More Blazing Bedtime Stories: Once Upon a Mattress (5 page)

She lived a few streets away and apparently assumed this town was a safe one. She seemed fearless as she walked home, alone, late at night, without a care in the world beyond the pain in her tired feet and aching arms.

You’re not safe
. The words screamed in his head yet didn’t emerge from his vocal cords.

A second later, he was proved right. He spotted a movement in the shadows ahead of her. Five, seven paces, no more.

The danger. The presence he’d sensed stalking her waited directly in Penny’s path.

Lucas didn’t think, didn’t shout, didn’t do anything except run, silent, furious, afraid for her. His feet nearly flew over the street even as rage clouded his vision and grabbed him in its blind, ruthless grip.

But he didn’t make it. Even at his fastest, he still wasn’t quick enough to stop Penny from being grabbed and violently hurled to the ground.

I
T HAD BEEN
one long, miserable day. Nonstop customers and nonstop drama had led to a nonstop headache. By the time ten o’clock had rolled around, Penny had wanted nothing
more than a steamy-hot shower and an icy-cold beer, both of which awaited her at her small house a few blocks away.

The attack came out of nowhere. She had been oblivious to any threat. Entirely comfortable back here in LeBeaux, she hadn’t foreseen the dangers she would have routinely guarded against in New York or Chicago. She had simply meandered into the path of trouble. And between one step and the next, she found it.

“No,” she cried as a dark shape hurtled from between two buildings, launching itself at her. Her assailant tackled her to the ground. She cried out as her shoulder hit the cement hard and his big form hit her even harder, covering her, pinning her.

He grabbed a fistful of her short hair and twisted, slamming her head down. Pain rocketed through her, but she didn’t waste any breath trying to scream. Instead, she reacted instinctively. Operating purely on adrenaline, she fought back as if her life depended on it.

Which it might
.

“Let me go!” Penny curved her fingers into talons and tried to rake her attacker’s face, which she couldn’t make out in the darkness. Drawing her knee up as quickly as she could, she aimed for his groin, knowing she’d hit home when he grunted in pain.

“Bitch,” he said in a hoarse whisper, obviously trying to disguise his voice. But it didn’t matter. The reek of booze and the rank smell of his breath told her immediately who had attacked her. It was Frank, the grabby oilfield roughneck who’d come in with Eddie this morning. He obviously hadn’t gone back out into the field, instead lurking here, lying in wait to finish what he’d started this morning.

“Let me go.” She tried to wriggle away, hoping she’d hurt him enough to gain a few seconds head start, but his fingers clenched painfully around her arms.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“No, but
you
are,” someone else snarled. Frank was lifted off her with abrupt, brute force. “You’re a dead man!”

Penny rolled out of the way, looking up in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar profile.

Lucas Wolf
. The stranger who had so affected her this morning had come to her rescue, grabbing her attacker by the throat. He shook the man, holding onto the front of a flannel shirt and slamming his fist into the bastard’s face. Frank had been caught by surprise, but quickly regained himself. He tried to fight back, swinging wildly, something glittering in his hand.

“Watch out, I think he has a knife,” she called.

Another blow from Lucas’s fist and the glittering thing went flying to shatter against the ground.
Broken glass.

A car exited a nearby alley, briefly illuminating the scene in its harsh headlights. Just a flash, then it was gone, speeding away.

But that quick glimpse was enough to stop Penny’s heart. Given what she saw in that flash of headlights, she had to remind herself to breathe, not believing what her eyes were telling her.

It had to have been a reflection of the car’s hazard lights that made Lucas’s eyes glow red. Or else she’d taken a harder blow to the head than she’d thought.

But there was one thing she wasn’t imagining. Lucas’s long, thick hair hung down around his face, which was grizzled and dark with a new-grown beard. And his lips were pulled back in a grimace, revealing sharp, white teeth as he audibly growled at the man with whom he fought. His expression defined fury.

The encounter was over within another minute. Despite landing a punch on Lucas’s face, Frank soon realized he was far outmatched, dealing with an opponent who looked driven by pure bloodlust. After a blow sent Frank spinning several feet, he took advantage of the distance and took off at a dead run.

Lucas took a step, hunched forward, his powerful body leaning as if he planned to run the other man down like a hunter after fleeing prey. Then he hesitated and looked back at her.

Penny was still on the ground. A little dazed, a lot stunned.
And she’d probably have one hell of a headache tomorrow. Not from the blow to the head, but because she intended to go home and have a few shots of tequila to wipe out the crazy thoughts that had been going through her mind for the past few minutes.

Thoughts about those reddish eyes and that snarl on his face. The way Lucas Wolf had looked almost feral. The long, wild hair. But the strangest thought of all? That she wasn’t afraid. Not for herself, anyway.

Lucas’s rage seemed to ease as he let the stranger go and hunched down beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked, his tone gruff, yet laced with concern.

Penny simply stared.

“Princess?”

“Jeez, would you lay off the Princess stuff? Call me Penny, okay?” Realizing she sounded like a flaming bitch, not exactly the appropriate reaction to someone who’d probably saved her from a serious assault, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m a little shaken up.”

He didn’t give her a moment’s warning before he scooped her up into his arms, rising to his feet and cradling her against his chest. He acted as though she weighed no more than a baby.

“Hey, what are you…”

“The hospital or your house?”

She stared up at that rugged face, but couldn’t see him well in the darkness. She wanted to glimpse the gold in those brown eyes, and a ghost of a smile on his sensual mouth. But the eyes shone black in the night and his mouth was compressed and hard. Despite the care he was taking of her, anger still enveloped the man.

“Penny? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

Finally realizing he was waiting for her to make a decision, she shook her head once.

“What about your head?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled, lifting a hand to touch the small lump already rising behind her ear. Her fingers came away flecked with a small amount of moisture.
Blood. Oh God.

Her head started to spin. She hated the sight of blood. Hated the smell of it. The feel of it. Hated anything to do with it. It was her one weakness.

And suddenly, like some vapid heroine in an old movie, her eyes drifted closed and she felt herself sag heavier in his arms. She came within a breath of fainting, but somehow, when he clutched her even tighter and she felt the strong, steady, reassuring beat of his heart, she didn’t do it.

“Hospital,” he snapped.

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted. “I’m not badly hurt. Just a little stunned.” The fact that she hadn’t eaten a thing today didn’t help.

Nor did the thought that she’d seen this man’s eyes glowing red a few minutes ago.

She swallowed. “The truth is, I get really woozy at the sight of blood.”

“Then you’d better close your eyes again,” he muttered.

But he didn’t say it soon enough. The moon peeked out from behind a cloud, and she suddenly got a better look at the man holding her so carefully in his massive arms. At the abrasions on one cheek. At the trail of blood dripping freely from the cheekbone down, likely nicked by broken glass.

This time, there was no stopping it. Darkness clouded her vision and that sense of dizziness she’d been fighting washed over her completely. It took away thought and fear and reason.

And consciousness.

O
NE OF THE FIRST
things he was going to do once Princess Penelope regained consciousness was lecture her about her security. Even with her in his arms, his single kick had busted the flimsy lock on her front door. Prowling around the house—after he’d lain her on her bed—he’d found the window in the bathroom unlocked. Not that her window locks were of much use, anyway.

She didn’t have a single weapon, as far as he could tell. If she had to defend herself, the best she could do was to grab one of the dusty, unused frying pans from the kitchen.

“Do you have
any
sense of self-preservation?” he asked her still form.

Lucas glanced toward the bed, then back into her bathroom mirror as he scraped a flimsy plastic razor over his cheek. It wouldn’t do for long, given the full moon, but he didn’t want to scare the woman to death the minute she opened her eyes and noticed that his beard had grown a couple of inches from this morning. A half inch of that since he’d rescued her.

Adrenaline, the chase, the fight…they sped things up.

“If he had been smarter, the bastard could have been here, inside, waiting for you to get home.”

The thought made that roiling surge of anger rise in him again, but he quickly shoved it away. He’d deal with the attacker later. Lucas had his scent. The man wouldn’t be able to hide from Lucas’s rage no matter which side of the border he was on.

“What?” she whispered.

“Finally.” Dropping the razor, he approached the bed. As
he stared down at her, he noted the color in her cheeks. When he’d wet a cloth to clean her cut, he’d also taken a minute to wash all the makeup—not to mention dirt and gravel—off her face.

She was, as he’d expected, beyond beautiful.

He wondered if she even realized it. If the clothes, the makeup, the attitude, were all because she didn’t care how she looked, or because she
did
care and didn’t want anyone else to realize how striking she truly was.

He suspected the latter. She’d been hiding in plain sight.

She blinked a few times. “How long have I been out?”

“Minutes. Ten at most.”

She shifted and slowly sat up, looking at him with frank disbelief. “And in ten minutes, you carried me three blocks home, broke into my house, put me to bed, then had time for a
shave?
”

He answered with a shrug. Because, yes, that’s what had happened. Her slight weight hadn’t slowed him down.

Penny continued to stare up at him. The confusion slowly left her face, and color entered it as her gaze grew more intimate. She parted her lips to breathe and the pulse in her throat, which he could see—and almost hear—fluttered.

God, the woman really needed to learn how to hide what she was thinking. Considering he was trying like hell to keep his own secrets, knowing how much she wanted him didn’t help.

Later. Want me later. When I don’t have to be strong enough to resist you.
He had to be strong now. Not only because he still had a job to do—bringing her home—but because he couldn’t take what the woman was offering until she understood exactly
who
she was offering it to.

She wasn’t entirely happy about it either. Her small jaw stiffened, as if she needed to imbue herself with resolve. “I can’t believe you used my razor.”

He shrugged. “I’m not worried about using something that has come in contact with your legs.” Far, far from it.

More of that color appeared, more of that confusion. More of that feisty attitude. “Yeah, well, how do you know my
legs
are all I use it on? Huh? Maybe I use it somewhere a whole lot more intimate than that.”

He considered her words for a moment, then realized what she meant. This time, he was sure his face filled with color, so hot was the explosion that rocked through him. His heart was definitely beating harder, his breaths thick, each one tasting like
her
.

“That I’d like to see,” he admitted before he could stop himself. He’d heard of women over here sporting that smooth, shorn look, but he’d never actually seen it himself. The trend might eventually make its way over to Elatyria—with the number of travelers back and forth between the lands on the rise, some other customs were certainly making their way across.

Frankly, he could have done without
ever
seeing a gnome with a one-inch ear gauge.

She sputtered, rising from the bed. “I was kidding.”

Shoving away a flash of disappointment, he insisted, “You don’t have to get up to defend yourself from me. I wasn’t about to rip your clothes off to see if you were telling the truth.”

Those lavender eyes hadn’t darkened with fright; she didn’t fear him. Which was good, she didn’t need to. Although how she could know that, he couldn’t say. He wondered if she felt it too, the instant connection. The certainty that they were supposed to be together. It went beyond mere wanting. Though, right now, mere wanting was pretty powerful in and of itself.

“I’m sorry, I’m being a shrew. You bring out the beast in me for some reason.”

Mutual.

“You saved me from something pretty awful tonight.”

He frowned at the thought. “He won’t get away with it.”

“I know. I’ll contact the sheriff in the morning. But I doubt he’s anywhere near here. He probably won’t stop running until he hits the Gulf of Mexico.”

“He can run as far as he wants to,” he muttered.

“Anyway, thank you, Lucas. For saving me, for bringing me
back here, taking care of me.” She moved closer, the soft smell of her perfume filling every molecule of air between them.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice just as low.

He didn’t know what she intended. At least, not until she rose on tiptoe and leaned toward his face. Saying nothing, she brushed her soft lips across his in a touch as fleeting as a caress from a summer breeze.

Lucas gritted his teeth and steeled his will. Fisting his hands by his sides, he used every ounce of his power to remain still, not grab her in his arms and kiss her with all the deep hunger he’d felt for her since the moment he’d seen her.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, his throat tight.

He expected to hear a stammering response—
It was a thank-you kiss, an expression of my gratitude
. Instead, he got pure honesty. Pure Penny.

“I wanted to.”

Some deep-rooted masochistic gene made him growl, “Do you want to again?”

She nodded once. “Yeah. A
lot
.”

With a groan, Lucas gave up all resistance. The invisible restraints that had seemed to bind him erupted in an explosion of pure hunger. He wrapped one arm around her waist, cupping her chin in the other hand. Dragging her up, he bent to meet her, and their lips crashed together and parted.

As Penny’s warm tongue thrust against his in deep, hungry tastes, he swallowed down the wild, untamed flavor of her. He tilted her head to one side, his to the other, needing to go deeper, wanting to devour her whole, from the inside out.

They kissed deeply, paused to gasp for air, kissed again. Penny pressed against him, her soft body molding against his. He couldn’t stop himself from lowering his hand, brushing it down her neck.

“Oh, please, keep touching me,” she whispered against his lips, arching up toward his fingers.

As if he could stop. Lucas slid his hand down, determined
to be careful, not to hurt her the way he knew he could, especially at this time of the month. When he wanted to be…wild.

Brushing the soft curve of one breast, he let his thumb slide down over its taut tip, which thrust provocatively against the filmy shirt.

She hissed when he reached his prize and plucked at it.

“Oh, God, yes.”

He kissed her deeply again, sucking her tongue into his mouth, imitating what he wanted to do to her nipple. And her sensitive clit, which he was dying to see, touch, taste.

She didn’t have to beg him to give her what she wanted. He knew by her tiny whimpers, the cries in her throat. Without thought, without planning, he tugged the fabric up, lifting his mouth from hers just far enough to pull the shirt all the way off her. Then he touched her again, feeling warm, puckered flesh.

Plus something else.

“What the…” he muttered, looking at the beautiful breast in his hand. Perfectly formed, pert and lush. And
bejewelled
.

“What the hell have you done to yourself, woman?” he asked, somehow pushing the words out of a throat that felt too tight to keep bringing necessary air into his lungs. Because while part of him wanted to spank her for marring her perfect body so painfully, another part was sure he’d never seen anything as wickedly erotic in his life.

Two pretty silver rings hung from the tips of Penny Mayfair’s breasts. The Princess of Riverdale had pierced her nipples. But from her rapturous cries as she thrust harder against his hand and ground her groin against him, pain was the
last
thing she was thinking about. Which meant she had done it for her own pleasure. She liked the sensations it wrought.

Her fingers twined in his long hair, tugging him down her body. Lucas could no more refuse than a starving beggar could turn his back on a feast. He pushed her back onto the bed, dropped to kneel between her legs, and buried his face in her bare stomach. Licking, biting lightly, he worked his way up, rubbing his cheek against the under-curve of one
breast. He again ordered himself to be careful, to go slowly and not hurt her, even though a primal need urged him to be rough and hard. Fast and demanding.

He managed to keep himself under control, although he didn’t know how. Nor could he say for how long he’d be able to, either.

“Please, do it!” she ordered, sounding frantic as she tugged at his hair and arched toward his mouth.

Patience was a virtue, but his was never strong when the moon was full. He groaned before moving his lips to one perfect tip, covering it, sucking hard, swirling his tongue around the pretty silver ring. He tasted warm metal and warmer, sweet skin.

“Yes,” she said with a deep sigh.

While tasting one, he plucked the ring on the other breast with his fingers. She hissed when he increased the pressure, tightening her fingers in his hair to keep him where she wanted him, urging him to suck deeper, to tweak harder. Her legs twined around his waist, the core of her landing unerringly on the long ridge of his rock-hard cock. She instinctively thrust toward him.

Lucas groaned and thrust back, taunting them both. The musky, feminine smell of her overwhelmed his senses. He had to close his eyes and breathe her in, memorizing her scent, imprinting it on his brain and in every cell of his body.

“More. Give me more, Lucas.”

He wanted to. God, did he want to. But as he opened his eyes and saw his own dark, swarthy hand against her pale skin, already reddened under his aggressive touch, something—some strong, deep instinct—made him stop. He couldn’t take her until she knew. Couldn’t claim her fully until she was aware of how much of herself she was giving.

All
of herself. Forever.

With strength he didn’t know he had, Lucas pulled back, thrust a frustrated hand through his hair, then rose to his feet. “I didn’t come here to get some kind of payback.” He staggered away, watching as she gasped for breath and slowly
brought herself back under control. “You were unconscious not long ago.”

It took a full minute, then, finally, her voice shaking, she said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Not meeting his eyes, she grabbed her top and pulled it back on, covering that beautiful body.

Good. He didn’t know if he could have kept up his resolve for another minute if she hadn’t.

“I’m not the type to go around jumping on strangers.”

“We’re not strangers.”

She didn’t respond, not trying to argue. How could she? Something inside her had to be reaching out, responding to her heart’s instinctive knowledge that he was part of her world—her
real
world, the one she’d been denied since childhood.

She’d recognized him,
known
him, at first sight, too. Now that she’d been in his arms, there could no longer be any doubt.

“You’re hurt,” he explained gruffly, seeing that she was shaken by his decision not to take what she had offered.

“I’m okay, really,” she said, a forced smile appearing on her mouth as she tried to put things back on more normal footing. She was good at it, hiding her reactions, any hurt feelings. Queenly, in fact, in how easily she moved past the moment and brought the temperature back from blazing to merely burning. “A kiss of gratitude, that’s all it was.”

“Sure.”
Uh-huh. Right
.

She flushed, then squared her shoulders and changed the subject. “So, is playing hero part of your job description?”

“I’m no hero. And you’re not going to be as appreciative when you see that I kicked in your front door.”

Surprisingly, she laughed. “There’s a key under the mat.”

“Are you
determined
to be attacked?”

“I can…”

“Take care of yourself. Yeah, I know.”

She hesitated. “Except tonight. So thanks again,” she said with a simple nod. Again, he caught a flash of her bloodline in the grace of the gesture, the way she held herself.

He admired that. But what he wanted was the wild woman who’d been writhing beneath him a few minutes ago. Not a princess, but a female in heat, at the mercy of her own hunger.

Lucas gritted his teeth, thrusting the images out of his head. Not only did he have a job to do, the woman had just been violently attacked. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he finally managed to ask. “Your head, is it paining you?”

“A little, but I’ll take a couple of ibuprofen.”

Brushing past him to the bathroom, she opened a mirrored cabinet and removed a small bottle. Her gaze passed briefly over a blood-tinged washcloth and she swayed on her feet.

Lucas crossed the room in an instant and steadied her with a hand on the small of her back.

“God you’re fast!”

“You’re still dizzy.”