Chase Me (35 page)

A hungry growl rumbled from his throat. His hips gave an instinctive lurch as he landed between her upraised knees, in the cradle her body made for him. Her demanding groan nearly unmanned him. He could smell her arousal, almost taste it on his tongue.

He yearned. He burned. She hadn’t said the words, but his mate wanted him.

“Gabe,” she whispered against his lips. “Close the door.”

“Huh?” Fighting the lust pounding through his system, he tried to focus on her words.

“Get the door.”

Shit, his feet were hanging out of the car. Scrambling to a sitting position, he yanked the door closed. Being that Lorin had parked in the overflow lot, there were no other vehicles parked nearby. Her industrious hand was making very quick work of the button at his waistband, tugging down his zipper. Its opening whoosh sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet cocoon of the truck cab. Reaching into the V she’d created, she burrowed under the elastic waistband of his white cotton briefs, cupping his erection in hot, possessive hands.

“Are we really going to do this here?” he asked between gritted teeth.

“You can wait?” Tilting her head, she shot him a sideways glance that sent her hair drifting over his cock.

He gulped, staring at his mate’s strong, capable hands stroking him with a distinct aura of ownership. The civilized man inside told him to stop this now, to take her someplace more romantic, but damn it, there was nothing civilized about the frantic need rocketing through his body, coalescing in the hard, blunt flesh surging in her hands.

“Have you ever made love in a car, Gabe?” she murmured.

Her expression was positively riveting. Lust. Humor. A hot, edgy hunger—and a tenderness that shredded him. She’d said “made love”—again. Suddenly he felt ten feet tall, like she’d handed him the magic sword that would slay all of her dragons. He stared at his glorious mate, the woman he loved.

“Gabriel, I asked you a question.”

He gulped as her hot breath teased his violently aroused flesh. “No. I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

A tiny, feline smile curved her lips. “You’re about to.” And she took him into the wild heat of her mouth.

***

For long minutes, Lorin lost herself in textures, tastes, scents, and sounds: iron-hard flesh under hot, silky skin, so soft and slippery in her mouth. Her own harsh breathing. The tip of her nose brushing against a tangle of hair with every downward stroke. Salt on her tongue. Musk, sultry and deep, mixed with the rain-clean scent of the fabric softener sheets he’d dried his clothes with.

Gabe clutched her head, his fingernails biting into her skull with a delicious sting. “You’re killing me,” he strangled out. With a growl she felt and heard, he tugged on her head, pulling her up and away from his lap. She released his cock with an audible, wet pop, and found herself bodily lifted, tipped, and laid flat on her back, her elbow bumping into the truck’s cracked plastic steering wheel. Gabe pulled her T-shirt up and off, and the front clasp of her bra dissolved under his touch. He peeled the cups back, stared at her bared flesh with hot eyes, and then possessively cupped her breasts with his hands.

Her groan of reaction blended with his. So warm, so strong. His fingertips plucked at her nipples. Before she could moan, before she could clutch at his broad shoulders, he tore at the button fly of her jeans. The jeans were old friends, flour-soft from too many washings, and the buttons easily slipped free. A frustrated growl. Tug, tug. She felt the slick vinyl truck seat against her bare ass.

Lifting her legs, Gabe yanked off her shoes and pants, dropping them carelessly to the passenger side floor.

Hmm.
Her position opened up a lot of room on the truck seat—and created some intriguing possibilities. Leaving her legs upright, she slowly spread them, planting her feet against the ceiling of the truck cab, exposing her damp need.

He simply… stared. His fingers twitched, like he couldn’t wait to touch her—but for some reason, he held himself back.

What did he see with that hot, possessive gaze? Could he see how much she loved him? Reaching up, Lorin cupped his lust-flushed cheekbone in her palm.

Gabe shoved his jeans and underwear down around his hips, scrambled into place between her legs. But instead of plunging, he licked her jawbone, the tendons in her neck, the underside of her chin, her ears.

And her lips. Oh, he licked her lips like she was a decadent treat before slipping his tongue inside. His succulent kiss, his gentle touch, was positively maddening. His hot, blunt flesh teased the wet opening to her body.

“Lorin,” he whispered against her lips.

That’s all he said—her name—but something in his rumbly voice, something about the voluptuous pleasure etching his face, made her blink back tears.

Finally, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. After one final, hot stare, he lowered his head and carefully clamped his teeth against the sensitive juncture where her shoulder met her neck.

His teeth tightened. His cock plunged. And he rode them into sweet, frantic oblivion.

As Beddoe strode through the dark and crowded gambling den, the clatter of credits clacking off on the machines barely registered. His breath dragged through pinched nostrils. His heels punished the floor with each step. His fangs were buried in his own inner lip, but even the taste of blood couldn’t temper the sting of failure clawing up from his stomach.

All the deprivation. All the secrecy. After all his careful plans, all the risks he’d taken, Lorcan had just waltzed in and—

“Captain Beddoe! Captain! Did you see? I won!”

Beddoe stopped and stared at the meaty hand resting on his forearm. He raised his head to gaze, expressionless, at the man’s sweaty, excited face.

The eagle-eyed employee accompanying the man to the Winner’s Circle shot him a wary look. “Come with me, Sirrah.”

“But—”

She tugged the man safely out of range with a too-bright smile. “Let’s go claim your winnings!”

He resumed walking again, his hard cadence at odds with the opulent surroundings. Delicate scents masked the pheromones and chemicals pumped into the air to reduce inhibitions and erode judgment. Scantily clad, galaxy-class beauties carried trays of food and drink to customers attired in glittering gowns, elegant formal wear, skinsuits, and jumpsuits. But it was a mirage. An illusion. Open the wrong door and you’d see the grime, hear the ominous clanks.

What else could possibly go wrong?

“Captain?” Ta’al had drawn alongside him, and he hadn’t noticed. Her hair was pulled back in a severe twist, throwing her cheekbones and jawline into sharp focus. The duty suit hugged her curves faithfully, lending the utilitarian uniform a sensuality that its designer likely hadn’t intended. She could easily work the entertainment floors if she wasn’t such a talented officer and pilot. How lucky he was to have her in his service.

“Yes, Ta’al.” He looked at his timepiece. Minchin should have come on duty over a cycle ago.

She handed him a commchip. “Urgent confidential communication from Lorcan Industries, Sirrah.”

My
new
assignment.
With some fast thinking and even faster talking, he’d convinced Lorcan that a thorough territorial survey should be undertaken before Lorcan Industries considered making such a significant expenditure, buying himself more time to find the cryotube. Lorcan had agreed, stating that he’d have the most recent territorial survey materials sent to him at the
TonTon.

He clicked the chip into his comm plant and quickly skimmed. The last survey, performed from far orbit over three hundred Earth years ago, described an agrarian society, population approximately 700 million humanoids, and a planet in pristine condition. A planned fact-finding expedition had never occurred, citing budgetary issues. Beddoe pursed his lips. Lorcan was, of course, most interested in water, but his scientists were excited about the opportunity to study a civilization on the cusp of technological breakthrough.

They’d missed observing the nascent event for themselves by mere decades, but the environmental damage that almost always accompanied the key cultural stepping-stone had already started. He’d exaggerate the damage when he filed his own report.

He honed in on the most recent update: “Smugglers’ network reports homing beacon, possible signature Pritchard/
Arkapaedis
. Investigate and report.”

There was his trump card, exposed and played.

This
was what else could possibly go wrong.

***

“Andi, you have to help me out here.”

Lorin punched the speakerphone button and hung up the cabin landline’s handset, leaving both hands free to repair the balky kerosene lamp. Andi must be psychic. Her call had come at just the right time—Gabe was stuck on a conference call, dialed in from the workroom—and right about now, talking to a wolf couldn’t hurt. After almost a week of hot days and even hotter nights—with Gabe fulfilling every sexual desire she’d ever had and some she hadn’t been aware she possessed—she still had a restless, edgy twitch she just couldn’t shake no matter how many miles she ran.

This was no mere adrenal system spike. These jitters were emotional in origin, and she didn’t have the first clue what to do about them.

She held a hand to her jumpy stomach. “Why do I feel this way?”

“You really don’t know?”

“No,” she nearly snarled. “Please enlighten me.” Andi’s merry giggles echoed from the phone’s speaker. “You are
such
a bitch.”

“Thank you,” Andi said. Her laughter gradually subsided. “Baby, you’re in love.”

“That’s what I was afraid you were going to say.” She gave the screwdriver a vicious twist. “Scattered, jumpy, half sick to my stomach. Why on earth do people yearn to feel this way?” She hadn’t gotten much work done in the last week. Her concentration was absolutely shot.

“You’re so spoiled.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’ve dated and discarded so many extraordinary men, with every relationship entirely on your terms. No one’s ever asked you for more. No man’s ever pushed you to offer them more than your hot bod. To work at it. You’ve always been the one to set the terms, and to move on first.”

“I work plenty hard at it, and it wasn’t enough,” Lorin snapped. “Gabe’s already broken it off once.”

“It’s okay to be scared, baby—”

“And what about Rafe? He’s the one who called things off between us, not me.”

“Rafe doesn’t count,” Andi scoffed. “You were both between lovers, scratching a mutual itch. He’s safe. Gabe isn’t.”

Silence hummed while she filled the lamp with kerosene. “Gabe wants me to tell him how I feel, to share my emotions?” she grumbled. “Why was I practically the last person to find out what was wrong with his eyes?” Even Krispin Woolf had more information than she’d had, and that really chapped her ass. “He’s a fine one to talk. The one time I saw his wolf, he acted like it hadn’t happened at all.”

“You saw Gabe’s wolf?”

“I woke up to Gabe’s wolf,” she corrected. “Then I fell back asleep, and by the time I woke up again, he’d shifted back. Pretended nothing happened.” Then they’d made love, so slow and sweet that the memory of it still—

“You saw Gabe’s wolf,” Andi repeated.

“Yeah.” What was the big deal?

“Lorin, it’s been years since even his
family
has seen his wolf. I know for a fact that Kayla never did. She complained about it to anyone who’d listen. It was a sore spot in their relationship.”

“What a bitch,” she muttered. Gabe was well rid of a girlfriend who had such loose lips. “So he didn’t shift just because he was drunk?”

“Lorin, think. He’s so vulnerable when he shifts. No glasses, remember? He can’t see.” Andi paused, considering. “I think he felt safe with you.”

Something inside her warmed, stretched.

“Lorin, the man told you he loves you, and you haven’t said it back. Seems to me that he’s taking all the risks here.” She paused again. “Do you love him, Lorin?”

“I—”

“Jacoby told me what you said at the Council meeting, about tomorrow being promised to no one. Were they just empty words?”

No—and having nearly died herself, Andi had reason to know.

“He loves you, Lorin. You love him. What would your life be like without him in it?”

Empty. Lonely. “Damn it,” she whispered.

“Find your gonads and go get him, girl. Call me when you come up for air.” Andi hung up without bothering to say good-bye.

Sweat bloomed on her upper lip, and her stomach writhed like a clutch of garter snakes. Andi was right. She was being a coward. She loved Gabe, and the next move was hers.

If she could only figure out what that move should be.

***

Gabe backed away from the open window, leaning against the picnic table on the cabin’s deck. They say that eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves, but sometimes they do. Yeah, most people wouldn’t consider a muttered “damn it” a declaration of love, but he and Lorin weren’t most people.