowly and purposefully. While their lips flirted and their tongues danced, their hands became acquainted with each other’s body. Taking things slowly had never been so delicious.
Max and Trina became lost in each other, forgetting the clock as they explored each other. It was heaven, and Max didn’t think he could be any happier than in that moment. Then her fingers brushed against the fabric that barely covered his throbbing cock, and his wolf howled for more.
He couldn’t resist pressing into the palm of her hand, breathing in her scent and her desire as if they were necessary for his survival. She grew bolder, wriggling her way under the gown and touching his hot flesh. He gasped and wrapped his fingers around her arm, which encouraged her to do the same. Only not to his arm.
“Oh god,” he groaned against her smiling lips, ready to flip her on her back and mount her but determined to go at her pace.
She stroked him once, twice…
Then a gust of fresh air slapped him in the face. Breaking free from their kiss, they both shot surprised looks at the door. The open door.
Warren stood there, red-faced and gaping, before he clapped a hand over his eyes.
“Gross!”