Season of the Wolf (BBW Holiday Romance) (3 page)

As he rose
, he heard the sound of the passenger door opening. Before he could warn her to stay inside, she’d already opened it and sank knee deep into the snow. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Priscilla
instantly bristled under Jason’s hostile tone. Then she moaned as the snow closed around her feet and legs. Damn, the white stuff was cold. She immediately regretted her decision to leave the comfort of the nice, warm cab. “I thought I could help.”

“You could have helped by staying in the cab, woman.”

“Yeah, well, too late for that. Can we push it back on the road?” She tried to huddle against the SUV to conserve her warmth. He moved to her side, cutting through the large drifts of snow as if walking through water. She breathed a sigh of thanks when he stepped in front of her, blocking out most of the wind and snow.

“Yeah, I can get it back on the road, but it won’t do any good.”

“Is the snow that bad?” She looked up at him, blinking as snowflakes landed on her lashes. For one instant she forgot the wind, the cold, everything, as time seemed to slow down. He was bare headed, exposed to the elements and looked wonderful, his dark hair lifted by the wind. Hunger struck her. Hunger for this man’s touch. This man’s kiss.

“It’s not going to get any better, that’s f
or damn sure.”

He reached out and pulled her hat down on her head.
She’d forgotten to put on her scarf and gloves. Her hands were shoved in the pockets of her jacket. His body seemed to generate heat and she stepped closer. What would it feel like to have another spirit inside you? One that made you stronger, faster and apparently warmer. Her lips curled a little at his tone. He sounded more like a grumpy bear than a snow-stranded wolf.

“What are we going to do?”

“Do you trust me, Priscilla?”

“Of course.”
There was no hesitation in her answer and sincerity rang in her voice.

“Thank you.” Having the faith and trust of your mate was one of the most important things to a wolf.
Besides her love and devotion. And the need for hot, rough sex.

“There’s a cabin about two miles up the road. Less if we cut through the woods.”

Two miles? As she did many times during her life, Priscilla regretted the fact that she hated exercise and rarely did so. She knew if she exercised more and ate less her thighs wouldn’t be quite so round and her butt not so large. But she hated exercise almost as much as she loved food.

The prospect of walking two miles in the falling snow was not her idea of a fun time. “Okay.” She smiled her acceptance of the situation to him.
She’d already figured out their choices were limited and now that the vehicle was damaged, the option to stay in the SUV was gone.

“Good girl.”

Her stomach quivered and she was almost embarrassed to admit her pussy clenched just a little at his deep, rough words. She could imagine him saying those same exact words when he praised her for obeying his commands in bed. Looking at his tall, towering frame, she knew there’d be very few, if any, orders she wouldn’t obey. When it came to sex. Otherwise, she was still a pretty independent woman who didn’t like to be told what to do. Like now.

He was saying something but her
lascivious thoughts had made her miss some of it. When he bent to pick her up in his arms, she backed away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to carry you to the cabin.”

“Oh, no you’re not. I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

“You’re going to get wet and be frozen solid by the time we get there.”

She didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what he was leaving unsaid was the glaring fact that he could probably shift and be in the cabin before a roaring fire in no time flat. She, a weak—overweight—human female would slow him down considerable.

“I’m already wet and frozen,” she bit out sarcastically.
“I can walk.”

She felt a moment of guilt, realizing her
refusal would delay him reaching the cabin. Then she thought, tough noogies. He was a shifter, he wouldn't suffer from the cold. Or at least she didn’t think he would. She bit her lip and frowned.

“No,” he said looking down at her with a scowl.

She looked up, snowflakes falling across her frozen cheeks. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“Yes, I do.” He bent his knees until he was looking straight into her eyes. “I am not leaving you in the SUV.”

“But you would–“

“Don’t make be take you over my knee, woman.”

Priscilla gasped. She wasn’t sure if it was from outrage of his threat, the caveman way he said ‘woman’, or the full-body rush of lust she felt at the threat of being turned over his knee. “Let me get my scarf and gloves.”

Jason cursed as
Priscilla turned away from the protection of his body to open the door and promptly fell on her butt. Now, not only was her lower body wet from her feet to her knees, the back of her thighs were covered in snow. Cursing stubborn females everywhere, he picked her up, kicked away the snow surrounding her and brushed away as much of the snow as he could. His hand lingered on the rounded flesh of her ass, cupping the swollen curve. How he wanted her on her hands and knees as he thrust inside her from behind, his hands gripping the soft flesh of her hips.

Her breath hissed from between gritted teeth
at his touch and he smiled. She’d soon learn if she was going to be so damn stubborn about everything, she would pay a price. His threat of spanking was not an empty one. It was not unheard of for a wolf to discipline an unruly mate with hard, swift strokes on a rounded ass. Or, taking that ass, pounding inside that tight opening. He clamped down on his thoughts. First things first. Shelter, warmth and food.

She jumped when he put his hand between her thighs and
used the excuse of brushing away the snow to press against her pussy. He would have sworn to his alpha that he could feel the heat burning his hand. Even though his wolf enjoyed the intimate feel of their mate beneath the man’s hand, he growled, reminding Jason he was playing when he needed to get Priscilla to shelter as fast as he could. He opened the door and picked up the radio. The static was still strong, but he relayed the message that they would be seeking shelter at the cabin. He hoped Wanda understood and told his sister. He didn’t want her worrying about them. He quickly retrieved Priscilla’s gloves and scarf and grabbed a wool blanket from behind the seat.

“Damn foolish woman,” he muttered as he turned back to her. She was already shivering. Hustling her into her gloves, he wound the scarf around her head and face until only her eyes were
visible. He had to smile at the heat being directed at him from those bright orbs. Next, he took out his pocket knife and cut a hole in the blanket, making her a rough poncho. He slipped it over her head, careful not to upset the scarf.

“Ready?” H
e wished now he had thought to bring a pair of gloves and hat for himself. His wide brim sheriff hat would do little against the cold or the snow.

She nodded, which was about all she could do with her mouth covered by the soft knit of her scarf. It went against his every instinct to allow her to push her way through the
ever deepening snow, but he did.

Priscilla made it just fine the first half of a mile, staying on the path Jason made as he cut through the snow with seemingly very little effort. She had to admit the wool blanket did a lot to block out the wind on her back and front. But, even with the wide path Jason made, by the end of the mile, the snow was clinging to the end of the blanket and her blue jeans now looked very, very whitewashed.

He
didn’t allow himself to get too far ahead but he didn’t baby her either. She could tell he was worried about her though, because he kept looking back over his shoulder. When had someone cared for her this way? If she’d been with any other man, they would have left her at the truck to fend for herself. None would have even suggested they carry her.

It was at the end of the first
mile that she felt her legs grow weaker. Her breath was coming in large puffy gasps and her body was starting to shiver uncontrollably. She seriously couldn’t feel her feet anymore. She cursed the independent streak inside her that had insisted she was capable of making it on her own. What would it have hurt to have the big, strong shifter carry her? Wasn’t that the fantasy of every woman? Having a great big man rescue you? Stupid, stupid, stupid, she berated herself, right before she fell, head long into the snow.

Jason
snarled, as he turned around just in time to see Priscilla fall face first into the snow. He wasn’t close enough to catch her. Damn stubborn woman. Now she was completely covered in snow, both front and back, thanks to her backward tumble earlier by the SUV.

He picked her up and she moaned. She pulled the scarf from her face. “Just give me a minute. I just need to rest.”
She bit her lip as she had earlier and he wanted to take the plump flesh inside his mouth and bite it himself.

“Hush,” he breathed
against her ear. “Just let me get us to the cabin.”

For the next twenty minutes, h
e plowed through the thigh high snow, worry weighing on him as Priscilla’s breathing grew slower and slower.  She had to be freezing to death. Her jeans were stiff and he knew the frozen fabric was draining the heat from her body even with the added protection of the wool blanket. He stopped for a few precious moments and took off his coat. She didn’t even protest as he wrapped it around the lower half of her body. That’s when he knew he had to get her inside and warmed up as quickly as possible. There was no damn way he was losing his mate. Not when he had just found her.

He forced himself to move faster. Soon he was dodging trees, the branches whipping against his face, marking him in his
desperate attempt to fight time. Finally, the cabin came into view. One moment he was struggling through the forest, the next he was in the small open clearing that housed the rustic pack retreat. He silently thanked the alpha for keeping some form of shelter in the deep forest. As usual, the door was unlocked and he shouldered his way in.

There
wasn’t much in the way of amenities—a fireplace, a wooden rocker, sofa and bed. Sitting her in the rocker, he quickly started a fire. He was grateful the last wolf to use the place had moved a stack of wood inside out of the weather to keep it dry. Soon he had a small fire blazing. He grabbed all the cover from the bed and spread it in front of the fire. The bed was too far away from the heat to do much good at the moment. He needed to get Priscilla stripped and warmed up. The fastest way to do that was with body heat. He quickly shed his own clothes, cursing when his cock grew at the thought of seeing his mate without her clothes for the very first time.

She
didn’t even protest when he removed her funny knit hat and scarf. Her face was a translucent white and she reminded him of the enchanted snow princess he’d read about once as a child. He gently drew away her coat and then he moved to her feet. He cursed as he brushed away the snow. Next to come off was a pair of black running shoes. Her footwear was useless in the snow.

“Damn stubborn woman,” he growled as he removed the sneakers. Her socks had kept some of the snow and cold
off of her tender flesh, but it was still red and cold to the touch. He didn’t think there was any frostbite. He enveloped her feet in his hands, debating whether he had time to heat some water. Her low groan of pain decided for him. Moving closer, he put the soles of her feet against his chest.

She cried out.

“I know, sweetling. I know.” No doubt the rough mat of hair were sharp pinpoints of pain against her flesh, not to mention the sudden warmth of his shifter body against her cold skin. But it was the fastest way he knew to warm her up without causing any additional damage to her delicate flesh.

He held her feet against him for a five, long minutes.
She’d stopped groaning which wasn’t a good sign. He put her feet down and reached for the closure of her jeans. He cursed his body as it reacted to the sight of her body as he pulled down the sodden jeans. The job was made even more difficult since the fabric had a slight stiffness from being frozen.

It had nothing on his cock.

Damn, she was beautiful he thought to himself as her body was revealed to his hungry gaze. Her stomach was round, reflecting the fact that she was a curvy girl. He couldn’t wait for his dick to be cushioned against the inviting softness. The jeans caught on the roundness of her thighs and his mouth watered, thinking of the treasure hidden between them. He wanted to part them now and taste her. Later, he assured the hungry wolf. They would have their fill of her sweet, honey-coated taste later.

He slipped his hands behind her back,
tugging down the waist. After that, he wasted no more time divesting her of her jeans. She started shivering again as the cold air hit her exposed skin. That was a good sign; her body was reacting to cold. The training he had in search and rescue came in handy now dealing with his human mate. Most individuals thought shivering meant a person was going into hyperthermia. In fact, just the opposite was true. The muscle contractions released small bursts of energy, which actually helped raise a person’s core temperature.