Season of the Wolf (BBW Holiday Romance) (6 page)

She gasped when his hand did brush the finished hem. He li
ngered, the tips of his fingers sliding under the fabric. His hand stilled and she looked at his face for the first time since he’d joined her on the couch. His face was taunt, the skin pulled across his cheekbones as if he was under great emotional distress. His lips were slightly parted and his nostrils were flaring.

Please, she pleaded silently,
don’t let him smell my desire.
She hadn’t been around shifters enough to know what they were capable of. It was logical to assume they’d received the enhanced senses of their animal brothers. A wolf was said to have the keenest sense of smell. Apart from a bear. Which she’d had always thought was odd really.

Damn it, Priscilla,
concentrate, she berated herself. She had a gorgeous hunk of a man, basically fondling her, and her mind had wondered off into academic land. No wonder she hadn’t had sex since college.

“I, I.”
She stammered, having no clue what to do or what to do.

Jason’s hand tightened on the s
oft flesh of Priscilla’s thigh and he willed himself not to touch her intimately, the way his wolf was begging him. Both the man and the animal could smell her arousal, her desire. Would those prim cotton panties be wet, flooded with juices from her sweet pussy?

He
was torn. The hesitation in her voice told him she wasn’t ready, but the trembling in her body said otherwise. He decided to be blunt and clear about his intentions. Well, some of his intentions. The part about them being mates and bonding would come later.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Her face had turned back down, staring at, he knew, his hand clenching around her thigh.

She obeyed almost instantly. Perhaps she was feeling the same things he was. That irresistible draw to your mate. He hoped to God she was. He knew he couldn’t spend another night, hell another hour, in this cabin with her, without taking her.

“I want you.” He paused then withdrew his hand, all the while maintaining eye contract with her. “But I’m going to give you time to think about.” H
e rose from the couch, taking the blanket and tossing it over her, tucking it in at the sides much as he’d done last night. “We need some more wood.”

He
cupped the side of her face, titling her head and fitting his mouth over hers. He thrust his way inside her mouth. God, she tasted sweet. His fingers funneled through her hair, pulling her closer. She lifted upwards, her arms encircling his neck. He tightened his hold on his wolf, resisting the urge to gather her in his arms and carry her to the bed standing to invitingly just behind them. To take away her choice.

He eased back, breaking the kiss slowly. “
Make your decision before I come back in.”

Jason put another piece of wood on the stump then slammed his ax down. The snow had stopped, but he still smelled it in the air. He’d used the excuse of needing more wood to get away from her. There’d still been plenty in the metal crate by the fireplace.

She wanted us.
His wolf was still mad as hell that Jason hadn’t carried her to bed and claimed her. He knew he could have had her writhing with pleasure in no time. She had wanted him. He’d smelled her sweet scent of desire. Hell, he still smelled it and longed to taste it.

He’d
walked out of the house in the pajama bottoms, stopping only long enough to pull on his boots and grab a flannel shirt and jacket hanging by the door. Now, after only fifteen minutes of chopping wood, he was sweating. He needed to shift and take a run through the snow-covered forest. Or go inside and fuck his little mate’s brains out. If he went back inside now, would her answer be yes, or no? Another swing of ax had wood chips flying through the air.

Priscilla’s hand covered her mouth for several long moments after Jason left the cabin. He had kissed her twice this morning. One had been soft and tender and the other had scorched her lips, sizzling her lungs. He wanted her. She allowed herself that first giddy excitement of realization. She sobered quickly though realizing she was about to make the most important decision of her life. She threw back the covers and headed to the bathroom. The small room was now warm thanks to the roaring blaze Jason had built up after serving their breakfast.

Priscilla
took a good long look at herself in the mirror about the sink. There was nothing remarkable. She was what she considered passably attractive. Her features were even and pleasing to the eye, but the configuration did not produce any outstanding characteristics. Her body was definitely nothing to write home about. She was average height as well. And, no matter what the media might say, she was of average size—which wasn’t a size six. She shopped for jeans that were in the double digits.

She’d
never understood physical attraction until she’d met Jason Dupree. Was it normal to be so instantly drawn to someone? So lustful? Yeah, she knew her body type wasn’t the favorite among men, but she’d seen women as heavy or heavier in what appeared to be loving, stable relationships. That was what drew her to the wolf and its mating habits. What made it mate for life when its instincts drove it to mount any female it could and procreate? Were shifters the same?

She
rummaged through the cabinets and found an unopened toothbrush. Even though the cabin was rustic, it held some amenities and supplies. Did the shifter community use it as a get-away? She looked longingly at the shower. She hit the light switch by the door testing her theory. The overhead light turned on. It made sense that there would be a gas powered generator. If there was electricity, that meant there was hot water. He hadn’t told her not to use the shower and there was no way she was going to take the wolf to bed without clean hair. A look behind the bottom cabinet doors and she found what she’d been hoping for. A bottle of shampoo and a hair dryer.

Turning on the water, she waited for the hot
to come through, and then turned it down, adding a good bit of cold. She didn’t know how big the tank was and didn’t want to be wasteful. Stripping quickly, she stepped under the barely warm spray. A soft scream fell from her lips before she could stop it. Damn, it was still cold.

Not one to normally linger in the shower anyway, she was through in record time. Grabbing the towel from the back of the toilet where
she’d placed it, she dried off quickly than twisted it around her head, hoping to absorb as much water from her hair as possible. She loved her long locks, but they were a pain in the butt to dry. Especially during winter. In the summer months, she could pull her hair back in a ponytail and not worry about it the rest of the day.

She quickly washed out her bra and panties and slipped the long-sle
eved t-shirt back on. She didn’t know exactly what Jason’s feelings toward her might be, but she knew he wanted her. The deep flare of desire in his eyes as he warned her to have an answer before he returned hadn’t been faked. Nor had the telling arousal beneath the thin material of his pajama bottoms. Men might be able to charm a woman into believing he had true feelings for her, but it was extremely difficult to pretend you desired a woman. A man’s body would always tell the truth.

Jason’s head jerked up as he heard a squeak from the cabin. His first instinct was to throw down his ax and rush inside. He would have if he hadn’t heard the sound of water running as well. She was in the shower. He grinned because he knew from experience the hot water in the cabin was never truly hot.

He looked around and realized
he’d chopped at least a half cord of wood. He put down the ax and stacked the logs neatly under the overhang at the side of the cabin used to store the wood out of the weather. He’d give her enough time to get out of the shower, dry off, and then she was his. Thinking of her still warm from the shower skin had his pajama bottoms tenting out in front of him. Damn, he must look like a randy teenager, unable to control his pre-pubescent hormones.

Priscilla
was definitely sexy enough to make a wolf of any age howl. He gathered up the last armful of logs and placed them neatly on top of the rest of the wood. He smiled to himself. He’d cut enough wood to last all winter. Thinking of spending the entire winter snowed in with Priscilla made his heart race. He cocked his head listening for her movements inside the cabin. Even though he ached to join her under the hot spray of the water, he needed her to stay in the bathroom just a little while longer.

He had
a Christmas surprise for his mate.

Priscilla’s hair was dry and shiny by the time Jason stepped back inside. She stood by the fireplace dressed in her borrowed shirt. She watched with big, wide eyes as he removed his shoes and coat, but left his flannel shirt on. In that nervous little habit he already recognized, she bit her lip as he walked further into the room. He promised himself he’d put those lips to much better use later.

“I thought you might be hungry.” She gestured to the fireplace where the small black kettle hung from the long hook inside.
The fire had died down, but was still going strong.

He frowned, thinking how very easily she could have burned herself. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Her lips trembled and he groaned silently. He’d forgotten how important it was to communicate fully with a mate. Not talk in short, snappy sentences he was used to delivering to his pack mates. “I meant you might have burned yourself.”

She smiled and he
thought her beauty could rival even the night sky during a full moon.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted and there wasn’t much to choose from. I made soup.”

“Soup is fine.”

“You were gone a long
time; I thought you’d be hungry.”

“I am.”

He prowled toward her, an animal on the hunt and she suddenly realized she was the prey. She couldn’t prevent that instinctive step away.
Damn,
Jason silently cursed and changed his course. With practiced ease, he removed the kettle from the hook and placed it on the brick ledge in front of the fireplace, trying to calm down. She was human. A small, fragile human who knew nothing of shifters and certainly nothing of wolf mating. He needed to slow down.

He stayed crotched for so long, Priscilla became nervous.

“Where’s your socks?” For the first time he noticed she was standing on the cold, bare floor without the socks he had given her earlier. He’d been too enthralled with the sight of her long bare legs. Too overwhelmed with her warm, spicy-sweet scent. Too busy trying desperately not to drag her to the floor and take her in one, long, cock searing thrust.

She rolled her eyes.
Just when she was getting her seduction on, he was becoming all logical and practical. “I didn’t think I should wear them.”

He rose to his feet and came to stand beside her. His large,
muscular frame crowded hers, but it felt good. Right.

“Whatever I have is yours.”

Talk about your heartfelt expression. The truth and sincerity of his gaze stabbed straight through her, landing directly in her heart.

She became bold in the knowledge that this man wanted her. She let all other thoughts flow from her mind.
Her study, their snowbound situation, the insecurities from her past. She closed the small space that separated them, stopping only when her breasts brushed against the plaid fabric of his shirt. She raised one hand, tracing a small circle above the pocket, right over his heart. “I, mmm, didn’t put them back on because I didn’t want it to be awkward when I took them off.”

“You shouldn’t take them off if your feet are cold.”

She huffed. Apparently, she had no seduction skills. “I didn’t want to be wearing socks when we had sex. Okay?”

She pulled back, angry that
she’d had to spell it out for him. She hadn’t taken a full step back before his arm snaked out to wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I don’t care what you wear to bed, sweetheart, because as soon as you’re there, it’s all coming off.” He gave her a wicked look that had her toes curling. “And I promise the experience of me taking off your socks would be one you’d never forget.”

“Oh, really?”
One fine eyebrow arched, enjoying the banter even though the air was shimmering with growing sexual tension. “What about taking off my shirt?”

Before she could blink, she found herself held high against his chest, his big arms wrapped around her as he carried her to the bed. He stopped by the side, surprising her.
She’d expected to be thrown down. And ravished. Or at least that’s what she’d hoped. His face held such a serious expression, she wondered if she had misconstrued everything. Her body tensed. She might have a very long and lengthy academic background, but when it came to sex and relationships between a man and woman, her knowledge base was very limited.

His smile lightened the
heavy feeling her heart. His next words surprised and delighted her. It was as if he had read her very thoughts. “Before I throw you on this bed and have my wicked way with you, I want to make one thing very clear to you, Priscilla Johnson. We will not be having sex. We will be making love.”

It was statement of fact, not a question open for discussion.