Losing Myself in You (13 page)

In one moment, it felt as though the world faded away and what was left was solely the two of them. Neither of their eyes wavered from one another. It was like they were both at a checkmate but neither of them dared to move because it would surely break the trance.

It didn't escape Marcus's sharp eyes just how beautiful Bridgette looked right now. A sliver of Marcus couldn't blame Bridgette's former and now injured dance partner to try something with her, but that still didn't excuse the fact that the man had touched Bridgette. And Bridgette was his.  His fingers tightened their hold on her. Hell, she was even marked as such. That was
his
bite on her neck. Just looking at it caused him to remember the sensations he had felt sinking his teeth into her flesh. He pulled her towards him, leading her off of the dance floor – pushing through the crowd, not even bothering to say excuse me - and down a secluded hallway lit by only dim lights, these one blood red. Surprisingly, Bridgette didn't fight him; instead she let him lead her off of the dance floor and down the empty hallway.  He only stopped when they were secluded enough to truly be alone, and pushed her back against the wall so she was forced to look at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled, narrowing his eyes into hers before placing his hands on the wall adjacent to both sides of her face.

Bridgette matched his stare with one of her own. "I was dancing," she said in a firm voice.

"That was more than just dancing," he said, his voice still low and husky.

"Yeah, on his part," Bridgette replied. "I don't know if you saw, but I was pushing him – You know what, never mind. It's none of your business. What I do with my life is of no concern to you."

"Actually," Marcus said, his tone threatening. "It's
exactly
my business. Despite your unawareness of the situation, you belong to me.
My
mark is on
your
neck." He reached out and grabbed the portion of her throat with his callused fingertips. "Right there," he stated.

"Just because you marked me doesn't mean I'm yours, by the way," Bridgette snapped. "God, I am so sick of this culture that gets off on dominating women. And then the women in
commercials or print ads or even in general seem to
enjoy
being dominated and then men think that women really wanted to be dominated which means that even though they're saying no they really means yes, and-"

Without warning, Marcus crushed his lips on Bridgette's, stopping her mid-rant and pressing his body against hers. Bridgette hated to admit it, but she felt her body naturally respond to his ministrations, and she couldn't help but press her lips against his own in return.

When they broke apart, Marcus's eyes were clouded with a haze of desire and he looked at her as he licked his bottom lip. "Did you know that you talk too damn much?" he asked, seemingly breathless.

"You're an ass," Bridgette said. "And I don't belong to you."

"You belong to me," he restated, this time his voice more firm, as though the argument was over and he had won. "And I belong to you."

"I don't want you," Bridgette said through gritted teeth, wishing her words would somehow get through to him.

"I highly doubt that," Marcus growled and captured her lips with his once again.

When Bridgette was making her speech about dominant men and submissive women, she really did mean what she was saying. She would love it one day for a culture or a species to emerge where the women were the authoritative figure, the pursuer, and she knew from multiple sociology classes that there were some cultures that did have role reversals, but they were small, tribal cultures and it wasn't likely that the Western conception of society was going to change any time soon.

However, upon feeling how possessive the kiss Marcus instilled on her lips, she felt her own body react to such carnal urges and realized that she didn't want to be dominated by any man but Marcus. She also wanted to be able to dominate him, if he was so willing.

"Tell me," Bridgette said when he released her lips despite wanting more upon realization that it was becoming too crucial to breathe. However, Marcus wasted no time touching her neck with his lips, dragging his tongue down the slender curve, and dropping one hand in order to grab her waist. "If a woman was to dominate you, would you be willing to be dominated by her?"

Marcus's lips cocked up into a smirk and he stopped, raising his eyes to lock with hers. "Would that be you?" he asked her, his eyes dropping to her lips. He wanted to touch them once more. "Would you be dominating me?"

Bridgette bit her bottom lip as she felt a familiar tremor delve down into her pelvis causing ripples to spread througho
ut her figure. "Yeah," she said, her voice raspy, "It would be me."

"Then I look forward to it," Marcus said, pushing his leg in between hers so her thighs spread apart. "You have no clarity over us wolves, do you? We love to dominate, but we, too, have no qualms about switching roles if we're with the people we trust." Before Bridgette could ask the obvious question that had accumulated on the tip of her tongue, Marcus brought his lips close to hers and murmured, "But, at this moment, I'm going to be the one dominating you, and you're going to enjoy yourself when I do. Hell, you might even ask me to do it again." He grinned arrogantly before slipping his tongue into Bridgette's mouth, demanding that she kiss him back.

He reached down and grabbed the back of her thighs in order to lift her up. Instinctively, Bridgette coiled her arms around his broad shoulders, pushing her back against the wall so she had something to lean on, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Do you want me?" he asked her, his breath already ragged, his lips still caressing the side of her neck.

She nodded, not able to let him know verbally just how much she desired him. In response, Bridgette pushed her fingers against his back, indicating that her answer was indeed yes.

"Say it," he told her seriously, before thrusting up so the hardness concealed by his denim jeans pushed against the inside of her thigh. "I want you to say it."

"I want you," she managed to say, but her patience for him was running thin. "I want you right now."

Marcus growled upon hearing her insistency, and released his grip on her thighs so all that was holding Bridgette up was her legs around his waist and her back against the wall. He quickly undid the button and zipper of his jeans before wrapping one strong arm around Bridgette’s waist again while the other reached under her skirt and his fingers caressed her
warmth encompassed by one silk thong. Bridgette bit her bottom lip and arched her back up even further until Marcus was successful of ridding her of her panties.

It wasn't long before he dropped his hand to support her waist once more, and thrust into her. Bridgette's nails sunk into Marcus's thick skin upon feeling him inside of her, but Marcus didn't seem to mind; in fact, if he was honest, it just enhanced the pleasure he was feeling of being inside of her again.

Bridgette had never had sex this way before. She had always wanted to try it, but her select few ex-boyfriends either weren't interested in such a position or they couldn't hold her up. Her eyes were still open, though they were in slits, and she noticed that Marcus wasn't even straining to carry her weight. He was incredibly strong… and incredibly beautiful.

It wasn't long before Bridgette felt herself reach her peak, and before she knew it, she released herself over Marcus as he continued to keep his pace. It w
as the sound she made coming when Marcus feel himself lose control of everything. He thrust up faster and deeper, wanting nothing more than to feel the very core of femininity.

After a moment, Marcus merely held her until he slowly slid out of her, and then he gently set her back down on the floor.

"We can't keep doing this," Bridgette murmured, her back still leaning against the wall for support. "And I'm not marrying you." That being said, Bridgette wanted nothing more than to keep giving herself over to Marcus but she knew she wasn't that type of girl. She couldn't keep doing this and she didn't want to lead him on.

Marcus frowned upon hearing her words, pushing his brow down low. His eyes flashed dangerously into Bridgette's. "If you don't marry me," he drawled; his voice low and intimidating once again. "Then you won't marry anybody."

Without warning, Bridgette's hand shot out and slapped Marcus across the face. The werewolf seemed surprised, and his hand went up to clutch his jaw, even though it hardly affected him when it came to pain.  She said nothing as she disentangled her body from his and disappeared down the hallway.  Marcus, again, didn’t try and stop her.  All he could do was watch her go.

It had been a few days, and Bridgette had yet to tell Kendall about what had transpired between her and Marcus at Nocturnal.
  Once she had left Marcus, she forced herself to dance with her friend as though nothing was wrong, but after a little while, she was over it.  Kendall hadn’t even questioned it when Bridgette asked to go home. She had wanted to say something, wanted to get everything off of her chest, but she couldn’t figure out the proper way to do so.  She couldn’t put her feelings into words when she didn’t know what she was even feeling.  Also, for whatever reason, something inside her said
it wasn't the best thing for her to do, especially when her superior kept bringing up the fact that she might be going back into the field. She didn't want to do anything to prevent that, because as much as she loved her job, she absolutely detested desk work. When she was younger, she had promised herself she would quit before she was forced to work in an office for eight hours a day, every day of the week. The only reason she continued to stay with the Nocturnal Defense Society was the chance that she would be sent back into the field.

It was a Tuesday when that finally happened.

"I know everything that has happened to you in the past few weeks must be rough for you," her superior, Bill, said after calling Bridgette into a private meeting that took place in his office.  It was plain and boring, just like Bill. "And I commend you on your determination to get back out there. Although, as much as I want to, Bridge…"

"What?" Bridgette asked, her fingers clutching the arms of her chair as she regarded her boss with eager eyes.
  She almost forgot how uncomfortable the chair was. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, no," Bill said, shaking his head. "I just feel uncomfortable asking this because… well because of everything that has happened. It seems Marcus Sterling is more powerful than we thought. I mean, obviously he has no problem turning a human –" He gestured at Bridgette with his hand.
–"into one of
them
. It’s also completely illegal. We tried to charge him with embezzling, but this is much more prominent, and the matter is pressing. I understand one of the pack members tried to kill you by pushing you into a pack of hungry wolves?"

Br
idgette nodded. "Yes," she said, hesitating slightly.  How did Bill know?  Did Dr. Gupta say anything? "But Marcus saved me."

"That's right," Bill murmured to himself. "He did, didn't he? See, that's why I'm worried about this mark on your neck. I know it gives you these feelings you wouldn't normally have. There's a connection between the two of you."

"I'm sorry," Bridgette said, obviously frustrated at Bill's lack of information. He always did this; he always dragged things along. "But what does this have anything to do with me going back into the field?"

"What I'm worried about," Bill said, his voice now firm. Bridgette had known Bill long enough to know that he was finally going to tell her what she wanted to hear. "Is where your head is. This mission doesn't involve simply arresting Marcus Sterling. We at the NDS have issued a Kill on
Site warrant for him.  An Alpha forcing himself on a human female, changing her nature?  That’s essentially murdering her humanity and forcing her to live as something else.  It’s unacceptable. It is imperative that we take him out and we are not sure if you can handle that. You would definitely be an ideal choice because you're already familiar with the layout of the mansion and we're hoping he might become distracted when he sees you."

Bridgette felt her heart drop and for whatever reason, she felt incredibly disconcerted about the whole thing. Could she really take part in a plan that would kill Marcus?

"So?" he asked her. "Are you ready to go back out in the field?"

---

The only reason Bridgette agreed to partake in such action was because she might be able to warn Marcus. Yes, it was completely going against the NDS, and there really was no excuse for it, but something inside of her felt that Marcus didn't deserve to die. Though the two fought like cats and dogs, Bridgette knew that on some level, he cared about her, and she cared about him in return.  She knew he didn’t
mean
to transform her.  It was biological, chemical, not rational. Maybe if she could get away from the group, she could just warn Marcus with no one on her team none the wiser…

By the time she and six other members of the Nocturnal Defense Society's field team pulled up to the mansion, Bridgette was sure Marcus could detect her in some way. Whether it was the thoughts tumbling in and out of her head, her rapidly beating heart, or even her scent,
she wasn't sure. But if he knew she was here, he must know she wasn't alone. Suddenly, an idea sprang into her mind, and she quickly got the attention of her fellow agents.

"Hey," she said, dropping her voice into a whisper. "I have a plan." Her team crouched down and surrounded Bridgette so they could listen to her.
  The mansion was a few feet away, the white entrance easily detected through the slivers of the trees.  She knew guards were patrolling, knew she and her team were only free because Marcus probably gave them orders to do so. She waited until she had everyone's attention before continuing. "I know for an absolute fact that if I go in by myself, Marcus and his pack won't harm me in any way. The mark on my neck prevents that from happening." She wasn't exactly sure if that was the truth or not, but it sounded plausible, and as a result, she went with it. "I can go in by myself, maybe I could talk to him, distract him, while you guys surround the mansion so no one can go in or out."

At first, her team didn't seem to agree that that was the best plan, but after another moment of convincing, Bridgette managed to win them over. It wasn't long before she was heading over to the front doors, her team already camouflaging with their
woodland surroundings. Once she reached the door, she wasn't sure whether or not she should knock, go in… However, before she could contemplate a necessary means of action, the door opened and Marcus stood there, looking down at her with hard, hazel eyes and his jaw locked.

"What do you want?" he asked. His gravelly was voice tainted with something Bridgette could not yet pinpoint.

Instead of answering, Bridgette placed her palm firmly on his chest and pushed him back so she could step inside the manor and quickly close the door behind her. Marcus looked like he was about to re-ask his question, but Bridgette took her hand that had been on his chest and placed her index finger on his lips.

"You're in danger," she said, her voice just above a whisper. She wasn't sure what kind of technology her team had and wanted to take every precaution necessary. He raised a brow, indicating that she should continue. "They came here to kill you."

Marcus looked as though he didn't believe her. "Your team is being ensnared by my pack as we speak," he said. "They only waited until you were safely out of the way.  How am I supposed to believe you? You just walk away; you're always walking away from me." He seemed slightly offended by this, but his face refused to show it.

"Trust me," Bridgette told him, and Marcus was slightly caught off-guard by the way Bridgette's eyes seemed
to plead with his. She wasn’t one to bed, but she needed Marcus to understand how important this was. "This is your life we're talking about."

"And you’
ve come here to save it?" Marcus asked. "Come on, Bridgette, am I really supposed to believe that
the NDS is threatening my life and you're here to save me? Why? Why would you come save me? I want an answer." He demanded roughly.

"Because I care about you, all right?"
Bridgette said sharply.  She wasn’t quite ready to admit something so personal aloud, especially in front of him, but she had to convince him somehow. Marcus looked surprised, but the hardness in his face softened.

Before either of them could speak, another wolf walked into the living room. "Marcus," the teenage boy said, his voice slightly breathless. "Marcus, we have the humans in the basement, like before. What should we do with them?"

"Leave them for now," he said, his eyes never wavering from Bridgette's. "I will discuss terms and conditions with their representative here. Afterwards, I will give you orders."

The boy nodded, his eyes wavering between the two, still unsure. However, he knew better than to argue with the Alpha, so he quickly disappeared.

"What do you want?" Oddly enough, Bridgette's voice did not sound defensive or affronted, but rather hopeful, maybe even curious.

"You," Marcus said, not as strained as it had been. "I want you to stay here. I want you to give this whole thing specific consideration. I promise I will not touch you if it is against your wishes. You will be a guest in my home, and if in two weeks you do not wish to marry me, you are free to leave. I will not stop you, and once you are gone, I will not follow you or come after you." Determination was etched into his features as he spoke, his words echoing through Bridgette’s mind.

"I thought you didn't want to marry me," Bridgette said, her voice low once again. She was trying to read his eyes, searching for all of the answers she had yet to ask.

"I thought you didn't care about me," Marcus countered, and masterfully hid a smirk by pressing his lips together and forcing his brows up.

Bridgette was silent for a moment, hoping that her face wasn't red. "So what I'm agreeing to," she said, "is to stay here for two weeks as a guest in your house. It doesn't mean I'm going to marry you, and you'll release my co-workers from your house without any harm caused?" She looked at him with a pointed stare.

"You have my word," he told her firmly, before sticking out his hand. "Trust me."

The fact that he reiterated her words was not wasted on Bridgette. It took her only a moment before she nodded her head and placed her hand in his.

"Okay," she murmured, shaking hands with him. "I agree."